Hair as Bright as Silver Moonlight

&…&…&….&….&…&

Harry never noticed Malfoy was good-looking until Hermione yelled it out in the middle of an argument with Ron.

"You are an ignorant…..ignorant wanker, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted, obviously fed up. They'd been going at it for some time, and Harry was getting a headache. He and Ron had returned to Hogsmeade to visit Hermione as she completed her 7th Year at Hogwarts.

Obviously this had been a mistake.

Ron had gone into the Leaky Cauldron, seen Hermione's dark head bent over Malfoy's light one, and promptly hexed the wanker almost senseless.

Now Hermione had called Ron a wanker. Things were getting ugly.

"He's Death Eater scum!" Ron bellowed back.

"Who helped us defeat Voldemort and refused to turn Harry in, and never turned his back on the people he loved, not even once," Hermione hissed. She looked absolutely furious. "And your first instinct when you saw us sitting together is to think that I'm cheating on you and he's scum. What kind of person, Ron Weasley, to think that?" Her voice was low and deadly. Ron looked like he had been hit with a poleaxe. Her eyes narrowed even further. "And for your information, I think he is very attractive."

And then she had swept out, slamming the door behind her.

Ron was pale as a sheet, and Harry froze in the act of extending a hand to Malfoy to haul him up off the floor.

Malfoy groaned dramatically and shoved Harry's hand aside. "Like I need your help, Potter," he snapped, dragging himself to his feet and smoothing his hair frantically into place. He raised his rather pointy chin.

"Granger has more class than you will ever possess, Weasel," he sneered. "You don't deserve her." He stalked towards the door, robes billowing out around him, but paused at the entrance and fixed an imperious glare on Harry.

"And Potter?"

Harry's eyes locked with grey ones. He raised an eyebrow at his childhood nemesis.

Malfoy sniffed. "Do something with that hair."

The door slammed after him too. Ron still looked like he had been hit by a wet fish, and Luna, who had placidly watched the whole thing from next to Hermione, took a sip of her butterbeer.

"Attractive?" Ron asked, lost.

Harry snorted and was about to add something derisive, but was interrupted by Luna's giggle. Ron and Harry turned to her in surprise.

"What," Harry asked, suspiciously. "You think he's attractive too?"

Luna just smiled at him, keeping her unsettlingly piercing gaze fixed on his. "Yes," she said, simply. "His hair is like silver moonlight, don't you think?"

&…&…&…&….&….&

Malfoy, that smug, supercilious, pointy-faced bastard, kept turning up no matter where Harry went.

He was there when Harry attended the Death Eater trials, forcing Harry to testify for the git because Malfoy's mother had saved his life.

He was there when Harry returned to Hogwarts, donating a shit-ton of money and getting an entire wing of the newly renovated library named after himself.

He was there in Hermione's law classes, mocking, and teasing, and challenging her as they studied together.

He was there when Harry graduated from Aurors, with his fancy cars and his devil-may-care attitude, and his reckless behavior that was borderline suicidal.

Everyone was trying so hard to forget the war ever happened, but Draco Malfoy's presence wouldn't let Harry forget. And Malfoy obviously couldn't forget either.

Harry saw Sirius' smile hovering on Malfoy's lips, and Lily's sacrifice – a mother's for her child, Narcissa's for her son's – in Malfoy's smug face. He saw Tonks' fierceness in Malfoy's narrow-eyed glare, and Dumbledore's forgiveness in Malfoy's thin, waving hands as he created a fund for Alchemy in Dumbledore's name. He saw Snape's resilience, his ability to love through everything, in the way Malfoy looked at him, grey eyes glaring and bright and somehow fragile beneath it all.

And Harry hated it.

&…&…&….&….&….&

Harry fucked Malfoy for the second time on his wedding day to Ginny.

Malfoy had specifically told Harry that he wasn't coming to the wedding. Or rather, his exact words to the owl Harry had sent were, Fuck Off. So Harry had assumed he wouldn't be coming.

Which was just as well, really, as Ginny didn't like him.

"I don't trust him, Harry. I don't like the way he looks at you, and I would appreciate it if you would keep your distance."

Harry had agreed easily enough; he would do anything to keep Ginny happy, to keep their relationship steady. And it wasn't like Harry even liked Malfoy. He hated the arrogant git. Malfoy was still the same self-entitled wanker that he had always been, buying expensive cars and blatantly ignoring any laws – Wizarding or Muggle – that he damn well pleased.

And he was still pointy, and pale, with malevolent eyes, and an inbred look, and hair that looked pale like…..like moonlight.

No, not like moonlight…like…..like….dammit.

Harry watched from the front by the Alter as Malfoy slunk in and sat at the back of the church. It was a Muggle and Wizarding affair, with people from both worlds invited. Harry's cousin, Dudley, was there with his wife and children, as well as Hermione's parents. Wizarding and Muggle attire were both present, with Harry wearing striking, emerald green robes, with his hair neat and manageable for once.

Hermione was elegant in deep autumn red, and Ron stood as Harry's best man with robes of midnight blue. Andromeda Black Tonks sat in the third row with her grandson, Teddy, and looked the picture of Pureblood elegance and wealth, with her severe, beautiful features, and robes of deep violet.

Malfoy still stood out. His robes were silver and blue, his posture was haughty and unsure and elegant, and his sharp bones, and pale skin, not to mention that bright hair, marked him as both a Black and Malfoy whether he wanted it or not.

Harry couldn't take his eyes off of him.

Not even when Ginny walked down the aisle, her red curls mixed with copper in the sunlight, and absolutely beautiful in a blue-green dress with a long train and pearls about her neck and wrists, could Harry look away from Malfoy.

Harry smiled at Ginny, and knew that it was forced; knew that she saw it and wanted to glance behind her to see the cause, but he angled himself so that he faced slightly to the back and she faced the front and the Minister. She kept her eyes on him, and he kept his on her left ear, watching Draco Malfoy's white-blonde hair turn silver-gold – moonlight mixed with sunlight, and he thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Malfoy did not look at him even once.

Afterwards, Harry danced with Ginny, and then with Hermione, and then with Ginny again. He even took Dudley's wife, Hazel, for a spin. He cut the cake and listened to Ron and Hermione's toast, and made polite conversation with everyone who came to wish him well.

But everywhere he looked, everywhere he turned, he saw Draco Malfoy.

Ostensibly Malfoy did not move from his spot at a large, empty table in the very back of the room. He kept his head down, ate his meal, and drank steadily. Harry watched Hermione move towards him and talk for a while. Malfoy met her eyes and smiled politely, but did not seem very interested in what she had to say. Andromeda wandered over after a bit, and placed her hand on Malfoy's arm, gently.

He smiled at her, and even allowed her to kiss his cheek, but Harry could see the glassy-eyed sheen to his eyes from here; and knew that Malfoy was well and truly on his way to being plastered.

"Dance with me, Harry," Ginny laughed, pressing herself against him, her eyes wine-bright, and her lips cherry red.

Harry smiled down at her, placed a hand at her waist, and smoothly led her to the dance floor. Ginny's bright, sparkling laughter echoed across the room and Harry could see Malfoy's hand curl around his wine glass hard enough to shatter it.

Harry pulled Ginny closer, into the curve of his body, his chin resting on her bright hair, and willed Malfoy to look up at him.

There was cheering and clapping from the Weasleys, and the song changed from loud and rambunctious to something slow and romantic.

Malfoy's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line, but he did not look up.

Harry pulled slightly back, tilted Ginny's chin up, and then bent down to kiss her. As his lips brushed hers, catcalls broke out, and Malfoy's head jerked up, pale hair tumbling down from the severe style he had placed it in, and brushing one pale, pointy chin.

Flushed cheeks, and fierce, hazy, grey eyes locked on Harry's. Harry stopped moving, keeping Malfoy in his eye line. He teased Ginny's lips with his tongue, and when she granted him entrance, he moved in quickly, waiting for her groan. She pressed closer to him, as his hand travelled slowly down her back, almost brushing her arse. Malfoy's eyes were wide, his pupils huge, and his lips parted; he could not look away, and Harry felt a thrill run through his entire body.

Draco Malfoy could not look away from him.

Harry realized he was growing hard against Ginny's leg.

"Hey, hey!" Ron yelled joyfully. "None of that now! There'll be time for that later!" And everyone laughed.

Harry pulled away from Ginny, and almost groaned aloud as Malfoy unconsciously wet his lips, his eyes travelling up and down Harry's body and settling on his groin. Harry's cock twitched in interest, and Harry hastily shifted, trying to hide his growing erection in the voluminous folds of his robes.

He returned Ginny to her seat, and met Hermione's cool, assessing gaze. She raised an eyebrow at him, and then tilted a head in the direction of Malfoy. Harry glared at her in warning, but turned to look. Malfoy had gotten up and was moving swiftly towards the exit.

With a jolt of alarm, Harry dropped Ginny's arm and strode after him.

"Harry?" Ginny called.

Behind him he heard Hermione say, "He probably just needs a bit of fresh air, or the loo, Gin," and then engage Ginny in conversation.

Harry grabbed Malfoy's arm just as the other man reached the front doors. With a rough movement, he hauled the other man into the loo at the side, locked and warded the door, and shoved Malfoy against the wall. The next moment his lips were against Malfoy's, demanding, insistent, and Malfoy, with a gasp and a shiver, let Harry in.

Malfoy's mouth was warm and wet and perfect. His hands fisted in Harry's robes, wrinkling the material, and pulling Harry closer, flush against him.

Malfoy's cock was hard and pulsing beneath his robes. Harry moaned, and shoved his hips helplessly into Malfoy's, delighting in his convulsive swallows and the fluttering of his hands, and his breathy gasps of….."Oh, God, Potter…..don't stop."

When Malfoy shoved him backwards, and switched their positions, Harry went willingly, his breath catching in his throat when Malfoy dropped to his knees in front of him. One hand splayed against the wall to keep him upright, and the other grasping, clinging to Malfoy's silver-fair hair, Harry watched helplessly as Malfoy moved aside Harry's robes, pulled down his pants, and placed his lips around Harry's cock.

Harry's head hit the back of the wall. White, hot heat was shooting through him. Malfoy licked and stroked and sucked, and Harry came hard, shouting Malfoy's name in the echoing silence of the lavatory.

Harry heard only the sounds of their breathing in the aftermath. A sick feeling grew in his gut, so that he thought he might throw up. He looked down; his hand was clenched in hair as pale as moonlight, and Malfoy's blown-wide eyes were gazing up at him.

Harry shoved him away, hard. "Fuck!"

Malfoy fell back to the floor. "What the hell, Potter," he snapped. Harry saw his hand going towards his own, untended, erection, visible still through his robes. Harry's breath caught as Malfoy palmed himself, his head falling back, white-blonde hair brushing his shoulders as his head fell back, exposing the long line of his neck.

Harry wanted to watch him touch himself, until he came, moaning Harry's name. Harry wanted to reach out and run his palm over Draco's hard, hot length. He wanted to push his fingers into Malfoy's tight, heat and, then push his hardening cock in, and pound into him until Malfoy couldn't even remember his own name.

He wanted it so much that he was trembling with the need. Just once, just one more time, he needed this. He needed Malfoy with his sarcasm and his refusal to be anything other than what he was, and his haughty looks, his hair like moonlight brushing against Harry's face, and the fire that burned between them.

So Harry gave in. Just once. Malfoy came with his lips trembling against Harry's, but he refused to say a word.

With a snarl Harry pulled out of him, and grabbed his wand. Malfoy's eyes were closed.

"Obliviate," Harry hissed. He should have obliviated himself.

&…..&….&….&…&….&

Malfoy, Harry realised sometime during his second week guarding the prat, never shut up.

Harry had successfully avoided the prat for years, had avoided thinking about him for years, had thrown himself into his quiet life with Ginny and children; and then Malfoy had, as per bloody usual, messed everything up by being his usual, annoying self.

Draco Malfoy was a whistle—blower.

"He's an opportunistic, trouble-making bastard," Harry had informed Kingsley Shacklebolt. He had wanted to add, 'and I hate his face,' but figured that this wouldn't be as compelling an argument.

Kingsley just shook his head. "Hermione Granger-Weasley has expressly requested you for this assignment, Auror Potter, Head of the Aurors or not. Draco Malfoy has exposed a very serious degree of corruption in the Department of Mysteries – although how he got in I don't want to know." Here the Minister frowned.

"By doing something illegal," Harry informed the Minister helpfully, making a mental note to kill Hermione later. Head of Magical Law Enforcement or not, she had no right to stick him with Malfoy. She knew how much he hated the poncy bastard.

Kingsley merely smiled.

"You know what your problem is, Potter?" Malfoy now asked, conversationally. He was lounging on an elegant chaise in one of his many, undisclosed and probably unregistered and avoiding taxes, Flats that were littered around London."

"You?" Harry growled.

Malfoy gave him a withering look. "You lost all the courage you had when the Dark Lord died."

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"Ooo, what a witty rejoinder, Potter. How do you come up with them?"

"And who uses 'Ooo', Malfoy?" Harry mocked in return.

"Also, your hair," Malfoy continued, ignoring him. "And your glasses – really Potter, how long is it going to take before you finally get a new pair, or get your eyes fixed by magic?" Malfoy helped up a hand, ticking on his fingers. "Then there's your appalling fashion sense, your irritating show of moral superiority, and the fact that you have less sense of adventure than an 80 year old man with Alzheimer's."

"I get plenty of excitement, Malfoy." Harry shifted uncomfortably as Malfoy smirked. The bastard was still obnoxiously attractive, even if that hairstyle made him look like he had a receding hairline.

Malfoy's smirk grew. "Really, Potter? And what kind of excitement is that?"

"Never you, mind," Harry told him, severely.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Potter. You never change, I don't know why I still expect it."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the other man, fearing what he was implying. "It was one night, Malfoy. It was a mistake, and it meant nothing. I've moved on. Maybe you should too. It's a bit pathetic to be mooning over something that happened once, many years ago."

Malfoy's eyes, steely grey, shot up towards his. He was suddenly on his feet, every inch of him furious and dangerous and intent. "According to Granger, it was two nights. Did you think I wouldn't find out you obliviated me, Potter? The Chosen One. The Hero of Light. And you fucked with my mind, because you couldn't deal with what you really wanted."

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry said, automatically, but he felt that sick feeling again, the one he got every time he remembered what he did.

Malfoy shoved him, hard, and Harry let him.

He deserved it. He deserved all of it.

With a low growl, Malfoy punched him square in the face, and Harry would have laughed at such a Muggle move if he didn't remember that Draco's flats were filled with TVs and toasters, computers and telephones.

And if he didn't see the bright flash of a spell shooting with unerring accuracy towards the furious git who looked close to murdering him.

Harry tackled Malfoy and bore him swiftly to the ground. The spell exploded against the wall behind them, and Harry stared fiercely down into Malfoy's shocked, pained face.

"Draco?" he demanded, suddenly frantic. Maybe he had missed one and something had hit him?

Malfoy's eyes widened even further at the use of his given name. "Get off me, Potter," he snapped, his wand already in his hands. "Are you going to go after the reprobate who just tried to kill me, or do I have to do that too?"

And Harry laughed, feeling the blood pounding in his veins, before he took off in pursuit.

"Who uses the word 'reprobate', Malfoy?" he shouted back.

Malfoy gave him a one-fingered salute in return, before deciding that Harry was incapable of catching criminals on his own, and ran after him.

He insulted Harry the whole time, even when he tripped, fell in a hole, and told Harry to carry on without him.

"I am a martyr to the cause, Potter. Now, bring me his head on a platter," he ordered.

But Harry didn't think Hermione would approve, so he arrested the man instead.

&…&…&…&…&…&

Ginny had always been more comfortable around boys than girls, and this had continued into adulthood. Hermione said that it was the result of growing up with 6 older brothers, and Harry had thought nothing of it until Rita Skeeter published a tell-all expose revealing Ginny's numerous affairs with various men over the past decade and a half that she and Harry had been married.

Harry stared at the articles, realizing that his happy little life with her had been a lie the entire time. No matter how much he had tried, Ginny had long since given up. She had lied even more than he had. She had lived a dream, a fleeting wish from her childhood, instead of her own life.

Just like he had.

"Did you know?" Harry asked Hermione, already well into his third firewisky. Hermione shook her head, curls bouncing.

"But you suspected?" Harry probed, knowing Hermione too well.

She shrugged, and played with her straw. The noise of the Muggle bar drifted up all around them.

Harry snorted. "Of course you did. And you didn't tell me?"

"Would you have believed me, Harry?" Hermione's gaze was always far too knowing for Harry's comfort when dealing with emotional…..matters. "You didn't want to see. You erased Draco's memory for God's sake. You had to figure it out on your own. I just never thought it would take this long."

Harry shook his head, and then just kept shaking it. "I just wanted…." He trailed off, not sure what he was trying to explain.

"You just wanted to be normal, for once," Hermione agreed, leaning against him gently. "But Harry, normal is relative, and generally whatever society dictates it is. It doesn't mean that you're wrong for wanting something else."

"I wanted quiet, and peace, and order. I was so tired, Hermione. My whole life has been this never-ending struggle against things out of my control. I just wanted something easy."

"Did you," Hermione murmured, not sounding like she believed him at all. "Did you really?"

"Yes," Harry said, trying to sound as certain as possible.

Hermione laughed gently. "Neither you nor I Harry, have ever wanted things to be truly easy. We're always searching for the next challenge, the next adventure. I do it with my work, and crave constant relationships, but Harry, you are passionate. Your relationships have always been volatile, both platonic and not-platonic. It's just who you are."

"Except Ginny."

"Except Ginny," Hermione agreed.

Harry drank some more and remained silent. Eventually Ron came to join them. He glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. "You had the talk with him yet?" he asked.

Harry gaped at his best mate.

Ron grinned. "Oh, don't look so surprised, Harry. We all have to grow up sometime, and Hermione has been very insistent over the years that if I prejudice our children she will string me up by my entrails."

Harry gnawed his bottom lip. "I feel relief," he admitted at last. "Malfoy was right, I am a coward. I waited until the choice was made for me."

"It seems to me," Ron said, after a quick glance at Hermione, "that you have another choice to make now, mate."

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. He wondered vaguely what his children would think, after realizing that both of their parents had been unfaithful to one another.

Then he went to find Draco.

&…&…&…&….&…&