Rufus Scrimgeour sighed as he prepared himself to deliver the final verdict. He had not so gently informed, in private of course, the Wizenmagot of the irrefutable (and regrettably highly secret) proof of innocence. He gazed tiredly around the room, sensing the tension and the expectations on all faces except the Wizenmagot: guilty. He glared suspiciously at the seemingly empty space between one Hermione Granger and one Ronald Weasley and wondered for a moment if the saviour of the wizarding world was seated there. Rufus allowed himself a moment's breather, remembering the awkward conversation he had had to lead him to this situation.

"Rufus, I must tell you, he is innocent! I have evidence of his innocence."

"What is that? Can you provide his alibi for the murders of Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Ernie MacMillan?" Rufus growled in his usual manner of speech.

"Yes. I can. But of course, you must see that my identity cannot be revealed. If it were to get out… well, as you know my reputation is already highly sensitive."

"Yes, yes. But I'm not certain that your evidence is enough."

"Does he have the Dark Mark?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Is there any proof of his performing any of the unforgivables?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then what's the problem?"

"You know very well what the problem is. The public knows he is guilty, I know he is guilty. Even you know he is guilty, evidence or not. It's in his heritage. I can't understand why you are fighting for his innocence."

"He saved my life."

Rufus was shocked into silence. The young man before him nodded firmly once, before turning on his heel and leaving, entirely confident that Rufus would make the decision he had coerced him to. Rufus watched him go, a feeling of amazement creeping into him.

Rufus took one last deep breath, before condemning himself to centuries of gossip.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you are hereby formally cleared of all accusations of being a Death Eater, on the basis that you have not been branded with the Dark Mark. You are also cleared of all accusations of unlawful activity, on the basis that there is no proof condemning you. Your assets have been restored to your name. Good Day."

Draco literally slumped in his seat, relieved. Rufus Scrimgeour, after clearing Draco's name, left the dungeon room along with the full Wizenmagot Jury, which, Draco realised with a pang of regret, Albus Dumbledore was once a part of.

A wave of fatigue hit Draco; now that he was free, he could allow himself to let down his guard slightly. The last month had been a rough one for him; kept in the Ministry cells, he found it extremely difficult to sleep with the constant loom of the trial ahead of him.

Rita Skeeter, Draco noticed with a surge of fury, was lagging behind and glancing at him hopefully. He hurriedly made his way out of the room, ignoring her attempts to stop him. "Mr Malfoy? A quick word for the readers of the Prophet? How do you feel? Relieved? Happy? Guilty?"

Draco allowed himself two words as he passed her and marched out the door, head held high in the true Malfoy fashion. "Sod off."

Draco spent the entirety of the remaining day and night sleeping.

The next morning, Draco was highly amused to read his article on the front page, with a large photo of him looking extremely weary. Thankfully, he had contained his feelings of nervousness and guilt so he appeared, to all observers, innocent. The closing sentences, he felt, were particularly entertaining.

Draco Malfoy has been cleared of all charges and has had all assets restored to his name. It is a sad day when a young man who has the arrogance to tell yours truly to 'sod off' (the only words he deigned to mention) is allowed to walk free when all evidence points to his guilt.

Draco snorted; well, the Ministry saw him as innocent, and that was all that mattered. He was a free man.

The rest of the day was spent in a haze of shopping – Draco's way of rewarding himself for a job well done.

When dinner time came around, he decided to treat himself; dressed in his best new outfit he made his way to the flashiest wizarding café in the district. He ate alone, as he did everything else. He would no longer be able to see his 'friends' – they had all been convicted of being Death Eaters and to visit them in Azkaban would certainly arouse suspicion. As for romantic relationships, he was a hopeless case, despite all outward appearances of being a very desirable young man.

He had had one relationship – in his seventh year at Hogwarts – which had lasted for the duration of the last three weeks of the year and had inevitably ended when their paths had split.

Draco sighed, wondering what would happen if anyone ever found out that he had been screwing the Boy who Lived for three weeks. As if on cue, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley entered the café, accompanied by a young man Draco had never seen before.

Draco managed to ignore the presence of his two least favourite people in the world (besides Voldemort, but as he was permanently dead, he didn't count, Draco felt) for the most part, but just as he was beginning his dessert there was a large disturbance. Apparently his presence had finally been noticed by Weasley.

Draco strained to hear the Weasel's outburst.

"…can't believe he's showing his face! Everyone knows he's a Death Eater, filthy Voldemort-loving scum!"

The stranger at the table said something so quietly that Draco couldn't hear it.

"WHAT?" Weasley absolutely exploded. "I can't believe you! Why did we never hear about this before? You're almost as bad as you were in fourth- I mean." He faltered, as Draco saw Granger give the Weasel a death glare.

The stranger said something else and Weasley stood up angrily, his plate flying off the table. "I can't believe you, James. Why didn't you tell me!"

"Because I knew you would react like this!" The stranger, James, finally spoke loud enough for Draco to hear.

Without saying another word, Weasley stormed out of the café. Good riddance, Draco thought, eyeing the man called James interestedly. It seemed he had an ally in this man, or at least an admirer. He smirked; he would always have admirers.

He finished his dessert and left the café in silence, noticing that there was a hushed conversation going on between Granger and James. It seemed that she, too, was less than pleased by whatever James was saying. However, she seemed willing to hear him out.

Draco returned home for a short while after his dinner to get changed, ready for a night at one of the cooler wizarding nightclubs. Although he usually preferred a quiet night at home watching movies, he felt that tonight was a night to go out an get smashed, in celebration of his freedom.

He checked his appearance in the hallway mirror before he left by the front door. Draco nodded, satisfied with his appearance. No one would mistake him for a straight guy in this outfit: black, arse-clinging jeans with a slight flare at the bottom and a blue-gray silk shirt that fitted his form nicely. Besides, the club he was going to was primarily for bisexuals and homosexuals anyway.

On entering the club, he immediately made his way to the bar and ordered a drink. Before long a guy came up to him and started chatting. Draco allowed his gaze to wander over the dancefloor as he spoke, not feeling the need to maintain eye-contact with the stranger as he was completely drunk.

Draco's eyes widened slightly as they settled on the very same intriguing young man from the restaurant. By the way the other guys (and in fact many girls as well) were looking at him, James had quite a reputation at this place. Thankfully, James didn't see him and Draco grabbed his drink and skulked off to a corner where he could admire James dancing without being seen.

However, it seemed he had attracted a few gazes as well, for as soon as he had put his drink down a man appeared out of nowhere (seemingly apparating right in front of him, although Draco knew he couldn't have as the man was drunk and would have splinched himself for sure) and asked him to dance. Draco shrugged non-commitally and the man dragged him to the dancefloor.

Draco danced with the man (who had still not introduced himself) for a couple of songs, but as soon as a slow song came on, someone came up behind Draco and whispered into his ear.

"Mind if I take this one?" The voice was sexy, husky and awfully familiar sounding, and Draco whirled around, expecting to see someone he knew. It was James. The other man must have seen the confused look on his face, because he chuckled softly as he took Draco in his arms and said, "not who you were expecting?"

Draco, stunned by this man's charm, shook his head slightly.

"Who were you expecting, then?" James asked.

"I'm… not sure. I just thought I recognised your voice," Draco said, shaking his head, as if to clear it. He gazed at the man's face, amazed at how the features resembled Harry Potter's. Though, this man's eyes were dark brown, his hair was muddy blonde and there was no scar on his forehead. And his name was James.

"Do I remind you of someone else?" James asked playfully, his eyes sparkling. Draco gaped, as, for a moment, he was sure the man's eyes had sparkled emerald green before returning to the dark brown.

Draco chose not to answer, leaning forward to instead place a soft kiss on the man's neck, just below his left ear. The sharp intake of breath was enough to put an end to Draco's doubts. Standing on his toes slightly, he put his mouth next to the man's left ear and whispered, "Potter?"

"It's James," the man said, winking at Draco and allowing his eyes to sparkle green again. "But maybe we can go somewhere where we can be… ourselves," he said, grinning at Draco's shocked expression. He nodded dumbly, too overwhelmed by Harry Potter's mere presence to resist his charm.

"So, Draco," Harry said, wandlessly and non-verbally closing and locking the door behind Draco and removing his glamour charm, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Yes," Draco said, fighting to maintain his usual haughtiness. He was finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate on anything but Harry; for years he had fantasised about their three-week fling. For years he had regretted the path he had chosen.

"I saw your trial yesterday," Harry said, looking guiltily away. Draco scowled.

"You looked surprised," he continued, still refusing to meet Draco's gaze.

"Only you would have noticed," Draco said, seating himself on the sofa.

"I'm flattered. So why were you surprised, then?"

"Why shouldn't I have been? Did I have any reason to believe I wouldn't be sentenced to life in Azkaban?"

"Maybe the fact that you weren't guilty," Harry pressed, daring Draco to contradict him.

"I was," he said, so softly that he wasn't sure Harry had heard him. Harry frowned slightly, indicating to Draco that he had heard.

They stared at their hands for a few minutes, reflecting.

"Someone must have bribed them, or something. There must be something they're not telling me," Draco commented, breaking the silence.

"Hmmm," Harry said, turning his head away when Draco looked at him. Draco thought he looked distinctly uncomfortable, but wasn't feeling perceptive enough to hazard a guess why.

"I missed you," Draco said suddenly, blushing.

Harry looked at him, smiling brightly. "Really?"

"Potter, I don't just say things like that, you know."

"I know. I missed you too, for what it's worth."

Suddenly Harry had pinned Draco to the back of the sofa and had pressed his lips to Draco's. Responding just as eagerly, Draco put his arms around Harry, pulling him closer and running his tongue along Harry's lips. Harry promptly opened his mouth and their tongues entwined fiercely and desperately, conveying without words the almost five years of loneliness that came with their separation.

"God, Draco," Harry panted, pulling away to catch his breath and at the same time working furiously at the buttons on Draco's shirt, "I've wanted this for so long." Having succeeded in undoing the buttons, Harry ran his hands gently over Draco's exposed chest, admiring it for a few moments before his eyes turned dark with lust and he viciously attacked it with his mouth.

"Oh, God," Draco groaned, twining his hands in Harry's hair.

Harry fumbled with Draco's jeans, and managed to get them off while returning to kiss Draco just as desperately as he had to begin with. Draco, although lost in a haze of lust and complete pleasure, somehow managed to get Harry's shirt off and was contenting himself with running his hands over Harry's shoulders and back again and again.

Without either of them noticing, they had shifted so that Draco was on his back on the couch, Harry lying on top of him. Harry pulled Draco's boxers down and stopped kissing Draco to move his mouth downwards.

Draco's eyes shot open as Harry's mouth engulfed him, fluttering closed again in bliss as Harry began to swirl his tongue. His hands found his way into Harry's hair again as Harry's hands pinned Draco's hips to the sofa.

Draco lost himself in divine pleasure and found himself coming sooner than he would have expected.

"Oh, god, yes. Oh, god, Harry. Fuck!" Draco screamed.

He lay still, panting slightly with closed eyes and was mildly surprised when Harry didn't lay back down on top of him and resume kissing him. He opened his eyes a crack to see Harry staring at him strangely.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked lazily, still feeling his body shuddering with the aftermath of orgasm.

"You called me 'Harry'," he said, smiling softly. Something inside Draco warmed at the sight of Harry smiling.

"I never used to, did I?" Draco said, half to himself.

"Not once."

"I'm more mature now, Harry. I think I can manage calling you by your first name. Now," Draco said, looking cheekily down at Harry's bulging pants, "Shall we sort you out?"

Draco deftly swapped their positions, placing Harry on his back and swiftly removing what remained of Harry's clothing. He admired Harry's body for a moment and leaned down to kiss him softly, showing Harry his appreciation and tenderness. Harry groaned, feeling desperate for his own orgasm, but Draco, having released his tension already, merely grinned seductively and continued at his leisurely pace; he would make this last, for both of them.

Draco felt the telltale stirrings in his groin again as he began to devour Harry's chest, focusing on the nipples that had become hard at the merest touch of his breath.

He reached a hand down and slowly stroked Harry's stiffened shaft, feeling Harry tense under him with the pleasure.

"Draco," Harry whimpered, "please."

Draco grinned again, loving the sound of Harry begging for him, and decided that they could go slowly another time. He whispered a lubrication charm (one that he had perfected wandlessly during their seventh year) and slicked himself up before sliding easily into Harry. He slid in the whole way, leaning down to kiss Harry fiercely as he pulled out and slid in again, controlling his speed deliberately while he angled himself to find just the right spot. He pulled up again, breaking their kiss and allowing one hand to find its way back to Harry's erection, giving it a slight squeeze as he slid in, knowing instinctively even as Harry moaned loudly that he had found the right angle. Pumping Harry slowly with his hand, he began to thrust a little faster, enjoying the way Harry's breath was quickening rapidly. He kept his eyes glued to the beautiful face that had so long haunted his dreams as he plunged in more recklessly, knowing without craning his head that Harry's toes were curling and loving the feel of Harry's hands on his shoulders and chest.

Just as he was approaching orgasm, Harry came loudly and his left hand scraped rather forcefully down Draco's right shoulder blade, causing Draco an intensely sharp pain, which, combined with the pleasure, was enough to send him over the edge. He gave a strangled yell, slumping down onto Harry. They lay there for a while, allowing their breathing to slow, and Draco felt Harry stroking his hair softly.

All of a sudden, however, Draco felt Harry stiffen under him and Harry's hand stilled.

"What's that?" Harry asked in a choked voice, "on your back?"

Draco pulled up sharply and stood, sighing, with his back to Harry.

"I told you I was guilty," he said softly.

Harry stood up and, instead of ranting and kicking Draco out, as he was sure he would do, he ran his fingers softly over the Dark Mark, which was tattooed on Draco's right shoulderblade.

"Why is it here?" he asked softly, as Draco shivered under the light touch. It didn't hurt when anyone brushed it; it required a fair amount of physical and magical force for it to cause him pain.

"Voldemort decided that I should have it in a special place, as I was to be his special Death Eater."

"Did you do it? All those things they said you did?" Harry asked, and Draco could tell by the tone in his voice that he was afraid of the answer.

"Yes," Draco said, allowing the tears to fall finally. He had not cried since the day he and Harry left each other, and although he was filled with sorrow at what he had done, he had remained strong so that Voldemort would not punish him.

Harry said nothing, merely withdrawing his touch and sitting on the sofa again.

When the silence became unbearable, Draco turned around and saw that Harry was surprised that he was crying.

"Harry," he pleaded, "you have to understand… Voldemort said he was going to murder my parents. He would have, too. If I had disobeyed him once. It made me sick, what I was doing, but I couldn't just betray my parents. I couldn't let them die!"

Harry bowed his head, and Draco could see tears falling down his face.

"Voldemort told me, in my first year, that he could bring my parents back if I joined him," Harry said quietly. Draco sat down beside him, entwining their hands together.

"I almost did, too. To this day, I can't help but feel I somehow betrayed them by saying that I'd never join Voldemort. That somehow I destroyed their chances at ever coming back."

"Harry, not even Voldemort could have brought them back. It's impossible. Merlin himself tried, and failed, to bring someone back from the dead."

"I know. But, at the time, I believed him. So what's the difference? If I believed I could have them back, and still said no, how is that any different to truly betraying them?"

Draco didn't answer, knowing he had no need to.

"I understand why you did it. I wish you hadn't, but."

"Not a day goes by that I don't regret what I've done, Harry."

Harry gave Draco a watery smile then, and Draco knew deep inside him that it was the exact moment that he fell in love with Harry Potter. He smiled back, sadly, and kissed Harry softly.

"After Hogwarts, I went straight to Voldemort, as instructed, and received the Dark Mark. I then began following his orders but when I could, I wrote notes to Severus, giving him inside information that he didn't have access to. I knew he would pass it on to the order. To you."

Draco took a steadying breath. "All I could think about, when he ordered me to torture and kill people was 'who will be next?' And every day… every day, Harry, I prayed it wouldn't be you. My worst nightmare was that he would order someone else to kill you, though, because then I wouldn't have been able to do anything to help you."

"You never knew about the prophecy, did you?" Harry asked, looking away to hide his tears. Draco's words had affected him more than he was willing to admit. "Professor Trelawney, though for the most part a total fraud, made a few true predictions in her life. One of them was regarding Voldemort and me. It said that one of us must die at the hands of the other because neither of us could live while the other survived. So even if Voldemort had sent someone else, they wouldn't have killed me. Or been able to. Whatever. I never really knew what would happen if someone other than Voldemort aimed the killing curse at me."

"The night Voldemort came for me was really weird. I wasn't even scared. I don't know why, I just felt… calm, I guess. Like I already knew I'd win. I knew he was coming, and I was just sitting in my house, with Ron and Hermione. When I knew he was close, I tried to send them away by floo, but they wouldn't go. In the end I managed to forcibly lock them in a back room and put silencing charms and shields all around so they couldn't get out and Voldemort didn't know they were there. They would have been killed."

"How did you do it? How did you kill him? No one knows how you did it, Harry."

Harry gave Draco a crooked smile. "That's because no one knows about us."

"I don't understand," Draco said, frowning. What do I have to do with it?"

"When I was training I had to kill insects and stuff with Avada Kedavra. But when I was aiming at a spider during one of my solo practices, something made me think of you for some reason and… instead of concentrating on hate, I was focused on you and what I felt for you… I didn't even see a curse but the spider was dead before I even registered what happened. And so was everything else in the room."

Harry paused and looked at Draco fondly.

"When Voldemort was duelling with me, he had a shield up permanently, like I did. And I kept weakening his shield with the curses but nothing would get through to him. My shield was weaker than his and I knew I was losing but something made me think of that day with the spider and so I just put all of my energy into thinking about what I felt for you, and let it go. And it worked. An invisible wave of energy went through the room and killed him instantly."

"So because some random thought about me popped into your head one day, you saved the world." Draco said, sarcastically.

"No. It was just another case of Voldemort underestimating the power of love."

"Love," Draco repeated, faintly.

Harry got up awkwardly and went into the kitchen, looking out of the window tiredly. A few minutes later he heard Draco come in behind him but didn't turn around, afraid of the rejection he would see on the other man's face.

He felt arms encircle his waist from behind as Draco dropped his chin on Harry's shoulder, turning his head to kiss Harry's neck softly.

"For what it's worth, I've finally realised that I'm in love with you," Draco whispered, hugging Harry tightly as he felt the body in his arms shake slightly.

Harry turned around in Draco's arms and looked at him as if he were waiting confirmation. Draco leaned in and planted a reassuring kiss on Harry's lips, feeling Harry's emotional need (along with his own) in the way Harry's body was trembling.

"It's late," Draco said finally, pulling away and tucking some loose strands of hair behind Harry's ears, "I should get going."

Harry yawned tiredly. "Stay the night?" Draco smiled at the hidden nervousness behind the casual tone.

"Is that ok?"

"Well, I asked you to, didn't I?"

"I guess you did," Draco said, grinning. "So can I use your toothbrush?"

Draco sighed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of a bed (for the second time in a month) and a comfortable one at that (for the second time in almost five years), before realising that there was a warm snugly body next to him and a head of messy black hair resting heavily on his bare chest. He smiled then, realising that there was nowhere better than here.

Carefully, Draco slid Harry's head onto the pillow and crept out of the room, intending to make some breakfast and preferably a pot of tea to go with it. However, on reaching the kitchen, he realised that there was a large barn owl patiently waiting to be paid for delivering the Daily Prophet. Draco rummaged around in a few draws before finding Harry's stash of change and placing three knuts into the owl's leg pouch.

Glancing back down the hallway through the open door at the end, he could see Harry still sleeping soundly in bed and smiled fondly. Draco put the kettle on the muggle way, realising that his wand was somewhere in the mess of random clothes that was Harry's sitting room. He sat down to read the paper while the kettle boiled, but never got farther than the first page. There was a large photo of Harry, which in itself was nothing new, but the headline was something to be worried about.

'DRACO MALFOY SAVED MY LIFE', SAYS HARRY POTTER

Enraged, Draco began reading the article in a frenzy, the kettle completely forgotten.

Harry Potter admitted last week to the Minister of Magic that Draco Malfoy saved his life. 'Mr Potter did not enlighten me with the details, no,' a flustered Minister told the Wizenmagot prior to the hearing, 'but I felt that you should know all the information we have regarding Draco Malfoy.' When asked about Mr Malfoy's trial and the claim that he saved Harry Potter's life, the Minister responded 'I don't know how you found out about that, but I can assure you Mr Potter was not lying.' Later in the conversation he insisted that 'Draco Malfoy has an alibi for the murders he was suspected of, and he does not have the Dark Mark. To me, that evidence is completely irrefutable. There is no doubt in my mind that he is innocent.' Yours truly, however, suspects foul play. There is undoubtedly some things we have yet to discover, and perhaps we will only know the truth when Harry Potter consents to an interview.

"Potter!" Draco shouted furiously, rolling up the paper and stomping into Harry's room, where he was sitting up in bed, bleary eyed and looking annoyed at being woken up in such a rude way.

"What is the meaning of this!" Draco huffed, shoving the paper into Harry's hands. Harry passed a hand over his eyes, performing his daily vision-correction spell and frowned down at the paper.

"Hmmm. Rita Skeeter has been eavesdropping again, I see."

"Yes, well, you had better fix this, Potter."

"How do you propose I do that?" Harry asked, grinning at Draco's grumpiness.

"I suggest you talk to Skeeter and set the record straight. Threaten her, if you must," Draco said in a tone that indicated very strongly that it was not just a suggestion.

Harry tried to cover his amusement but failed miserably, inducing Draco's wrath even more.

"What are you laughing at?" Draco demanded, his lips betraying him by quirking slightly at the edges.

"I'm laughing at you, you grump. Where's my 'good morning', eh?"

"Good morning," Draco said gruffly before flouncing out of the room, scowling as he heard Harry guffawing behind him.

Draco made himself a cup of tea and was just finishing it when he heard Harry leaving the bedroom and making his way to the front of the house.

"OK, well I'm going out now. I'll be home at six, if you want to come over. Just check out the floo wards and add your signature so you can come and go."

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, coming to stand with his arms crossed behind Harry. Harry turned around, and jumped slightly before grinning.

"I'm going to fix Skeeter," he said cheekily.

"Oh. Right. Um, well I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah, see you tonight," Harry said, turning back around to open the door.

Draco cleared his throat pointedly as Harry stepped over the threshold. Harry turned back around amusedly to see Draco looking at him expectantly.

"Don't I get a goodbye?" Draco asked indignantly.

"Oh, you've stopped being grumpy. Good," Harry said, grinning and taking a few long strides to reach Draco and give him a very thorough goodbye kiss.

"See you later," he breathed, winking at Draco before leaving via the front door.

Draco spend a good ten minutes searching for his wand before he could adjust the floo wards to allow him access. He noticed that there was access granted also to Hermione, Ron and Remus Lupin, which didn't surprise him in the slightest.

He then flooed to his house, showered and dressed before going out to do some food shopping. He was planning to cook dinner for Harry and have it all ready by the time he got back at six.

Having bought the food he needed, and a few other things for Harry's place, like decent shampoo, he flooed back to Harry's and set about tidying up the sitting room and the bedroom, and setting the dinner table. He set candles on the table and set a timed charm so that rose petals would begin falling softly onto the table (and not food or drink) when he and Harry sat down.

By the time he had prepared the house, it was five o clock and he started his work on the cooking charms. First, he charmed a tiramisu dessert that he put in the fridge. He then charmed a tray of vegetables which he set aside and a leg of lamb that he put in the oven to cook the muggle way.

Draco then rushed to the shower and used some of the new shampoo, dressing himself elegantly in black dress pants and a white shirt. He was just checking the lamb and using his wand to drizzle some sauce over it and over the vegetables when he heard Harry come in through the floo in his bedroom.

"Draco, you here?" He heard Harry call.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I'm going to take a shower then I'll be out, ok? I feel gross."

"Sure, go ahead," Draco responded, glad that he had a little more time.

He had replaced the lamb in the oven and added the vegetables also and was calmly sipping from one of two glasses of red wine when Harry entered the kitchen.

"Wow," he said, grinning. "You've been busy."

Draco smiled, handing Harry the other wine glass. They clinked glasses silently, not breaking eye contact and took a sip. Harry then put his glass down on the table, taking a moment to admire the candles and then moved towards Draco with a predatory glint in his eyes. Draco put his glass down just before Harry pounced, kissing him fiercely.

"It's only been a few hours," Draco joked panting as they pulled apart.

"I know. I noticed you've put some shampoo in the shower. Does this mean you're moving in?" Harry said, grinning.

"Is that an offer?" Draco asked, smirking.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Harry said, leaning in to kiss Draco again. Just as their lips brushed, the timer on the oven went off and Draco pulled away immediately, grinning at Harry's frustrated sigh.

"Dinner's ready," Draco commented unnecessarily, and waved his hand, causing the lamb and vegetables to fly out of the oven and land softly on the table. Another flick of the hand, and there was a carving knife and fork next to the lamb.

"So, how did you go today?" Draco asked, carving the lamb and serving some onto each of their plates before serving the vegetables. They took their seats and Harry smiled appreciatively at the rose petals.

"Nice touch," he said. "Since when have you been a romantic?"

"Since I've had a reason to be," Draco responded. "So? Tell me about your day."

"Well, I went to see Rita Skeeter and agreed to an interview on the condition that we used my quick-quotes quill. She wasn't too pleased but she agreed to it. So tomorrow's prophet should have everything sorted. OK? People won't think you're a hero anymore. Happy?"

"Very," Draco said. "What else did you do?"

"Mmm, I went to see Ron and Hermione."

"What was it that you said at the café the other night to upset them so much?"

"The same thing I told the Minister for Magic."

"You told Weasley that I saved your life! No wonder he was pissed off!"

"Yeah. This is delicious, Draco. Thank you."

"You're welcome. So what did you do at Ron and Hermione's?"

"Oh, nothing really. We just talked."

"How did they react?"

"React to what?"

"How did they react when you told them about me? About us, I mean."

"I didn't tell them."

Draco set his knife and fork down calmly, his grinding jaw the only indication that he was angry.

"I thought you were serious about this."

"I am."

"So why wouldn't you tell your best friends?"

"I… don't know. It's just. I only just told them about you saving my life because I was in love with you… Draco, they didn't know until Tuesday that you and I were ever… together… in seventh year."

Draco was silent. He could see where Harry was coming from, but he was still hurt that he hadn't seen fit to inform his best friends of their relationship.

"Please don't be mad at me, I just felt like it would be too much too soon. They're going to find out tomorrow, anyway."

"So you'll go and see them tomorrow?" Draco clarified.

"Yeah, sure, I'll go and see them," Harry said cryptically. Draco looked at Harry suspiciously. "I promise I'll go see them tomorrow and they'll know about us. Everything."

"I'm still hurt that you didn't tell them when you saw them today."

"I'm sorry."

Draco didn't respond, merely finished his dinner in silence and sent the plates away with a flick of his hand, simultaneously summoning the tiramisu from the fridge.

"This is fantastic!" Harry said, savouring the taste of the creamy dessert.

"Thanks," Draco said, still not meeting Harry's eye.

"Draco, don't be angry. What more do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Harry. I'm not angry, I'm just… I don't know, it's been a long week, you know? I come out of prison and move into your house virtually straight away."

"Well, you haven't moved in yet. And you don't have to, if you don't want to."

"I do want to. Harry, you don't understand. Suddenly I have everything I've wanted for five years. I… I'm not used to being happy. I don't know how to react."

"It's hard, for a while, to get used to the freedom," Harry said wisely, and Draco knew he was referring to his near-imprisonment at the Dursley's.

"Yeah. I'll cope."

"I'll help you," Harry said, spooning the last of the tiramisu into his mouth.

Draco yawned as Harry sent the dishes into the sink and set them washing themselves up with a flick of his finger.

"Bed time?" Harry suggested.

"I think so," Draco agreed.

"Draco, did you bring your toothbrush tonight?"

"No. I forgot."

"OK," Harry said, and suddenly he was holding a toothbrush with the Slytherin insignia on it.

"Where did that come from?" Draco asked, looking confusedly at the toothbrush.

"Hogwarts," Harry said, handing it to Draco.

"Did you… summon that from Hogwarts?"

"No, I more like apparated it here. It's complicated. But it's a new one."

"Thanks."

"No problem," Harry said, and grinning, closed his eyes for a moment as a Gryffindor toothbrush appeared in his hand.

"Show off," Draco smirked.

The following morning, Harry awoke first, taking a few minutes to snuggle with a still-sleeping Draco before heading to the kitchen to collect his delivery of the Daily Prophet.

He read the article quickly, and, satisfied, set about making breakfast.

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead," Harry called, levitating a breakfast tray into the bedroom and following it in. However, on entering the room, he found Draco awake and sitting up expectantly. He frowned, noticing the bedclothes had been changed.

"What did you do to my bed?" He asked amusedly, lowering the tray to Draco's lap and climbing into bed beside him.

"Switching charm. Mine was better," Draco shrugged and began helping himself to some pancakes.

Harry joined him in eating the pancakes and they had soon finished them.

"Yum," Draco commented, "so?"

"So, what?"

"Where's the paper?"

Laughing, Harry summoned the paper from the kitchen and handed it to Draco.

In an exclusive interview with Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world revealed that Draco Malfoy had indeed saved his life, though not actively. 'He saved my life more by existing, if you know what I mean,' he said, winking cheerily. When prompted for more details he admitted to having had a relationship with Mr Malfoy during their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 'It was my love for him that managed to break through the shield Voldemort was protecting himself with and kill him. It made Avada Kedavra work more strongly. I don't really know how else to explain it.' According to Mr Potter, though, their relationship has rekindled since Draco's trial. 'Yeah, we're back together. He's moving in with me.' 'Excited? That's not really how I would describe myself at the moment. More like 'blissfully happy and more in love than ever.'

"So, what do you think?" Harry asked nervously as Draco folded up the paper and set it aside.

"I think," Draco began slowly, "I think that it's fantastic." He kissed Harry slowly and lovingly before divesting them both of their pyjamas and planting wet kisses all the way down Harry's chest.

"I love you," he said, kissing Harry passionately. Harry felt his body responding and began to grind slowly against Draco, feeling Draco's arousal against his own.

Suddenly there was a loud crash from the front room. Harry and Draco pulled apart hurriedly as they heard Ron Weasley's voice call out. "Harry, mate? Are you up yet?" Ron sounded incredibly worried about something.

"Yeah, Ron, I'm coming, mate," Harry called out, grinning at Draco. "He's read the paper," he whispered, and Draco began to grin as well.

"Cheeky bastard, you should have told me you were letting them find out this way. How Slytherin of you."

"I thought you'd be proud," Harry said, pressing a quick peck to Draco's lips. "Come out when you think the timing's right."

"Will do."

Harry pulled on his pyjama pants and stumbled out of the room, feigning tiredness.

"Morning, mate, what's up?"

"Oh… not much," Ron said, and Harry noticed Ron had come in his pyjamas, still clutching a piece of toast. Bless him, Harry thought, he really cares.

"Do you want some coffee?"

"Nah, I've got a cup at home," Ron said distractedly, gazing at his toast as if he had only just noticed its presence. "I just… well, I was reading the paper this morning and… the most ridiculous thing…" he rambled.

"What did it say, Ron?"

"It – it said that you and Malfoy were-"

"Morning, Weasley," Draco fake yawned, coming out of the bedroom wrapped in nothing but a towel.

"Uh… Harry?" Ron spluttered, eyes bulging at the sight of Draco in Harry's hallway.

"I'm just going to have a shower, babe." Draco said nonchalantly.

"OK," Harry said, grinning inwardly at Draco's timing. "I might join you in a sec," he said, winking at Draco.

"Harry?" Ron said again.

"Yes, well. I wanted to tell you and Hermione yesterday, but… I changed my mind at the last minute. I see now I shouldn't have waited for you to find out this way. But surely it wasn't entirely unexpected? After all, I told you the other day that I was still in love with him."

"Were you seeing him then? When he was in the café?"

"No, that was a lucky coincidence. We met at a club later that night and things went from there. I'm sure you don't need the details," Harry said, grinning.

"And… You're happy with this, are you?"

"Yes. More than happy. The article was entirely my own words, Ron."

"OK then," Ron said, still looking slightly dazed. But at least he wasn't angry.

"Harry! Are you coming or not?" Draco called from the bathroom, causing Harry to blush.

"Sorry," he muttered, "he's in his element, making you feel uncomfortable. He's a good guy, really."

"I'm sure," Ron said dryly, apparently beginning to recover himself. Harry laughed.

"Honestly, it's the truth." Harry said.

"OK, well I'll go tell Hermione and let you get to your… erm, shower. See you later, mate? Come over for dinner… Both of you."

"Really? That'd be great, Ron. Are you sure?"

"Well yeah. Better get used to it, eh? Before you two end up married or something."

Harry laughed. "True. See you tonight then."

"HARRY!" Draco shouted.

"See you mate," Ron chuckled, entering the floo as Harry headed towards the bathroom.

"Coming!" Harry called, pulling his pants off as he walked and flinging them down the hall.

"You're not, but you will be!"