Lucius sighed as he heard the door of his study slam open. Honestly, Draco was a menace these days. Sometimes, he missed the good old days when he would stomp in here to scream at Lucius. Now he just barged in and interrupted his father's daily musings to prattle about the latest, amazing thing Potter had done. Lucius however was working, and he was not in the mood to sing praises of Potter the Magnificent.

"Draco, for the last time," he snapped. "I am happy for you - ecstatic, I assure you - but you are not to waltz in here unannounced and disrupt my... Mr Potter." Lucius stared at his intruder in mild surprise. The boy looked harried and anxious. He was even scruffier than usual and had clearly not slept. Lucius' sense of foreboding intensified.

"I won't take up too much of your time," Potter said. "I just came by to give you this." Lucius frowned but accepted the piece of paper from Potter. He glanced through it and took a minute to school his expression. "What's this?" he asked finally.

"I'm returning your money," Potter replied quietly.

"Mr Potter, we had a deal. If you think..."

"You misunderstand me, Lucius. I'm not going back on my word. I'm just returning your money."

"But your team... surely you..."

"I'll fund the Canons," Potter replied, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "My parents planned their fortune well. I have enough to see the team through, at least for this season. And a win should bring in more sponsors so..."

"Mr Potter, forgive me for interrupting," Lucius managed. His head was reeling. Why would the boy do this? "If you recall, I have seen your bank accounts in the past. This..." he gestured vaguely at the document "is roughly seventy percent of everything you own."

"I know."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. You don't have to do this. I have every intention of fulfilling our terms if that's what..."

"I love your son."

Lucius stopped talking. Potter's eyes were soft but his voice was calm and determined. He stood proudly before Lucius and spoke like a man who knew what he was doing. "He means everything to me. I can't do this to him."

"Mr Potter..."

"Please. Just take it. If there's anything you want to give me at all, let it be your blessing."

There was nothing for it. Lucius nodded slowly and folded the cheque, placing it in his desk. Potter visibly relaxed and as much as he hated to admit it, Lucius' respect for the younger man increased tenfold. He had chosen well, indeed. "You have it," he said finally. "Both of you."

"Thank you," Potter smiled. "I..."

He was cut off by an elf bolting into the office. "Master," it squeaked. "The paper, if it pleases you sir."

Lucius sighed and waved the elf off, putting the Prophet on his desk and giving it a cursory look. "More news about you," he drawled, making Potter chuckle. "That Skeeter woman really earns her pay with..." Lucius trailed off, staring at the headlines.

The Potter Malfoy Saga: All Secrets Finally Revealed!

"What on earth..."

Lucius snatched it up again and scanned the top story.

Oh no. Oh Merlin, no.

How had they even...

Potter seemed to have caught on that something was amiss. He grabbed the paper and skimmed through it. By the time he was finished, he was pale and trembling. "Shite," he whispered.

"They have no evidence," Lucius said firmly. "Nothing to prove it. I'll owl now and have a retraction printed by the evening. We'll demand a public apology and..."

"It doesn't matter," Potter said in a hollow voice. He looked stricken. "He'll know."

"Harry..."

"I have to go see him. I... I have to..."

"Wait, boy! Now is not the time to approach him. He'll... Potter!"

But the boy was already running full speed up the staircase. Lucius heard his frantic footsteps thudding against the carpet.

This was bad. Draco was going to...

Lucius shook his head. Draco could wait. Perhaps, Potter would be able to reason with him. The papers wouldn't. Now was the time for damage control. Steeling himself, he sat himself down to write out an owl to his lawyer.

The Prophet wouldn't know what hit them.

****

Harry flew up the staircase, nearly wrenching his ankle in the process. He ignored the stabbing pain and threw Draco's door open.

Draco was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor. The Prophetwas limp in his fingers.

Harry's heart sank. His knees were weak and shaking. His fiancé looked up at him with hollow eyes. He had never felt so wretched.

"Draco..."

"All secrets to the inexplicable Potter Malfoy courtship have finally seen the light of day," Draco chanted tonelessly, his eyes not wavering from Harry's. They were bloodshot and tore right through him like a knife. "Sources and ceaseless investigations from our intrepid reporters have confirmed that everyone's favourite Quidditch team - the Chudley Canons - received a sizeable donation from one Lucius Malfoy earlier this year, propelling them into the season finals. As our readers will no doubt recall, Harry James Potter..."

"Draco, stop. Please..."

"...Harry James Potter," Draco cut in forcefully, his voice rising above Harry's plea. "...plays Seeker for said Canons - and is presently engaged to Malfoy's son and heir to the fortune, Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Coincidence? We, at the Prophet think not. The real questions still remain. Has our Saviour been bought? Have the Malfoys finally paid their way out of notoriety with a hundred thousand galleons? And has Draco Malfoy succeeded in forging an alliance..."

"Stop it," Harry whispered. "Draco, stop. Please stop!"

"An alliance that is for all practical purposes a business arrangement for his own..."

"Incendio!"

Harry watched The Prophet catch fire in Draco's hands. The paper frizzled and crackled, burning away the hateful, horrible words. Draco held on, watching with a detached fascination as the flames licked at his fingers. Harry couldn't stand it. He reached out to forcibly wrench it away. The sting of fire against his bare fingers made him gasp and his eyes water and he threw the horrible thing away, as far away as he could manage. Draco followed the movement with his eyes, watching dispassionately as it withered away to ash.

"Draco," Harry whispered, kneeling next to him and placing his hands on Draco's knees. He would beg. He would grovel if he had to...

Draco turned to look at him, and his eyes held the stillness of blank granite. He held Harry's own tearing eyes for what felt like hours. "Tell me it's a lie and I'll believe you," he said quietly. Harry clenched his fists and willed himself not to break down. The wavering, pleading note of Draco's voice nearly killed him inside. "Tell me it's a lie, Harry. Say it now and I'll believe you, no matter what."

Harry choked down a sob. "I can't," he replied, hating himself for it. What had he done?

Draco started trembling under his hands. He shuddered and pushed Harry's hands away as if unable to stand his touch any longer. Harry watched helplessly as he stood abruptly and retreated to the far edge of the room. Harry stayed where he was, watching the man he loved turn his back on him. Draco stared out the window Harry had once climbed in through, so long ago. His slender frame trembled violently.

"How long were you planning to pull one over me?" he asked. "For the rest of my life? Until you won the Cup?" He shook his head and laughed. It sounded choked and mildly hysterical. "Actually don't answer that. I don't know which answer is worse."

"No," Harry managed, shaking his head frantically. "I wasn't. I... I wanted to tell you, Draco. It's not..."

"More lies, Harry?" Draco asked dully. "I suppose that's fair. It's what my father paid for, isn't it?"

"Stop talking like this!" Harry nearly screamed. "Please, just... just look at me."

With shaking legs, he approached the blond and touched his shoulder. Draco yielded stiffly, turning around to face him. Harry suspected that if he could have, he would have pushed him off, hit him maybe. But all the fight had gone. He really had broken Draco. The thought shattered him and tears streamed down his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tracing Draco's pale features. "I'm so sorry."

"Get out."

"Draco, no! Please, let me fix this. I love you. I..."

"Don't say that," Draco pleaded in a shattered whisper. A single tear trickled down his face, tracing Harry's thumb. It burned. In that moment, Harry knew he would have done anything to take Draco's pain away. But he couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever.

"Draco, I..."

"Get out, Harry. And don't... don't come back. There's nothing more for you here."

And with that, he pushed him off and started walking away. "Draco, please..." Harry whispered. The blond halted and for a split second Harry hoped, he prayed that Draco would look back at him. He didn't.

"Good luck in the Finals, Potter," he said. His voice was cold, hard - devoid of any emotion. Not even contempt. Harry's shoulder's sagged in despair. He sank to the floor and the quiet click of the door closing shattered whatever was left of his heart.

****

Lucius approached his late wife's room with a heavy heart. This room held so many memories. Echoes of a wonderful life that were almost too painful to relive. His heart had healed after her passing - the process painfully slow. But Draco's... perhaps that's why he always sought out this place in his darkest hours.

He pushed the mahogany door open and cast a faint Lumos. Draco's blond hair gleamed in the light, as he sat hunched up on the floor. His head was bowed and his legs were tucked against his chest. He looked wrecked. Lucius' only consolation was that he seemed to be faring better than Potter. That boy had been a shadow of himself by the time Lucius had finally convinced him to leave. Potter had looked so shattered that he had forgotten himself for a moment and clasped his shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. Potter either hadn't or wouldn't notice. He walked away like an Inferius.

For now however, Lucius had his son to think of. "She would probably hex me if she were here today," he said. Draco started and looked up at him; not bothering to hide the tear stains against his pale cheeks. Lucius' heart clenched. "If you wish, you may certainly do so," he offered.

"Leave, Father."

He had never been the best parent. He had neglected Draco, chastising and criticising him at every step in his intent to discipline, and left the caring and coddling completely to Narcissa. He wasn't good at this and he half wished he could approach Andromeda for help. She had flat out refused and wasn't exactly speaking to him at the moment. So he was on his own.

However, doing as Draco asked was out of the question. He needed a parent's love and his mother wasn't here, no matter how much he wished she was.

Lucius would simply have to do.

He sat down on the floor next to Draco, absently wishing that the boy had chosen the bed to wallow in his grief. He seemed to have no intention of moving though, so Lucius sucked it up and stayed there with him.

"Why?" It seemed like ages had passed when Draco finally spoke.

"Because I was worried about you," Lucius replied. "You were unhappy and alone. And I thought Potter..."

"You paid Potter."

"That's really a very crass way of putting things but essentially, yes."

Draco turned his head and rested it on his knees, staring at him. Lucius met the gaze as steadily as he could. "Are you really that sick of me, Father?" he asked quietly. "You had to pay someone to take me off your hands?"

"Draco!" He couldn't help the shock in his tone. "How can you suggest such a thing?" Hesitantly, he reached out and carded a hand through his son's hair. Narcissa had always done it when he was upset. "You are my son. My one and only child. And I haven't said as much but I suppose I always thought you knew. I have loved you since the first time I saw you in your mother's arms."

"Then why, Father?" he whispered brokenly. "Why did you..."

"I can only offer you my reasoning, Draco. And my most sincere apologies. I am sorry, so deeply sorry for deceiving you. I did so with the best intentions and I hope that someday, that will be enough for you to forgive me."

Draco didn't reply. He let out a soft sigh and went back to staring at the wall. Lucius accompanied him in silence, until he felt compelled to say one last thing.

"I will however, not apologize for choosing Potter."

Draco stiffened and dug his nails deep into his shins. "You should," he said shakily.

"He loves you, Draco. He always has, though I suspect he didn't even know it at first - fool that he is. I saw it in his eyes even before I ever approached him. Do you perhaps, remember the time you went out with Roland Blake? The insignificant whelp tried to attack you and Potter defended you..."

Draco's head whipped back towards him. "How do you know about..."

"I'm your father, I know everything," Lucius informed him dismissively. "Anyway, one of those buzzards at the Prophettook a picture of you. I... acquired it and I saw for myself, the way Potter looked when he thought you were in danger. He looked like he would snap Blake like a twig if he so much as touched you. Do you remember that?"

By the sudden trembling of Draco's frame, it was clear that he did. "I don't want to talk about this..." he whispered.

"Hush, Draco. There are things I need to tell you, if only for my sake. I need you to understand that it was that look on Harry Potter's face, that determination to protect you that steered my judgement. If I had had any doubt in my mind that the boy would allow you to come to any harm, I would have rejected him in an instant. But he has protected you. He has cared for you. And despite what you may think, he has loved you."

"Stop it," Draco whispered. "I don't want to hear this."

"Draco," Lucius chided gently. He put an arm around his son's shoulders, allowing him to lean against him. "He returned the money."

Draco hissed as if in pain and hid in his shoulder. "That's not true."

"I wouldn't lie to you. Not now. He returned every last Knut I gave him, and he did it without a second thought. The truth is that he couldn't stand lying to you anymore. It is perhaps my greatest failure but I will admit it - Harry Potter has held you in greater esteem than your own father."

"He lied to me."

"Yes, he did. But he has also loved you. He is as broken without you as you are without him. And..."

"Stop," Draco demanded, a little frantically. "Please, Father. I... I don't want to hear anymore."

Lucius sighed. "Very well, son. We will speak no more of it."

Draco nodded and settled down against his arm. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he said. "I need to get away."

Lucius frowned. "Where will you go?"

"I have a place. I just want to... be alone for a while. Take my mind of everything."

Lucius nodded in understanding. "I won't stop you. However, I insist you tell me where it is you plan to go."

Draco met his eyes steadily. "If I do, will you tell Potter? Will you send him after me again?"

Lucius had half a mind to protest, but it didn't seem like anything would sway Draco. He felt a brief stab of pity for Potter and then shook his head. "On my honour as a Malfoy, he won't find out from me."

"Thank you," Draco whispered, leaning against him again. Lucius sighed at the warm weight against his own sturdy frame. He felt... content, despite everything. His son was here and safe. And he would heal with time. Draco was strong.

"I love you, Father."

Lucius closed his eyes, willing away the stinging prickle of tears. "I love you too, my son."

And then there was silence.

****

A month later...

The alarm rang insistently, heralding another day. Its rising shriek was pure agony. Harry slammed it with his fist and trudged out of bed, not really caring if the stupid thing was broken or not. It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

Shaking himself awake, he dragged himself to his table to sort his mail.

Bill. Bill. Letter from Bill. Howler from Oliver.

Harry sighed. Might as well get it over with...

"POTTER! GET YOUR ARSE TO PRACTICE NOW! I DON'T CARE IF YOU OWN THE TEAM, YOU WILL SHOW UP TO PRACTICE OR MERLIN HELP ME, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND... AND DO SOMETHING! BLOODY HELL, HOW CAN YOU..."

Harry Incendioed the shrieking thing carelessly, cutting off Oliver's rampage. He knew bloody well that Harry wasn't coming in to practice. As far as he had heard, Oliver was scouting for new Seekers every day. Harry didn't care. Quidditch just wasn't what it used to be. Nothing was.

He sorted through the rest of the pile. A note from Ginny reminding him to shower. Typical. Ron sent a letter and a fruit basket, for Merlin's sake. Nothing from Hermione.

Nothing from Draco.

Harry slumped down in a chair and tried to will away the stab of pain in his chest. He missed him so much. It was all he could do not to break down and sob like a child.

Draco had disappeared into thin air. Harry had been relentless in his pursuit. After his owls and gone unanswered, he Flooed to the Manor every day. Lucius never stopped him. He simply explained - in an uncharacteristically gentle tone - that Draco wasn't there and he couldn't tell Harry where he was. Not if he wished to hear from his only son again. Harry understood, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Andromeda hadn't been any more forthcoming. She had been positively frosty to Harry at first, holding him completely responsible for Draco's pain. But as the days went by, Harry's relentless visits to the Manor and his adamant refusal to give up on Draco softened her up. She wouldn't tell him where he was, but the last time he was there she had greeted him a sympathetic, motherly embrace. "He left this behind," she had said, gently thrusting a package in his hands. "Perhaps you should have it. I don't think he'd mind."

It was the novel Draco had been reading when they had gone to Hogwarts together. Harry had never actually read the thing. His only interest had been to nick it from Draco when he was deeply immersed and watching him pout. He almost laughed out when he read the title. The Taming of the Shrew. Talk about irony. The book hadn't left his bedside since.

He didn't know how long he sat there, wallowing in his own grief. A sharp tap to his shoulder brought him back to reality. Hermione stood in front of him, hands on her hips. "Honestly Harry," she scolded. "Didn't you even hear your own Floo go off? I could have been a serial killer or something!"

He managed a weak chuckle. "Yes, because I certainly have no experience with those," he retorted.

She rolled her eyes and sat next to him. "At least you haven't lost your sense of humour," she smiled.

"No. Just everything else."

Hermione bit her lip in sympathy. She took a deep breath and Harry sighed, recognizing the ominous beginning of The Lecture. "Harry," she began in true form. "This... this can't go on. I know you're devastated. We all feel for you. But you have to start putting your life back together."

"I can't," he replied dully.

"Yes, you can!" she snapped. "What is wrong with you? Things happen, Harry. Life goes on. And... surely you can see Draco's point of view. It's obvious he needs some time after you... after what..."

"After what I did to him?"

"I didn't say that," she protested. "I'm just saying that Draco is trying to move on. And you should too."

"I can't, okay?!" he snapped, glaring at her. "I don't think you've noticed Hermione, but I've kind of fucked up here. I was happy. For four months, everything was brilliant. And then it turned on me and I lost the one person I couldn't do without. You think I don't know he's gone? He's not coming back, I get that! But I am not going to stop looking. I am not going to stop trying to find him because it's all I've got. So please, as my friend I'm asking you for this. Don't take it away from me."

Hermione was silent as a mouse as he railed, and when he finished and slumped against the table, shaking and shuddering she rubbed his back soothingly. "Harry," she whispered, and he thought he heard tears in her voice. "My poor Harry..."

He let her comfort him for a while. It felt good and when he was done, he felt a little better. Not much, but at least he had control. Hermione sat with him in stoic silence. "You're not going to stop, are you?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. He couldn't.

"Well then," she sighed. "I...probably shouldn't give you any more ammo for a mental breakdown but... Merlin, Ron would kill me..."

"What?" Harry demanded, sitting up. He felt more alert than he had in days. "Do you... do you know where he is?"

"Harry..."

"Hermione, please!" he sounded shrill and frantic and he couldn't manage to keep the hysterical, pleading note out of his voice. "You know, don't you? You do..."

"No," Hermione said firmly. "But I know someone who does."

****

"Ginny! Open this damn door!"

Ginny blinked at the sudden commotion before recognizing the voice. She threw the book she was reading at a wall and rushed to the door, swinging it open. Harry stood before her, panting and holding his side. "Why can't you just get a damn Floo?" he demanded.

"Harry!" she shrieked, plastering herself against him. "You're here! Oh Harry, I've been so worried! You..."

"Is Zabini around?"

Ginny immediately stilled and stepped away. Her face was guarded and she bit her lip uncertainly. "No," she supplied. Harry's face fell and she sighed. "He'll be back in ten. He went out shopping."

"Zabini went out shopping," Harry echoed, following her in. "Exactly how long have you been living together?"

Ginny blushed. "Two weeks," she explained with a light blush. "It happened really fast. I... didn't want to tell you because of... well, you know."

"It's okay," he grinned. "Get a Floo and I'll burst in unannounced when you're snogging on the couch. You know, return the favour and all."

She stared at him before bursting into giggles. "There's my favourite prat," she murmured, ruffling his hair fondly. Harry smiled in response. She leaned against the kitchen counter and fiddled with a coffee cup. "I think I know why you're here."

"I need to talk to him," Harry said. "He might know something."

"Harry..."

"Salazar's silk knickers, woman! You and your damn muggle supermarkets! They didn't have your brand of olive oil so I just got all of them. Thank your stars you're so damn pretty or I'd..."

Zabini trailed off his rant as he barged into the kitchen and caught sight of Harry. He immediately screeched to a halt and dropped his bags, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Now Blaise," Ginny said tentatively, stepping in between them. "Stay calm, okay? Harry just..."

Blaise wasn't interested. He lifted her up effortlessly and deposited her safely on the side, before taking two strides towards Harry and slamming his fist in his jaw. Harry's world exploded in pain and he collapsed to the floor, only vaguely aware of Ginny's outraged shriek.

"Blaise!" she screeched, hitting his chest. "You stupid, brainless lug! He's been through enough without all that!"

"It's okay," Harry muttered, getting up. Merlin, it hurt. "I deserved that."

"What you deserve is a Crucio in the bollocks," Blaise snapped at him. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

Ginny went vermilion. "First of all, it's our house. And secondly, he's my friend and he's welcome here!"

"Fine!" Blaise snapped. "Then I'll leave!"

"Zabini, wait!" Harry managed, as he watched him storm off. Blaise halted and turned around. The easy, cheerful man Harry had come to know had been replaced by something fearsome and protective. He glared at Harry, anger radiating from his lean, tall frame. "I'm not letting you near him again," he declared. "I told you to be careful! I warned you! You have no idea what it did to him. That's my best friend, Potter! And you nearly shattered him."

"I know," Harry murmured, feeling tears prick his eyes again.

"It's been hell, I hope you know," Zabini carried on. "He was heart-broken. And then he found out that I knew and he wouldn't talk to me either! Me! We've been mates for decades! He's been gone for a month...."

"And seven days," Harry felt compelled to add.

Zabini glared at him. "I didn't know where he was until last week if that's what you're thinking. He sent me an owl out of the blue. Said he missed me. And that he didn't want to see me yet but he wanted to catch up anyway. So if you think I'm going to tell you where he is and have him disappear again, you better..."

"Is he okay?" Harry asked softly. Zabini halted his tirade for a second. His eyes reflected surprise and then he sighed. "Mostly," he offered. "He's getting there."

"Does he ask about me?" He felt Ginny's soothing hand on his shoulder.

"No!" Zabini snapped. "Well... not always. He's mentioned you."

"Does he still..."

"I'm not telling you anything, Potter. He doesn't need you. That's all you need to know."

Ginny snorted and he scowled at her. She glared back defiantly. Blaise shook his head and turned back to Harry. "I like you, Potter. Nobody wanted the two of you to work out more than me. But I'm not going to help you wreck him again."

Harry nodded. "I understand," he replied, feeling hollow inside. "Thanks for your time."

"Harry, where are you going?" Ginny demanded.

"To the Manor," he replied with a shrug.

"Why?" Ginny demanded.

"Lucius won't help you either," Zabini pointed out.

"I don't care," Harry shrugged. "I won't stop looking. You can't take that away from me," he added looking at Zabini.

The man gaped at him. Then as if realizing what he was doing, he shook his head and sneered. "You'll have to stop someday," he said. "You can't hang on forever, Potter."

"Watch me." He wasn't trying to pick a fight. He was just so tired of being turned down. But he wasn't going to give up. He'd chased Draco for as long as he could remember. He'd do it for the rest of his life. He'd do it all over in a heartbeat...

"Potter..."

Harry turned back. Zabini was regarding him with cool, speculative eyes. Harry wanted to tell him to fuck off. But this wasn't Blaise's fault. And it didn't really matter. The Italian continued to stare at him, like a miner searching for diamonds in the rocks. He groaned and ran his hands through his curly hair. "Merlin, he is going to hate me forever..."

Harry's heart surged. "Are you..."

"Look, you can't just walk over to him and beg his forgiveness, okay? He's a Slytherin. He'll want more than promises and pretty words. So if you're going to go after him, give him something to prove that he means more to you than anything else."

"Zabini, I..."

"That's Phase One, Potter. There's a Phase Two and Three. We've done this before, remember?"

Harry did and he smiled. Zabini ignored him, continuing his scheming and plotting, pacing across the kitchen floor.

"Phase Two, take him by surprise. That works well for you apparently, so we'll stick to the classics."

Harry nodded. "What's Phase Three?"

Zabini looked at him seriously. "You absolutely never and I mean never heard any of this from me."

Ginny laughed and Harry grinned. "You have my word," he declared. "So... will you... can you tell me where he is?"

Zabini smirked. "The same place you would go if you were miserable as hell and just wanted to be surrounded by happy memories for a while."

Harry stared at him. Of course. It was so fucking simple.

"I'm an idiot," he declared.

"Very true," Zabini agreed. "Now get going, Potter. And please, do it right this time?"

"I will," Harry promised. On an impulse, he marched over and grabbed the Slytherin in a hug. Zabini gawked and flailed and Ginny burst into laughter. "Thank you," Harry murmured. "Thank you so much."

"I'll consider myself thanked for life if you promise not to do that again," Zabini snapped, pushing him off. "Start working on Phase One. Remember, words are not enough. You need to prove that..."

"I already have it figured out," Harry replied. He did, really.

"What?" Zabini gaped. "What are you going to..."

"Good luck in the Finals, Zabini," Harry shouted as he headed out the door. "I'm rooting for you."

"What?" Zabini called after him. "You play for the Canons, you moron!"

But Harry was already racing back to his apartment. He felt lighter and better than he had in days. Now it was only a matter of chasing Draco down again. And Harry would.

In a heartbeat.

****

"So, have we learnt what happens when you mix Monkshood extract with powdered lacewing?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The inherent properties of the elements will react, rendering the potion explosive," Jack intoned sullenly. He would know, of course. He was currently sporting several globs of said potion in his robes and hair.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Draco chuckled. "Now, let's try it again."

"I'm bored!" Jack pouted. "Can't we go flying, Draco?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "No, you impertinent little brat, we cannot go flying. When I'm tutoring you I am your teacher, not your friend."

"But you are my friend," Jack grinned slyly. "And you know you want to go flying too..."

"What I want is for you to pass Potions so I can finish my research paper in peace," Draco drawled. "You will prepare the ingredients at the very least. If and only if you do it properly, you can go."

Jack pouted. "You let Billy Johnson go flying..."

"Billy Johnson didn't decimate half the classroom with his concoction," Draco drawled, grading some papers Slughorn had 'forgotten'. "Keep slicing."

Jack worked in silence for all of thirty seconds before perking up again. "Slughorn's retiring next year," he chirped. Draco sighed. He was never going to get his paper done, it was time to accept it and move on.

"I'm aware," he replied. "Cut diagonally, and keep the slices as thin as possible."

"Will you be our new Potions Master?" Jack demanded.

"I... don't know," Draco replied. McGonagall had practically offered him the post, but he didn't want to get his hopes too high. That hadn't worked out well for him in the past.

"My mother says you shouldn't be allowed here," Jack pointed out. Draco stiffened. "Oh?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"I told her she's wrong," Jack carried on. "And that she shouldn't judge people without knowing them." He sounded incredibly proud of having told his mother off. Typical reckless Gryffindor.

"Thank you, Jack," Draco smirked. "However if you fail your Remedial Potions class, I will most certainly be kicked out. So keep at it, okay?"

He left the little boy to his potions and stepped out of the classroom. Jack would be fine slicing ingredients. Even he couldn't mess that up. Satisfied, Draco walked out of the dungeons and into the hallway.

He wasn't entirely sure what had made him come back to Hogwarts, but it had been good for him. There was still gossip and idle chatter about his... situation, but they were children and they didn't mean any harm. Plus, he could always deduct house points. McGonagall had been extremely helpful and he had discovered a new respect for the Headmistress who had accepted him so readily. It was a happy life, a peaceful one - and he enjoyed it. If it wasn't for the nights when he woke up with an inexplicable ache inside him, longing for the times when he had been here with... but that was in the past. He had moved on. He had.

Or he would, at least.

He grabbed a piece of toast in the Great Hall and waved off Horace's admonishments to "sit down for once and eat an actual breakfast." Draco could survive on toast and the despair of Hufflepuffs just fine. He did like to read about the outside world every now and then, though. So he nicked The Prophet from the Heads' Table and slinked off. He didn't read it very often, just sometimes. And not to check up if there was anything about Harry in the papers, thank you very much. Of course, it had been gratifying to know that Rita Skeeter had been fired last week for biased journalism and irresponsible slander without supporting evidence.

Thank you, Father.

He skimmed the paper and nearly choked on his toast. The headlines blazed at him from the page.

Canons Seeker Quits Team, Fans Devastated

In a startling turn of events, the Chudley Canons have announced that their star player and team Seeker - Harry James Potter - has resigned and will not be participating in the Season Finale. The announcement, made yesterday - barely a week before the World Cup - has left the country reeling. The Canons have had a sterling season so far, their best in years according to varied sources. Mr Potter who has been playing professional Quidditch for over four years cited personal reasons for leaving the team. "It was a great ride and I enjoyed it," he said. "It's just not where I'm supposed to be anymore." Mr Potter declined to comment on the whereabouts of his fiancé, Draco Malfoy. Fans across the country have expressed shock and outrage at the decision, but faith in the Canons remains strong. "Heidi Green will prove to be a brilliant Seeker," said team captain Oliver Wood. "And our new chaser..."

Draco stopped reading and flung the paper away as if it had burned. His head was reeling and he leaned against a pillar to catch his breath. Harry had quit the team. He had resigned and given up his shot at the Cup. Everything he had ever wanted and he'd just given it away. It was... perplexing, he decided. And certainly none of his business anymore.

But why?

And where was he now?

He didn't even realize that he was walking towards the Quidditch Pitch. He was so caught up in his rambling thoughts, that he didn't pay any attention to the random shouts and laughter on the Pitch. Until a familiar voice had him screeching to a halt.

"So when you make a turn, bend your knees just a bit. Not too much. You'll swerve. But if you don't, you'll drag and..."

Draco froze in shock, standing stock still and taking in the sight of his fiancé – ex fiancé –coaching a horde of eager Slytherins. One of them made a comment and Harry threw his head back and laughed. He pretended to whack the child with his broom and turned around. His eyes met Draco's and for a split second, the world seemed to collapse as Harry looked at him. It was intense and brutal to his frayed senses and Draco was simply appalled by the realization that he had missed him so damn much.

Harry swallowed and took a step towards him. Draco couldn't handle it. He turned and bolted.

****

He was aware of frantic footsteps thudding after him. It didn't surprise him at all that Harry was giving chase. He had pursued Draco relentlessly for four months, why would the bastard stop now? Except Draco had no intention of being caught. Not this time.

He practically flew down to the dungeons, weaving his way through random students and teachers, knocking over anything in his way. Harry refused to give up. He just followed Draco's trail of chaos, re-trampling people and crashing onwards.

Draco snarled in frustration. That's it. He was done. This was the last fucking straw!

He took a sharp right into a classroom and hid behind a door, waiting for Harry to follow. Sure enough, the idiot barged in looking around for him wildly. Draco stepped out from behind the door and picked up the biggest, heaviest tome he could find. Potter registered movement and turned. His eyes widened and he ducked, just in time to avoid a face full of Chapter 34.

"Stop chasing me!" Draco snarled, picking up another book. He threw that as well and Potter took cover behind a desk.

"Come out and fight like a man, Potter!" Draco shouted.

"Like a man?" Potter retorted, still cowering. "You're the one throwing books around like some bitchy teenager!"

Draco would have happily strangled him. "You have some nerve, Potter! You hunted me down again! You dare to show your face here and now you're insulting me!"

"You're trying to behead me! I think we're even."

Draco nearly exploded. "How dare you say that? We will never be even! Not after what you did!"

"I know! I know! I'll spend my whole life making it up to you if you just stop trying to end it!"

"No!" Draco bellowed, throwing book after book after book, and not particularly caring if it hit or not. "I hate you! I left you! And I don't! Want! You! Here!" Each word was punctuated by a new book being hurled at Potter's stupid head. A sharp one scraped his arm and he hissed but made no move to retaliate.

Draco didn't care. He threw everything he could find at Potter - books, manuscripts, side tables and most impressively, a suit of armour - but the man just took it. At some point, Draco sank to the floor in exhaustion and Potter cautiously poked his head out from the desk.

"Is it safe to come out now?" he asked tentatively, crawling over the rubble.

"Get lost, Potter," Draco mumbled without any real heat. The pain was setting in again, and Potter only brought back hurt and resentment. There was no room for anger.

"Draco," Harry whispered, crouching next to him. He looked like he was about one step from tears. "Oh Draco, I missed you..."

"Shut up," Draco snapped, hedging away. "And stay away from me."

Potter met him halfway. He sat down next to him, keeping a respectful distance. "I tried to find you," he murmured.

"I tried to make sure you couldn't," Draco replied.

"Why?" Harry asked, sounding genuinely hurt. "I get you're angry and upset, I do. But damn it Draco, I was... I didn't even know if you were dead or alive for a while. It killed me not knowing you were okay."

Draco didn't acknowledge that admission. "You quit the team," he said instead.

"It wasn't important anymore," Harry shrugged. "It never was, I think."

"What about the Cup?"

"I bet on Puddlemere United this year," Harry smiled. "They've got a pretty good Seeker."

Draco smirked before remembering who this was. He scowled at Potter. "Stop making me laugh. I'm angry with you,"

"Sorry," Harry said. "For everything, I mean. Not..."

"I know what you mean," Draco shrugged. "Do you expect me to come running back in your arms?"

Harry sighed. "No. Although that would be fucking brilliant. I miss holding you."

Draco mulled on that in silence for a while. Harry didn't interrupt him. "You should have told me," he said finally. "That it was just a contract. It wouldn't have hurt so much then."

"It wasn't," Harry cried. "Well, it was at first. But... I wasn't lying to you, Draco. I loved you more than anything. I still do."

Draco stared at him, eyes bright and throat clenched. "I..." he shuddered and looked away. "I can't say it back."

"You don't have to," Harry soothed, reaching out and touching his shoulder. He flinched but didn't move away. "I just wanted you to know that."

"Is that why you chased me down like a maniac?" Draco muttered. "Because you love me?"

"I chased you down because you ran," Harry smirked. "You always run."

"You always follow."

"I always will," Harry shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because if I keep chasing you, I'll catch you one day," he replied. "And I won't be stupid enough to let you go again."

Draco clenched his fists and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I can't do it, Harry," he whispered. "Not right now."

"Then don't," Harry insisted. "Don't do anything. Let me do it. Let me get to know you again. As friends, if you want. No more courting or dates or anything until you're ready. If you're ever ready. Just... don't run from me again. I'll never hurt you again, I promise. But I can't live through something like this again, Draco. I won't lose you, no matter how long it takes to earn your forgiveness."

"What if it's never?" Draco asked tonelessly.

"Then it's never," Harry shrugged. "That's my problem. Not yours."

"Oh." He didn't quite know what to say after that. It felt good, having that burden lifted from his shoulders. But that was what Harry always did. He took care of him. He looked after him. He... loved him.

"When will I see you again?" he asked Harry.

The Gryffindor grinned sheepishly. "Every day, I imagine."

"What?"

"I... okay, don't be mad. And please don't throw anything at me, I wasn't stalking you or anything, I swear. I mean, I hadn't really thought about it until I knew you were here but I always wanted to and then it just made sense and..."

"Potter, what did you do?" Draco growled.

Harry mumbled something that Draco couldn't catch. "I'm sorry, what?"

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I said I'm the new Quidditch Coach for Hogwarts. Or I will be soon. Hooch is retiring in a month so I'm assisting her right now. But soon I'll be taking over the..."

"You what?" Draco blurted. "You're... teaching? Here?"

Harry nodded.

Draco gaped at him. "But... professional Quidditch and... teams would be falling over themselves to have you! You love Quidditch. You wanted to win the Cup! You're not... are you seriously giving all that up?"

"It's time," Harry replied. "I had my fun and it was brilliant. But, I just have more important stuff to focus on than some shiny trophy. Like my... boyfriend?" He sounded timid and awkward and Draco felt a surge of tenderness in his chest.

"You don't have to do that for me," he said, putting a hand on Harry's. "It's what you do and you love it."

"No, I love you. And this isn't about you, not entirely. It's just that... it was great, playing with the Cannons. But honestly, the most fun I ever had was with these kids, watching them fly and loving it. Showing them how to catch the Snitch, watching Gryffindor and Slytherin fight it out. And if Billy Johnson makes it into the Cannons one day and I'm the one who got him there, I think I can live with that."

Draco chuckled. "So you're sure about this?" he asked. "Giving it all up and staying here?"

"I've never wanted anything more," Harry replied. "Except you, probably," he added with a nudge to Draco's shoulder.

Draco flushed and stared at the book in his hands, fiddling with it. "I really should throw this that you," he muttered grudgingly. He sighed and chucked it away. "Like that's ever helped before." Harry laughed and Draco smirked, stopping to give him a quizzical look. "You're never really going to bugger off, are you Harry?"

Harry grinned and squeezed his hand. "Never," he promised.

****

Epilogue: Four Years Later...

"Damn it!" Draco snarled, throwing cushions around in his panic. The object of his immediate attention still eluded him and he could have screamed. Except that would have been a waste of time and he didn't have any to spare!

"Where is it?" he snarled, descending on the bookshelf next. Off with Moste Potente Potions. To hell with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean Guide: The Ultimate Collection. And the Taming of the Shrew could... well, maybe not that one. He was rather fond of it.

"Trouble, love?" Harry asked, poking his head in the door.

"My wedding ring!" Draco bit out, still agitated beyond belief. "I can't find it anywhere!"

"Calm down," Harry chided gently.

"Do not tell me to calm down, Potter!" Draco snapped. "If you want to make yourself useful, help me look! It has to be here somewhere! I..."

"Oh, do shut up," Harry muttered, pulling him back and slipping his mouth over Draco's. It was a tried and tested method and it had never failed him yet. Sure enough, Draco sighed and stopped decimating their living room. "Now," Harry said, breaking away from him. "Where did you see it last?"

"See what?" Draco blinked, still somewhat dazed. "Oh, the ring. On my finger obviously! You know I never take it off."

"Considering it took me three years to put it on, I should hope so," Harry grumbled. "Come on, I'll help you look."

Twenty minutes later, Draco was close to hysterics and the ring was nowhere to be found. And they were really late for the wedding. Harry lost patience and cast an Accio, wondering why he hadn't thought about it in the first place. A sliver of gold whizzed past him and ever the Seeker, he snatched it up. At least, working with kids kept him sharp as a tack.

"Oh thank Merlin," Draco gasped in relief, slipping it on. "Where was it? And why is it..."

Harry grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. "In the lube jar," he chuckled. His husband flushed in abject mortification and attempted to bury himself in the couch cushions. Harry hauled him up, indulging himself with a snog in the process.

"None of that," he admonished. "We're really late. And I don't fancy facing an angry bride."

"Another Slytherin-Gryffindor wedding," Draco smirked. "We've started a dangerous precedent." He wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed along his jawline, placing little licks and nips along the way.

"Come on," Harry groaned, dredging up the remains of his self-control. "We're really going to be late."

"Five more minutes," Draco insisted, continuing his tantalising ministrations.

"Suit yourself," Harry replied, hissing as Draco nipped at his ear. "You're the one who has to walk her down the aisle."

Draco's eyes widened in unmistakable fear for his life. "Fuck!" he bellowed, bolting for the Floo. Harry snickered and sauntered off leisurely behind him.

****

They bolted in to the chapel with seconds to spare, immediately finding themselves face to face with a furious redhead. Harry gulped and Draco took a step back.

"Where were you?" Ginny hissed, looking absolutely livid. Her pale gown accentuated her fiery hair, not to mention the deadly flash of her eyes. "Blaise is drowning himself at the bar and I warn you I am not dragging his semi-conscious arse through the Floo again! I happen to be a very small woman!"

"You look beautiful," Draco said, kissing her cheek in an attempt to placate her. "Blaise is one lucky bastard."

"Yeah well, tell him if he doesn't hurry up and propose that's going to change," Ginny groused. "Four years, goddamn it! What's he waiting for? Merlin's Second Coming?"

"He's working on it," Harry assured her.

"He better be!" she snapped. "For the love of Morgana, everyone is married except me! Which reminds me - Draco, the bride is looking for you. Hurry up and get this party started so I can catch that bloody bouquet!"

They watched her stomp off with stifled grins. "So much for nobody's going to take me down without a fight," Harry quipped.

"I hope she doesn't kill him before he picks out the ring," Draco smirked. He straightened out his robes and grinned at Harry. "See you in a bit?"

"I'll go check on the groom," Harry nodded. "Apparently Blaise is doing a bang up job as Best Man. They could probably use my stand in services."

"I'll see you at the altar," Draco nodded.

"Just like old times," Harry winked. Draco watched him leave with a fond smile, and then took off in search of the bride. He found her having a mini breakdown in her dressing room.

"There you are!" she declared, in that exasperated lilt he loved so much. "Honestly Dragon, its past three!"

"I'm here now, Aunt Andromeda," Draco smiled reassuringly. "Everything is under control."

"Oh I hope so," she fretted, patting down her beautiful beige robes. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun, highlighting her regal features. She looked sophisticated and noble and just beautiful. Draco's heart clenched. If he tried really hard, he could see his mother in her.

"What is it?" Andromeda asked.

"You just... you look so much like..." he looked away embarrassed.

Andromeda looked stricken. "Oh Dragon," she cried, pulling him closer. Draco melted into her warm, feminine embrace. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. Please don't think ill of me. I could never even dream of taking your mother's place. She was my baby sister and I loved her dearly. It's just..."

"Hush," Draco whispered, cupping her face in his larger hands. "It's not that at all. I'm just so thankful to you for being here with us. It's like a part of her is still here. I miss her terribly, but you're here and so is Father. And you will always have my best wishes. You make him so happy and I want that for you."

"I love you, Dragon," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "You're the son I never had. And I am so proud of the man you've become."

"You helped," Draco smiled. He gave her a quick peck before offering his arm. "Shall we? Father is probably going spare."

She laughed. "You left Harry in charge, I hope? Last I heard, Lucius was hollering for him up and down the halls."

"He'll survive," Draco grinned. "Ready?"

"Terrified," Andromeda confirmed, with a breathy whisper.

"Don't be. It's easy," Draco replied. "Now come on. Let's get you married."

****

"They look happy, don't they?" Draco smiled,resting against Harry's chest as they twirled on the dance floor. He felt his husband's head lift from his chin to get a good look at the happy couple.

"Andromeda looks happy," he announced. "Lucius looks...well, he's not dead, I suppose."

"That's how he always looks," Draco retorted."Trust me he's doing an Irish jig on the inside."

Harry snorted. "There's an image that will stay with me," he snickered. Draco swatted his arm out of habit and Harry responded with a gentle squeeze. Draco smiled and tilted his head up, angling for a kiss. Harry was never one to refuse such a pretty offer. He bent his head to trace Draco's lips with his. This ...was perfect.

"I am through with you, Blaise Zabini! Through!To think I gave up smoking for you!"

Harry sighed and Draco thunked against his chest before reluctantly disentangling himself. "Let's go," he said, tugging Harry's hand. "I don't think she believes it now, but she'll want all of Blaise's bodyparts intact in the morning."

The shouting got louder as they made their wayto the gardens. Ginny was a tiny inferno, glaring down at her boyfriend. Said boyfriend was currently sprawled on his back, wearing a flower arrangement."Come on, Red, "he whined. "Help a fellow up."

"Help yourself up!" she hissed lividly. "I am going home. And if you darken my doorway again I'll stick that precious broomstick of yours right up your..."

Harry cleared his throat meaningfully. "What?"Ginny snapped.

"Just thought we'd check in, see if everything's okay," Draco ventured.

Ginny emitted a rather hysterical laugh."Actually Draco, no. Everything is not okay. I am tired, my boyfriend has commitment issues and I just want a damn cigarette! Is that too much to ask? One c-cigarette?"

Draco sighed and opened his arms, allowing the sniffling girl to curl up against him. He pet her hair gently, as Harry helped Blaise up. "What's she so upset about?" Blaise demanded, staring at Ginny.

"Mate, it's time to go home," Harry advised."I'll take you back to your old flat, yeah?"

"I live with Ginny," Blaise informed him.

"You do not!" she sniffed, hiding in Draco's shoulder.

Blaise stared at her for a second and brushed his robes off. He looked steadier than before. Apparently, Ginny's breakdown had touched a rather sober chord inside him. "Give her to me," he ordered Draco.

"Blaise, I really don't think..."

"Draco. Hand her over. Now."

Reluctantly, the blond let her go to Blaise.Ginny bawled against his chest and the Italian wrapped his arms around her,stroking her hair and murmuring gently in her ear. "My firefly," he whispered."I'm so sorry."

"I hate you," she sobbed. "You're a completeb-bastard. And you always get the wrong olive oil and I just hate you!"

"Shh," Blaise chided gently. "I'm sorry, cara. I've been an arse, I know. Please forgive me."

Ginny sniffed and nodded reluctantly. "Take me home," she ordered.

"In a minute," Blaise replied. "There's something I want to give you first."

"I swear if it's a hickey I'm going to..."

He chuckled and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "It's a little more than that," he grinned, fumbling around in his robes. "Stupid thing is stuck," he grunted, tugging harder. Ginny rolled her eyes, and wiped away a smudge of mascara from her nose. Blaise finally excavated whatever it was he was looking for and held it up in triumph. "Got it," he announced, flipping the box open.

Ginny's jaw dropped. Harry exchanged a delighted grin with Draco.

"It was my grandmother's," Blaise explained,picking the ornate ring up delicately. "The truth is that I wanted to give it to you the second I laid eyes on you. But this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I never knew true happiness until I met you Ginny, and every second without you feels like a waste of time. It's a scary thing to love someone somuch. And it scared me for a long time. I kept telling myself it wasn't the right time or the right place. But every moment with you is right and I don't want to lose that. Ever. I know I'm not half the man you deserve but I love you with all my heart, Firefly and I'm hoping that will be enough. And if you'll have me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you. So I guess what I'm saying is... Ginny,will you marry me?"

There was a second of earth crushing silence around them. And then Ginny sobbed and barrelled straight into Blaise's open arms. He stumbled and righted himself as she plastered herself against him."This is a yes, right?" he asked his friends doubtfully.

"Absolutely" Harry smirked. "Exactly the way Draco reacted when I proposed."

"Potter!" Draco snapped, shoving him playfully."I didn't cry that much. For Merlin's sake, she's wailing!"

"Shut it Draco," Ginny mumbled, still wrapped upin her fiancé. She looked up at Blaise and pressed a kiss to his chin. "I love you."

"And I love you," Blaise replied. "Now about that hickey..."

Ginny laughed. "I saw a coat closet in the hall.Race you there?"

"No scandalising the elderly!" Draco called after them. "We just got them married, we don't need twin heart attacks!"

Harry laughed and pulled him against him. "Let them go," he grinned. "Courting is half the fun of it."

"Oh?" Draco smirked. "And what's the other half?"

Harry traced Draco's jaw with his fingers."Everything I've ever wanted," he replied quietly.

Draco smiled and pulled him into a kiss. "Ditch the party and shag at home?" he asked, when Harry finally let him pull away.

"Race you there," Harry smirked.

He grinned as his husband sprinted off in searchof the nearest Floo. And then he did what he had always done best. He chased after Draco, and caught him.