Chapter Twenty-Eight

This chapter was written by keppiehed.

"Colloportus." Draco took aim at the door from where he was draped with savage insouciance on the couch. The click of the lock could be heard in the otherwise silent game room. Draco sighed. "Alohomora." The door, predictably, unlocked, as it had the last three times he'd cast the set of spells. Draco decided to change it up and throw a colour-changing charm. The door turned bright purple. Draco cocked his head. It wasn't an improvement on the décor. He waved his wand and returned the door to its original teak finish.

Draco turned his attention to the pile of chess pieces that he hadn't bothered to Banish yet. He'd been forced to Evanesco the damned flock of flamingos...somehow their mindless preening had added insult to injury...but as for the rest of the evidence of his ... thing ... with Potter, he couldn't quite bring himself to get rid of anything. He couldn't understand his motivation, but after Potter left him, he'd been drawn to this room every day...a room he'd previously had no use for...and he'd just ... sit here. Doing nothing. Every day. It was boring, and Merlin knew he had no tolerance for ennui, but he couldn't seem to shake himself out of this melancholy. He didn't know why he felt like this; it was as if he had a sickness. He didn't want to eat because the food had no flavour. He was tired all day, but as soon as he tried to sleep, he could only think of him.

Draco had his wand back, but in truth, he didn't care about that, either. He'd been so focused on getting it back, on winning, that he had never considered what he'd actually do with it after that. He'd lived so long without it that he didn't really need it as much as he'd thought he did. He had only wanted to get it back for pride and as a matter of principle. But what principle? And what pride? Draco couldn't even remember what he'd set out to prove anymore, or to whom. Only one thing seemed important now, and he was gone.

But Draco had his wand.

"Waddiwasi." Draco watched with disinterest as a chess piece launched itself through the air and hit a sconce on the wall. The sound of marble shattering the glass woke him from his apathy, and something wrenched free in the area of his chest. He couldn't cry; he wouldn't! Desperate to forestall the sudden tide of loss and grief that welled like a dark bubble in his gut, Draco craved destruction. "Expulso! Flagrate! Incendio! Diffindo!" Draco let fly the most damaging hexes he could recall, wanting to whip up a maelstrom to match what he felt inside. The release of energy distracted him as he aimed at every object in his vicinity without discretion. Draperies tore, vases shattered, the Muggle device called the television was obliterated in an explosion that rocked the room. Draco relished the pain of glass shearing his skin, although he hoped it wouldn't scar. Then he hoped it would, because it would serve Potter right to feel bad the next time they met to know that Draco had been injured because of him. Then he changed his mind and hoped it really wouldn't leave a mark, because damn, he was too good-looking to ruin with a scar, no matter how upset he was at the moment.

Draco had paused with that train of thought, the idea of Potter and his own scar pulling him into the mire of sorrow again. Why did everything, no matter how far removed, come back to Potter? Draco would never be free of him; it was as if that man had imprinted himself into every line of memory, every code of thought, past and future, so that Draco would always be led back to green eyes no matter how far his thoughts roamed. This idea might once have intrigued him, but now it only brought a fresh weal of pain, and he looked for something to break, to destroy as he felt destroyed. His gaze fell to the dartboard, the only thing left untouched by his rampage. Somehow it had escaped his wrath, and it mocked him with their names side-by-side in his own hopeful handwriting. A stab of something dark went through him...was it sadness? It had to be anger!...and Draco took aim at the proof of his naiveté. "Confri..."

"Draco ... Malfoy."

The sound of his father's voice, uttered with such authority, stayed his hand, quieted his storm, and stilled him in his tracks.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here? What's gotten into you?" Not much ruffled Lucius Malfoy, but he appeared shocked at the scene of utter devastation he now beheld. "Is that a fire on the billiards table? Aguamenti!"

Draco stood in shame as his father mended the evidence of his heartbreak. He didn't lift a wand to help, but as the last Reparo was uttered, he knew he could put off the inevitable no longer.

"Draco. Son." Lucius gestured, but seemed at a loss for words. After a few false starts, he crossed the room and pulled Draco into his arms.

Draco stiffened. Was his father hugging him? Malfoys didn't hug! What were those hands stroking his head? Was this comfort he was receiving?

"I'm sorry you're in pain, Draco. I can see that you're suffering. My boy, my boy ... if I could make it better, I would. You know I'd give you the world; I'd make it right. I'm so sorry ..."

The sound of his father admitting weakness, defeat, emotion of any kind ... it was too much. The dam that had held everything at bay crumbled and great shuddering sobs burst forth. Draco didn't recognize his own voice as he howled his pain, more animal than man. "He's gone. He left ... he left me ... " They were the only words he could choke out, and he said them over and over again, as if by repeating them he might be able to understand the truth of them.

"I know. I'm sorry. He was never right for you. He wasn't one of us, Draco," Lucius said.

"No!" Draco sniffed and pulled away, the realization hitting him like a bludger to the brain. "That's not true; he was right for me. He's been the best thing that's happened to me in ... forever. I was just too ... I don't know. Scared, or something. I couldn't see it, and now I've fucked it up. Sorry, Father. I mean, I've ruined it, just like I ruin everything."

Lucius was silent for a moment. "You really believe that?"

Draco stared at the floor. "That I'm a failure? How can you deny it?"

"No, no," Lucius waved a hand impatiently, "that Mr. Potter is the one for you? That he is the best thing to have ever happened to you?" Lucius stared at Draco, his gaze piercing.

Draco chewed his lip. "I don't know why I didn't see it before," he said, his brows knitted in thought, "but yes. I can't explain it..."

"You don't have to!" Lucius broke in. "Really. That's all I wanted to know. This isn't the man I raised you to be, Draco."

"I know, Father." Draco felt the shame wash over him, but he stood straight. "But this is who I am."

"You're a man who gives up what he wants? You don't fight for yourself and your life, your family? Come now! That's not how a Malfoy behaves!" Lucius couldn't help hiding a little smile.

"What? I thought you meant ..." Draco frowned.

"I know what you thought, Draco. That's what I'm telling you. Sometimes it's easy to misinterpret, even with those closest to you. So you have to talk things out. Let's not repeat the mistakes of the past. Malfoys learn from their mistakes. He learns to be better, so that he may overcome. And he does not lie in a depressive slump, Incendioing things when he should be out fighting for what means the most to him." Lucius folded his arms across his chest. "Are you a Malfoy?"

"Yes!" Draco's lip quivered. He'd never loved his father so much as he did at that moment.

"Then go be one. And go get what means the most to you. Don't let not knowing how stop you. Don't let anything in this world stand in your way." Lucius put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "If you need help, ask it. And Draco, don't ever let a day go by that you don't tell your loved ones that they are loved."

"Father?" Draco leaned in for a hug. "I love you." It would grow less awkward in time, but now it only mattered that they attempted it at all.

"As I love you." Lucius released him.

"And Father?" Draco steeled his resolve. "I need your help."

"Then you shall have it."

*

"You'd better eat something. You don't want to faint when you go in today. And you know you are prone to attacks of the vapours, Draco, don't try and deny it."

"I am not!" Draco scowled at his father over the breakfast table. He was too nervous to eat, and he supposed it showed. He was unused to dealing with emotional issues in his business affairs. As with any sane wizard, he preferred to keep the two separate. "Besides, I didn't make anything this morning. And you're obviously sitting here, so I can see that there is no breakfast to be had, unless we suddenly acquired a new..."

As if on cue, the door to the dining room burst open, startling Draco. Peachy the house-elf bustled in, bearing a steaming platter larger than herself. It had to be part of her magic that allowed her to carry such a burden, Draco marvelled before he snapped his mouth shut and regained his lost wits. "What are you doing here?"

"Peachy be so sorry! Peachy not mean to be late for breakfast, but Peachy be making the soufflé with cheese that Master Draco likes so much...

"Au fromage, Peachy. We've been over this before. Culture, the last bastion of civility, or there is nothing," Lucius sighed.

"Peachy be sorry, Peachy be remembering that. Soufflè au fromage. And for Master Malfoy Peachy be making..." The house-elf broke off and looked at her hand, where she had a notation written. Lucius rolled his eyes skyward. "Profiteroles au chocolat." She giggled. "Master Malfoy has a sweet tooth!"

Draco swallowed. "Can someone please explain what the fu...er, what is going on?" He hated being out of the loop!

"Peachy be working for you now! This is all she ever be wanting, and she be so happy! Peachy have a nice, new home at Malfoy Manor with Master Malfoy and Master Draco and Master Pot..."

"Thank you. That will be all. Please confine yourself to the kitchen for the duration of the meal." Lucius gave a nod. One of the dismissive, curt ones.

After Peachy popped out...'no fighting in front of the help' fell under that 'last bastion of civility' notion...Draco stood up. "I thought we weren't going to keep secrets from each other any more?"

"Now, Draco. Where would you get an idea like that? When would I ever say such a thing?" Lucius picked up his fork and stabbed at his profiterole. "I said we needed to talk things out to avoid misunderstandings. I'm sorry if you ... misinterpreted that to mean that we should share everything. Merlin, no. The things I've done in my time would ..." Lucius laughed, and Draco felt a little sick, before his father seemed to remember the conversation. "Apologies. Gods, no. The very idea. And I, of course, do not need to be apprised of every aspect of your ... situation. Simply put, we shouldn't feel as though we can't speak about things that bother us. We are a family, and I am here for you. That being said, we now have a house-elf." Lucius took a calm bite of pastry.

"I noticed. When were you going to mention it?" Draco's frustration level grew.

"Don't shout at the breakfast table. I hardly needed to mention it. Your own powers of observation are intact and quite keen. You were able to observe for yourself."

"Father ..." Draco threw himself in his chair. The soufflé did look good. No sense letting it go to waste. Draco tasted a flake of the crust and sighed. "When are you going to stop treating me like a child and tell me what's going on?"

"Oh, I think it's so much more fun this way, don't you? All in good time, Draco. You'll find out when you're meant to. Now, hurry up and eat that. Everyone knows that soufflé is a dish best served hot." Lucius' lip twitched, and he picked up his newspaper. He had switched to reading The Quibbler exclusively.

"Why isn't it considered rude for you to re..." Draco stopped mid-complaint as his eyes fell on the headline: Parkinson Patriarch Convicted in absentia For Multilevel Blackmail Scheme

Draco gasped. Pansy's father, a blackmailer? But why? Draco couldn't wrap his head around the idea. "Father, may I see the paper?" he croaked.

"Sudden interest in politics? The sports page, perhaps? I hear the Kenmare Kestrels are favoured to win this season." Lucius smirked.

"Just hand me the damned front page!" Draco shouted. "Er, please."

"As you wish." Lucius handed the section over.

Draco scanned the words, hardly believing what he read:

Parkinson Scion Convicted in absentia For Multilevel Blackmail Scheme

Upon the decree that all personal property and liquid assets are to be relinquished to the control of the Ministry, frozen and held until they can be appropriately redistributed, Parkinson chose to become a fugitive from the law. He and his family...including his wife, Primrose, and his daughter, Pansy...are now officially labelled "Undesirables" and as such, should be considered dangerous to society. If anyone has any knowledge of their whereabouts, you are under duty to contact an Auror immediately. Anyone harbouring them will face a stiff penalty.

There was more in the article detailing the nature of the crimes and the trial, but Draco let the paper drop through nerveless fingers. "Did you have anything to do with this, Father?"

"Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies, Son. Now, business awaits you." Lucius stood. "I wish you luck in your endeavour."

Draco took a shaky breath, still uneasy about their possible role in the Parkinsons' downfall. "I'll need it."

*

Draco was glad for all the years of practice he had at concealing his emotions. He presented a picture of cool elegance to the world as he made his way through the lobby of his former employer's building, but inside he was as nervous as he had ever been. The elevator ride to his floor seemed endless, and he didn't know if he had it in him to follow through with this next task. This was a whole new world for him: one of feelings and vulnerability, and Draco wasn't sure he could find the strength he needed to do what he had to. What if people laughed at him? They were going to, he knew it. This was his worst nightmare...everyone knowing his deepest secrets and ridiculing him for it. He had no defence now if he went through with this. Cold sweat broke out on Draco's brow.

Then Draco thought of the alternative: life without Harry. Life as it had been in the last few weeks at the Manor. Him, alone. Knowing that he hadn't even tried. Was his pride that important to him?

When the bell chimed, notifying him of his destination, Draco squared his shoulders and stepped out of the elevator without fear. He'd lost everything there was to lose. What was there to be afraid of now?

"I'm here to see Luna," he told the secretary, who eyed him with professionally cultivated disinterest. He could see the excitement behind her glasses, but she pressed her lips together to hide it.

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Your appointment was ten minutes ago. Miss Lovegood's been expecting you." She narrowed her eyes in chastisement of his tardiness and lack of professional address.

"Then I'll just show myself in." Bitch. "I know the way."

She'd been standing to let him in and seemed disappointed to miss a moment of the action. "Of course."

He smiled at her and went through the doors to Luna's office. It was too small for someone of her standing at the paper, in his opinion. Luna wasn't behind her desk, but tucked in a corner chair with her feet curled under her. She waved him over to a matching overstuffed sofa.

"Draco! Come join me here. I find that I get the most work done when I can be free from the confines of the desk. Don't you just love to let your mind wander while you work? I have a view of the sky from here, and sometimes you can even see the diricawls flying, if it isn't too cloudy. They like to fly pretty high, you know, so you have to keep an eye out."

"What?" Draco found it hard to keep on the topic of conversation with Luna. "No, I didn't know."

"Oh, you should look for them! Lovely sight, so relaxing. You look like you could use a little bit of stress relief. Have a seat. Not there!" Luna laughed to soften her rebuke. "Sorry, I thought I saw a chizpurfle there this morning."

"A chizpurfle?" Draco echoed.

"Yes, that's right. Don't worry, I have someone coming to do an inspection later today, but you know they aren't catching. I just wouldn't want your magic siphoned, not so soon after its return!" Luna smiled. "Please, sit here. And can I offer you some asphodel tea? You know, most people don't think that you can drink it, but I was just experimenting with..."

Draco felt lulled into a pleasant stupor of confusion. He liked Luna, but listening to her talk always had this effect. Everything either seemed to make perfect sense, or it didn't in the least; you had to decide which one and go with it. Either that or the third option, which was to interrupt her and get to the point, or you might just fall into a sort of waking dream and listen to her forever. "Er, Luna. Thank you, no. I just came from breakfast, so no tea is necessary. I don't mean to be rude, but I am ... apprehensive about the reason for this visit. Could we discuss it?"

Luna blinked. "Of course. What can I do for you, Draco?"

Now that the time for decisive action was at hand, Draco lost his nerve. He swallowed and cast about for something else to help him get up his courage. He just needed time! "Actually, Luna, there was something else I meant to ask you about," he hedged.

"Yes?"

"I saw your headline this morning...well done, by the way..." he figured a little well-placed flattery never hurt, "and I was just wondering if ... Well, did my father have anything to do with Pansy's father's trial?" Draco picked at the fabric on the chair. He couldn't meet her eye.

"Draco, you know I can't reveal my sources," Luna said gently.

"But you can't print lies! Where did you get your facts from?" he burst out before he could stop himself.

"Draco." Luna sighed. "Let me say this, and you can do with it what you will. I received a tip from my source. Not about the information in the article. You're right, that would be unsubstantiated claims, and I couldn't print that. But the source turned in their evidence to Ministry officials and then told me where to be. In essence, the source gave me exclusive rights and I was there for the only press-release of information. So my information comes not from the source, but from the Ministry and Gringott's, and from all of the official places you read about. My source only told me that he was going to turn it all in, and just to be there to catch the fallout."

"He?" Draco perked up. "But why? Why you?"

"Because I imagine this person had this information for years. And for some reason he had a personal motive for turning in his friend now. And he wanted the press to be there to catch wind of it. Hm. I wonder why what could be, don't you?" Luna tilted her head. "There were no laws broken by my source. He did nothing wrong, so that need not be a concern. He merely brought a criminal to justice. And he helped this paper in the process. He could have sold the scoop to anyone...but he didn't."

Draco was silent.

"That isn't why you're here, Draco. What can I do for you?" Luna asked. She took a sip of her tea and curled her hands around the mug.

"I have something I'd like for you to print. On the front page. I know it isn't hard news, but I think it will sell plenty of papers just the same." Draco couldn't conceal the trembling of his hands as he withdrew the paper from his attaché case and handed it to Luna.

"Draco, we've been through this. You know I can't print ..." Luna trailed off as she read what was on the page. "Oh."

Draco didn't feel embarrassment like he thought he would. He didn't want to run anymore, or hide. He only knew hope, hope that this would work. Because he couldn't bear it if it didn't. He cleared his throat. "So, Luna ... you still see Potter, right?" He tried to sound nonchalant. "How is he these days?"

"Oh, fine," Luna hadn't looked up from the page yet. "He's good."

"What!" Draco frowned. "Er, I mean, of course he is. That's great. Good. I'm glad that he's good." Was he so forgettable, then?

"Hm? No." Luna pulled herself from her distraction and looked up. "It's not like that, Draco. He's good in that he's getting on with things. He's back to his job, which is nice to see. He is so talented at his chosen profession; I'm glad to see him doing what he's meant to do."

Guilt washed over Draco. He'd kept Harry from doing what he was supposed to be doing. From his own life.

"He got help for some of his problems. I wouldn't be saying this to anyone except you, but I think you know that he had a bit of trouble with drinking. Well, he is seeing to that, and he is a changed man. I haven't seen him this content in years. It is such a relief." Luna gazed into space, apparently picturing a happy Harry.

Draco's gut lurched. He was glad to hear that Harry was getting himself together, but changed? What did that mean? He felt a hand on his arm.

"He misses you, Draco. Anyone can see it. He's just ... ready, now." Luna patted him and then stood up. "I will be willing to print this for you. As for your fee ..."

Draco stood up as well and rummaged for his chequebook. "Please, tell me how much. As you know, money is never an object."

"Oh, your fee is not one that you can pay with a cheque."

Draco didn't like the sound of that. "What? What are you saying?"

"You have to know that money can't buy everything. I have all the money I need," Luna said.

Draco scowled. "No, you don't. You can always use more. You aren't rich!" He winced at his own indelicacy. "Er, are you trying to gain assets? A merger? What sort of proposal are you hinting at? I warn you..."

Luna held up her hands. "Stop, stop! I'm not threatening you! I'm telling you that I need something I can't buy. Good staff writers. You. In short, if you want me to publish this, you have to take your job back."

"Are you blackmailing me?" Draco bristled. "I'll have you know that that is against the law!"

"Actually, in this case it's extortion, which you ought to know. And yes. It is." Luna folded her arms against her chest. "But I'm pretty comfortable with that. So, what's your answer?"

Draco tapped his foot. The thing was, he'd been getting bored around the house, and he'd been missing the feeling of usefulness he'd had at The Quibbler. He just didn't like being outwitted. Although he'd been regretting his hasty decision to quit his job, it didn't sit well that Luna had played him so easily. Although he didn't have much choice now, it seemed. "This is all so very Slytherin of you, Luna," he complained.

"You've rubbed off on me, what can I say?" She stuck out her hand to shake. "It's good to have you back, Draco. Your desk is waiting for you. I'll see you here on Monday morning."

It wasn't until he was out of the front door that he realized that maybe he'd been lucky to have her for a boss...and a friend.

*

It didn't take long for Draco to settle back into the routine at work as if he'd never been gone. It was easier than he would have thought to sit at his desk and do the things he'd always done...it didn't feel as much like swallowing his pride as he thought it might. Draco suspected he had Luna to thank for that, as well.

Draco counted down the days until the paper was due to print his article. He timed his lunch break carefully; he couldn't afford to be off by a minute or his plans could go awry. As he left the building, Draco knew it wasn't his imagination that there were chuckles and eyes watching him, but no one dared say a thing to his face. He didn't know if Luna had sent around an inter-office memo, but whatever was responsible for the relative cap on the expected tidal-wave of teasing, he was grateful. He found that he didn't much care anymore what people thought of him, and that was a freeing feeling. Let them talk, let them judge, let them say whatever they wanted to or about him. For once in his life, Draco had more than his appearance on his mind .

Apprehension gnawed at the pit of his stomach for more important things than the opinions of the public. The very real concern about what Harry might say about his grand gesture began to percolate through him, but it was too late to turn back now. The wheels had already been set in motion, and this was going to happen, mistake or not. Draco strode through the doors of the Ministry building where the Aurors worked.

"Sir? Sir! You can't go through there!" the receptionist called after him.

Draco ignored her and kept going. He'd been in this building enough to know where the Aurors were. He took the stairs, grateful for his effortless athleticism as he vaulted them two at a time. The girl in the atrium was making a fuss, and he would no doubt be apprehended by security in a few minutes. He only had a short time to get to Harry and make his case.

Draco made the most of his time, finding his way to the offices of the Aurors, and it was too soon that he was in the maze of cubicles that held his fate. He'd waited for this moment, and now his heart was thumping its protest. He wasn't ready! But he had to be. This was his last and only chance. He had to take it.

Draco ran a hand through his hair. What would he say? Why hadn't he planned this better? Now that the moment was upon him, all words ran dry. He felt like he was back in school, as if he were about to take an exam he hadn't prepared for.

Draco was only dimly aware of the commotion his presence was causing as he ran through the aisles, searching. People were jumping up, aware of the alarm that had started to sound, and when they saw him in their midst, an outcry had begun. Everyone was following him on his mad dash through the office, but he had eyes only for...

Harry. There he was. His back was half-turned, so he didn't know Draco was there. Draco skidded to a halt. Papers were flying, people were shouting, it was a tornado of mass chaos, but there were just the two of them there in that moment. Draco drew in a breath to speak, to announce his presence, and then he saw what Harry was holding. The paper. He could see that Harry was reading it, and Draco had never felt so vulnerable as he remembered what he'd written. His declarations, his deepest feelings right there in black and white, spread across the front page for the whole world to read. There was no hiding who he was. He didn't want to. Not from himself, and not from Harry. Not anymore. They'd had too many misunderstandings for Draco to take a chance on more.

His stomach dropped out. He had hoped to get here first. To be the one to show him. To explain...

"Draco?" Harry had caught sight of him, the confusion writ large on his features. He blinked, as if waking from a dream. He looked around, and seeing the pandemonium around him, held up a hand. With hardly a whisper, he breathed "Silencio," and all was still. The crackle of his powerful magic could be felt in the air.

Draco shuddered a little as the hair on his arms stood on end. There was no denying that Harry was a powerful wizard. This was not even a tenth of what he could do.

"Why are you here, Draco? What's this all about?" Harry seemed resigned.

"Oi, who cares what it's about, Harry? Hasn't he proved that he's a worthless git?" Ron said from a neighbouring partition. "Don't listen to a word he has to say!"

Neville shook his head. "Hear him out. He's come all this way. Then he can go."

"I'm here for you." Hearing the words aloud gave Draco courage. "I don't know what happened that day, Pot...Harry. I didn't mean for any ... misunderstandings between us. I have always been afraid to say what I feel, what's in my heart, but now I'm not. Not anymore."

"What's changed?" Harry cocked his head. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"How do I know I can trust you?" Draco burst out. "I don't. But I want to try, because trust has to start somewhere. Here's what I know: I've never felt this before. I didn't know until you left just what you meant to me. I've been ... I've been sad without you, damn it! I know we'll fight, but that's okay. Because I am done with running from my problems. I want you in my life, because I know now that I can't stand things without you there. You make everything come alive for me, Harry. The good, the bad ... everything is better when you're there beside me. And I am tired of running from that; why would I want to? I took out a front page ad in the goddamned paper to show you that I am not hiding it from you, or me, or from anyone else in the world. I finally know what I want, and it's you. I love you, Harry Potter!" Draco felt like he had been through a war. He couldn't believe he'd said the words. He'd never said them to anyone else before, and he knew them to be true. "I don't know if you love me back, but that's how I feel about you."

Harry sucked in a breath. "I feel like I've waited forever for you to say that. But how do I know that you won't just run away again? It took everything I had to walk away that last time, because when I commit to something, I give it all I've got. If I do this, I'm in it for the long haul. I'm a one-man guy, Draco. I play for keeps, and all of this ... drama ... it's too much. I don't want my life to be like that. I can't live with uncertainty and fighting and you running away every time you get scared. I want someone inside and out, and I know that's a lot to ask from someone like you. I love you, but I am not strong enough to watch you leave me all the time. I'd rather be alone." Harry looked broken when he admitted that.

"You love me?" Hope flared in Draco's chest.

"Of course. Why else would I have put up with your shit all this time?" Harry allowed a little smile to break through. "But that doesn't change anything."

"Yes it does! Because I know that no wand, no magic...nothing that I have been trying to find can make me happy. It's you, Harry. It's always been you. I just never knew it until now. All this time I've wasted...I've been so stupid ... I can't promise you that we won't have problems, and I know there will be drama, but I can promise you that I won't ever let fear drive me from the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm not blind anymore, and I am asking you for this chance. I thought you were the one leaving me last time, and I have never been so empty. I don't ever want to be like that again: without you." Draco got down on one knee. "Will you please come back home?" Draco held his breath. Harry had to say yes!

"No."

Draco's heart fell, and there were gasps from the assembled group, who'd been hanging on every word. Draco didn't think he could take in another breath.

"But I will find a new home with you. One that we pick out together. Malfoy Manor is great, and your dad is fine, but I think we need to begin again, just ourselves. What do you say, Draco? Are you ready for a fresh start with someone who loves you, too?" Harry held out his hand and pulled Draco to his feet.

Draco didn't care who saw the kiss that they shared; he didn't even hear the mixed snuffles and cheers of the crowd around them. All he could feel were the arms of the man he loved around him, and the lips under his that brought him the most joy he'd ever known. Draco never thought this lightness could exist, or that someone like him could have it. Now that he had it, he intended to hold on with both hands and never let it go.

Draco looked down at entwined their fingers. Nothing had ever given him such bliss before as seeing their hands meshed together as one. He could feel Harry's pulse, the beat of his heart right there in his hand. Draco knew he'd never forget this moment, not as long as he lived. "Yes, Harry. Yes."

The End