Chapter 24
In Which We Learn That Not Everything is Happily Ever After,
But Some Things Make a Good Start

Monday morning dawned far too early, and it was sheer torture to drag themselves from their warm, comfortable bed out to face the horror of NEWTs. Breakfast involved a lot of the older students glaring at the rambunctious youngsters, as only the Fifth and Seventh Years had class of any kind. Dumbledore had effectively given them an extra week to celebrate with their friends before school let out, but the OWLs and NEWTs were far too important to skive off, even after preventing a war.

Harry wore his most comfortable school robes, surreptitiously wearing his favourite pair of Draco's green silk pants underneath for luck. Given the way Draco had dressed, Harry expected to find his own beloved blue boxers hadn't so much disappeared as decided to appear on hips other than his own for the day. Potions would take all day, sitting the exam in the morning, followed by the briefest of lunches and the practical.

Instead of the Great Hall, which was filled with Fifth Years taking their OWLs, they were down in the Potions classroom, taking the same bare dozen desks they usually did. There was one desk conspicuously empty and the guilt was like a missing tooth for Harry, something he prodded at with his mind just to make sure he could still feel the spot she'd taken up in his memories. Su Li had been quiet, and quite good at Potions, and he felt a stab of loss when he realized that was the extent of his knowledge of her.

"Quit feeling so bloody guilty, Harry, or I'm going to tell you what I saw in the corridor," snapped Draco irritably as the Ministry Wizard conducting the test strode in with Snape at his side.

"Er, what?" said Harry softly, confused now.

"I came 'round a corner and caught Lupin snogging Snape. And if you don't shut up, I'll describe it in vivid detail." Draco's voice was an echo of his old arrogant sneer, and Harry could feel nervousness fluttering in his stomach as well as Harry's own.

"Eew," said Harry with feeling, trying very hard not to notice the subtle flush to Snape's cheeks, or the shiny redness of his lips. "Oh, eew."

"Heh," said Draco, a small burst of satisfaction welling in his chest as all thoughts of grief were drowned out by vividly unpleasant images of Snape and Lupin together. He was actually grateful when the Ministry Wizard began handing out the exams, explaining that lunch would be provided in the classroom and immediately followed by the completion of a very complicated potion, which had been brewing for weeks in preparation for this exam.

Harry sighed, took up his quill, and began reading the questions over. Next to him, he felt Draco's feelings narrow down to focus on his parchment, only a small, warm thread of love left to show his awareness of Harry at his side.

---

By Friday, Harry was barely able to figure out the order in which to don his clothes, let alone decide which ones he was going to wear. His exams were done, four days of hell, but he still had to drag himself out of bed and get up to breakfast, or else Draco would never make it to his Ancient Runes NEWT. "C'mon, there's got to be tea up there."

"But the bed looks so nice and warm!" Draco protested, trying to climb back under the covers fully clothed.

"C'mon! Let's get you fed and off to your last NEWT." Draco had had Tuesday and Wednesday blessedly free while Harry took Transfigurations and DADA. They'd had Charms together yesterday, spending the afternoon on an exhausting series of complex spells, and in the end briefly demonstrating the Sanctuary Charm to the rather impressed Witch running the tests.

They'd tumbled into bed with barely a kiss, and been too tired this morning for even a cursory shag in the shower. The tension sat in his throat, pooled heavy in his groin. They hadn't heard about Draco's father's fate, and tomorrow there were funerals and ceremonies to be dealt with. It was eating at them, and even the warm, honeyed magic in their kisses didn't slow the acid corrosion enough. Even the weight of his ring didn't cheer him up like it should, feeling the gap between them growing with each passing silence.

It was almost a relief to be called up to Dumbledore's office late that afternoon, Draco quiet and solemn at his side.

Spring rain pattered against the high windows as they sat in comfortingly familiar squashy armchairs, tea in hand, and listened to Dumbledore speak. Lucius had been recaptured with the rest of the unconscious Death Eaters, and would sit trial right along with them. Questioning had revealed Draco's mother to be under the Imperius curse. Lucius Malfoy's estate would not be confiscated, but passed on to those he had most injured, Draco and Narcissa, contingent upon a thorough cleansing of the house by Aurors.

At some point, Draco's hand had fumbled over to clasp Harry's, and Harry sent all the love he could find along the bond, surprised to find so many other things damping it down. Guilt, of course, always the guilt, but also simple exhaustion, and a deep-running fear of estrangement. He'd had Draco for such a short time, and there was so much bad blood between them, old and new sins of commission and omission. Beneath the fear and guilt and pain, though, the love ran deepest of all, just waiting to warm them both when he called it forth.

They left still wrapped in numbness, Dumbledore's words of comfort ringing in their ears. Tomorrow they'd be expected to show up to everything, be paraded about to accept Orders of Merlin and possibly say things over the cold bodies of the dead. Harry shivered as they stepped into the cool gloom of the dungeon corridors, and tried to uncurl from his own brain long enough to make sure Draco was all right, nearly surprised at the anger and uncertainty simmering at the edges of his awareness.

"I'm sorry about, you know," said Harry softly as the door closed behind them. Draco lit the candles with a wave of his wand and began stripping out of his school robes in robotic silence. "If there's anything I can do..."

"What could you do, Potter? You don't know anything about real family, do you?" Draco spat, stripped down to a pair of Harry's missing boxers and looking pale, thin and angry. "You're not exactly gagging to become a Malfoy, anyway, so why don't you just leave it alone."

"Draco, what...?" Harry felt the weight of despair crushing his chest, most of it coming from Draco. His hands went to his clothing, stripping him bare of all his school clothes, everything that marked him as Gryffindor, as different. He fell to his knees in front of his partner, brought low by the weight of emotion, face turned up in supplication. "What can I do to make it right between us, Draco?"

"What are you on about? This isn't about us, don't you get it?" Draco was confused as well as angry now, looking anywhere but at Harry, hands fidgeting restlessly over the scars on his chest and arms.

"I think it is, Draco," said Harry softly. "I will try to be whatever you need, Draco, even if you need to hit me or fuck me or call me Harry Malfoy for the rest of my life. Just... don't hold it in anymore. Take it out on me, because it's hurting us both this way." Harry's cheeks were oddly damp, Draco's eyes suspiciously bright in return.

Draco lashed out, slapping him backhanded across the face. Harry's cheek exploded with pain and his head whipped around, but he recovered quickly, resuming his posture, this time with his hands submissively behind his back. Draco stared at him in horror, then dropped to his knees in front of Harry. He lifted his hands, fingers stretching towards the spot that Harry knew was already red and beginning to bruise. "God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't... I don't want to turn into him, d'you understand?"

Harry pulled Draco into an awkward embrace, ignoring the throbbing in his skull. "I understand. I won't let you, you know. I'm Harry fucking Potter, not some bloody girl."

Draco laughed wetly, harshly, and dug painful fingers into his arms. "Right now I just want to hurt anything, anyone, just to make my own pain go away." He practically choked on his own bitter laughter as he cried out, "Imperius!"

"You love her, don't you?" said Harry softly, running careful fingers through Draco's baby fine hair. "She'll recover, you know, and be your mum again."

Draco sniffled. "I should be grateful, at least I've got a mum, but god, it's hard."

"Bugger that for a lark," said Harry, with feeling. He'd spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself for losing his parents, but he'd also learned a thing or two over the years. There was more than one way to lose someone, and horrible tragedy happening to someone else in no way diminished your own pain. He stood, and pulled them gently up onto the bed, curling them together under the covers. "You be as angry and sad as you need to be."

Draco broke down and began to sob, crying wetly into Harry's shoulder, and Harry wished briefly for a handkerchief or box of tissues as they both began to sniffle. He let out his own grief and fear and pain, losing friends -- Luna, and oh god, Seamus! -- and having killed someone in cold blood, even if that someone was Tom Riddle. He felt something breaking loose in his chest, knocking itself loose in Draco's as well, and suddenly the warm golden love was pouring out, washing it all away.

He felt almost ashamed when he grew suddenly and undeniably hard, and Draco's head snapped up, eyes flashing. "You want to prove your love, Harry?"

Harry felt the breath leave his body in a rush and nodded once, dumbly. "You'll do anything I ask?" Draco's voice held too many things to read, like a book with half a dozen Pages stuck together, writing bleeding through the thin, wet Pages to make an indecipherable blob. Overflowing with meaning to the point of incomprehensibility.

Draco slid off the bed, pulling back the covers and shaking his head when Harry moved to follow. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and gave it a wave, and thin silver ropes snaked out of it. Seconds later, Harry was surprised to find himself bound hand and foot to the four bedposts, spread-eagled, still naked and very, very vulnerable. Draco turned and rummaged through his wardrobe, producing a green silk scarf which he used to blindfold Harry, following it with a harsh, claiming kiss.

Harry found himself caressed roughly, pinches and slaps as often as kindness. He knew where Draco was at all times because of their bond, feeling the frustration and fear welling up as he raked nails down Harry's thighs, bit his nipples until he cried out, licked over the white scar on one shoulder from Lucius' knife. He moved away and back, always hovering close by but never giving away his intentions as he explored Harry's skin and his tolerance, his desire, for pain.

Harry let his mind go limp, freeing himself of all his worries, from NEWTs to Voldemort, mismatched socks to dead friends, he let it all go and sunk himself into this new, physical world. At some point Draco had cast a silencing spell, and Harry's world narrowed to the smell of them together on the pillow, the lingering taste of tea on his tongue and, first and foremost, Draco's touch.

He was still hard, aching with need that wound tighter each time Draco's hands or mouth came in contact with his skin, regardless of whether to give pleasure or pain. It was all blending in his mind now, nothing but his lust for Draco, his desire to please and his overwhelming love for the arrogant, needy, beautiful boy. He couldn't move, or speak, so instead he let himself drown in the contact, in the heavy golden magic that dripped between them like honey and the love and lust that poured off of Draco like heat from a furnace.

He was spiralling out of control, everything building and him waiting, waiting to break apart until Draco was inside him, holding on to those last threads of everything with tooth and claw and other metaphors, his brain chanting over and over, "Yours." Draco was roiling with emotion, fear and frustration spiking through the simpler emotions of love and lust, edged about with a flock of smaller, stranger things.

Harry was so shocked he almost came and ruined everything when he felt that thing he'd only felt twice before, and only then by proxy. He felt himself surrounded by tight heat and wished he wasn't blind just so he could see Draco's face as he lowered himself onto Harry's shaft. It was agony, holding back as Draco slipped down onto Harry's cock with protracted care. Harry bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and felt himself pulse once, dangerously, when Draco leaned down to lick away the coppery drops.

His ears popped as the silencing spell was lifted, blinking in the sudden light as Draco peeled the blindfold away. He was still bound, but that felt safer, somehow, with Draco before him, around him like this, looking vulnerable and beautiful and like nothing he'd ever seen before. Magic shimmered between them like a heat haze, Draco's own power glittering silver over his skin while Harry sweat gold into the sheets. Draco's eyes were closed, lashes like a fringe against lust-pinked cheeks as he began to move.

They moaned in unison, and Harry felt the fear slice through Draco one last time, then fade away completely as he found that other thing inside himself, slid it over Harry's cock again and again, drawing them both towards the edge at breakneck speed. He tried to file the memories away in case Draco never wanted to do this again, but his brain wasn't tracking right and all he could do, still, was feel, and chant aloud with every gut-wrenching thrust, "Yours."

It came as no shock at all when he screamed Draco's name, pulled over the edge finally by the sheer weight of feeling, each bruise and bite part of the chorus of sensation, the magical bonds soft and weightless as he pulled against them, not to get away but just to know he couldn't. Draco rode him out, canting his hips and biting his pink bottom lip, his own release only moments away. Harry longed to touch the glowing skin, to pull his orgasm out of him with a few practiced strokes, and he felt riveted as Draco's hand drifted up to do it himself.

Draco's cry was wordless, soundless, as he spilled over fist and thigh, belly and chest. Harry felt him moving around his still-hard cock, milking those last few drops from his exhausted body. Draco found his wand, dismissed the bonds and collapsed in Harry's grateful embrace, leaving them joined and sated, the magic sinking back under their skins to curl, warm and waiting, in their chests. Harry borrowed Draco's wand long enough to summon the blankets back up over them, and drifted off to sleep.

---

Harry woke, for the first time in ages, alone. He immediately sat up, frightened as the memories of last night flooded in, and was relieved to see Draco sitting in his chair, reading. "Wondered when you'd get up," said Draco, smiling, as Harry slid out of bed and padded towards the bathroom. He felt the fool for ever doubting as Draco's warm presence thrummed in his chest.

"Why didn't you just wake me?" Harry asked, pausing at the door.

Draco shrugged in a swirl of affection. "I liked watching you. Go on, the house elves brought tea."

Harry took care of his morning things, splashing cold water over his face and finding a pair of soft flannel pyjamas to keep him warm as he sat next to Draco. The tiny table was nearly overflowing with pot, cups, creamer, sugar and a small plate of chocolate biscuits. "Er, are we ok, then?" Harry asked, nibbling on a biscuit.

Draco looked up, then folded the book in his lap, finger holding the place. "Yeah, we're ok. Thank you, for..." Draco reached out, leaning so his fingers could brush the impressive bruise on Harry's cheekbone. Harry had considered trying to heal it before he got out of the bathroom, but had felt it would be dishonest, somehow. "Everything."

Harry dropped a kiss on Draco's palm. "I meant it, you know, what I said. I love you like a part of me I never knew I was missing, and I'll do whatever it takes..."

Draco lowered his eyes, then nodded. "I hope... I don't ever want to hurt you, Harry, but I can't promise I won't."

Harry snorted, and Draco looked up, startled. "'Course you can't. People hurt each other, even when they don't mean to." Draco smiled, eyes going suspiciously bright. "Er, just for the record, are we going to..." Harry made a familiar obscene gesture, ending significantly near the tent in his trousers.

Draco laughed. "Yeah, we can. Any way you like it." Harry grinned, and Draco blushed. "I was afraid to, you know, until we... until I could feel how much you really enjoyed it."

"Bloody right I enjoy it, and you're going to do it to me again before we leave. I can't possibly sit through all of the crap today unless you've come in my ass at least once." Harry got a great deal of satisfaction at the way Draco's face slipped from nervous to positively eager as he processed Harry's words.

"You mean, you still want me to...?" Draco trailed off as Harry downed the last of his tea in one gulp.

"What, you thought I'd let you get out of doing all the work, just 'cos you put out once?"

They both laughed, and tumbled into bed. The road ahead was rocky, strange and unknown, but Harry knew one thing for certain -- he'd always have Draco beside him, wherever it took them.

finis