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Harry paused when he saw a slender man with dark hair ducking out of Lansby’s hospital room. He narrowed his eyes and glided out of sight into an empty room. The precaution was unnecessary, since the man was walking fast and didn’t look over his shoulder, but Harry felt compelled to take it anyway.

He was almost sure, from the set of the man’s shoulders and the length of the hair, bound up into a tail with a single silver ring, that this was Marcus Tollhun, who really shouldn’t have been anywhere near Lansby. He was a blood purist, too, but of a faction that hated associating with half-bloods. Lansby had no objection to that as long as the half-bloods were “respectful” of her.

Like me, Harry thought, and ran his thumbnail briefly across his teeth, thinking.

Then he shrugged. He doubted that he would get any information about Tollhun by standing here. He walked down the corridor and into Lansby’s room, with a smooth step and a bright smile, as if he had nothing to worry about in the world.

Lansby lifted her head when she saw him, but didn’t smile back. The bandage that ran down the middle of her left side, where Poppycock’s curse had struck her, was less red and thick this morning, Harry noted absently. He nodded to it and worked as much sympathy into his voice as he could. “You are feeling better?”

“I need to know the true extent of your association with Draco Malfoy,” Lansby said. Her voice was almost a bark.

You and Kingsley both, Harry thought. He had to spend less than a moment considering what tactic would serve him best here. He and Lansby didn’t share the bond of friendship that linked, or sometimes linked, him and Kingsley, and she would scorn softness.

Harry stiffened his shoulders, froze the muscles of his face, and took a few steps nearer the bed, let bristling offense show from every pore. “You think to question me?” he asked. He had dropped his voice into a region of ice, as well, and it was one he had not so far used around Lansby. He saw her go still as the effect penetrated through the layers of her own pride. “You think that you may control which circle of pure-bloods I associate with? Am I your pet, to attend on only those you say I may attend on?”

Lansby leaned back on her bed and winced as though her wound hurt, to gain time. Her eyes were clear, cold, and cautious as she responded, “I do not seek to control you. I do, however, seek to establish what you are doing with Malfoy. There are associations with that name that—”

“I know what the Malfoys did in the war,” Harry said. “I spoke for them. Narcissa Malfoy saved my life in the Forbidden Forest.” He didn’t think Lansby would accept that as an excuse for his interest in Draco, but he would try it. “I attended school with Draco. My familiarity with them extends further back in time than my familiarity with you.”

Lansby’s eyes narrowed, and she twitched her head, as though she were trying to shake cotton out of her ears. Good luck, Harry thought without mercy. It won’t work unless you can shake loose all the contents of your brain. “The name has associations with failure,” she said. “The Malfoys served a bad master and were fools enough to be caught in his downfall. And I assume, since you have been so close to him in the last days and weeks, that you have heard of Draco Malfoy’s ill-advised love affair.”

Harry snorted. “I neither fought on their side nor have any interest in Malfoy’s previous lover.”

Lansby’s voice rose dangerously. “If you have any interest in staying with me, in learning of the wonders that I have promised you, then you will need to give him up immediately. It does not matter where your interest lies. It must lie with mine.”

Another pause, while Harry’s brain worked rapidly. He had some idea, now, of what Tollhun must have told her. While Tollhun and Lansby struggled for control of the blood purist leadership, neither had any reason to love the Malfoys; Harry knew that Lucius Malfoy had tortured at least one Tollhun family member during the war.

The “wonders” she had promised him were introductions to other blood purists, those who either kept their beliefs private or weren’t on the Ministry’s map for other reasons. It would have been valuable to know who they might have to suspect of attacks on Muggleborns and half-bloods, to say nothing of attempts to unseat the Ministry itself.

It would have been.

Harry made his decision, and he found little regret in himself as he met Lansby’s eyes and said, “My interest declines to lie with yours.”

Lansby’s lips parted a little, and she stared at him with utter bewilderment. Harry, staring back, could only deduce that she had not expected this, had retained some faith in his loyalty to her even after Tollhun warned her that he was dating Draco.

Harry stared back emptily. He was not sure what effect this would have on his future course of trying to figure out the blood purists’ activities, though he strongly suspected Lansby would have demanded he give Draco up no matter what soothing words he found. Whatever Tollhun had said was too convincing.

He only knew that he could not give up Draco, even for the sake of a temporary deception. And who was to say that it would be temporary? Harry had already worked seven or eight months to come this far into Lansby’s confidence. It might take years more before she would really trust him and admit him to her counsels.

Then, too, there was bitter experience of his first year among the pure-bloods that he so rarely let himself remember. He had thought, then, that he could sleep with someone he hated and keep his pride and heart separate from his body. It had not worked. He had refused, on any account, to let what arrogant pure-bloods wanted dictate his lovers since.

But all that was so much smoke and wind. At bottom, he simply refused to give up Draco. That was all.

And if I’m not going to let Emma Lansby and Kingsley stand in the way, then I shouldn’t let my fear stand in the way, either.

Those thoughts whipped through Harry’s head like streams of fire and then vanished into nothingness as Lansby lifted herself from the bed and pointed a shaking finger at him. Harry saw a true splash of new blood fall from her wound. She didn’t seem to care.

“You are banished from my presence,” she whispered. “There is nothing that will ever bring you back into my good graces. There is nothing you can do that will convince me you are an ally. Tollhun was right, and I a fool ever to have listened to you.”

Harry bowed. “If you feel that way about it,” he said mildly, because he knew mildness would exasperate her far more than anger, and turned and left her hospital room before she could throw something at him.

The air in the corridor of St. Mungo’s wasn’t really all that different from the air in Lansby’s room, but Harry took a deep breath of it nevertheless. He felt as if it had walked out of a trap that was fast closing in on him.

He could deal with other pure-bloods. He could see them as people and their manners as customs to be laughed at or adopted. But the blood purists made him feel as if he were slogging through chest-high shit, and he didn’t like the person he became when he was pretending to share their opinions.

This was the right decision, whatever the consequences.

One of the consequences would be an immediate report to Kingsley. Harry went to make it.

*

Blaise had that look that he always got when he had news that he knew Draco would want to hear but which he preferred to keep to himself for the moment—simply so that he could torment Draco. His lips were pursed, his eyes narrowed as though he were squinting against the sunlight or to keep from crying. He would stare at Draco, then look away again when Draco tried to catch his gaze.

Draco put up with it for a few hours. They were out watching the house-elves guide the two winged horses that Blaise had recently bought through their paces. The horses were too young to fly yet with a rider, but watching them was a positive pleasure. They were black Abraxans, with snow-white manes and white left forelegs. Draco relaxed as he watched their muscles flex and light ripple off their coats as if moving underwater. He had forgotten such pleasures in America, where Paul seemed keen to avoid any “mere” beauty.

Eventually, though, Draco said, without looking away from the horses, “Tell me what you know about Harry.”

It was worth the long silence to hear the scrape and rustle of Blaise’s robes against the chair he sat on. Then he took a long, unconvincing sip of his drink. “What makes you think that I know anything about Potter?”

“Please.” Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “You obviously want me to ask what you know, and who else would I be interested in news of?”

Blaise sighed, as though to say that Draco was heaping difficulties on him, and then said, “It seems that Potter has broken with Emma Lansby.”

Draco felt as though he was watching Harry dance again, so deep was the surge of pleasure that passed through him and left him panting in the wake of it. He tilted his head back and concentrated on the sunlight that played across his face, so he wouldn’t sound absolutely silly when he spoke again. “Did you really doubt he would?”

“Yes.”

Draco glared at Blaise, his good mood dampened. Blaise shook his head slightly. “Potter is a political person,” he said, “and he’s always been the Minister’s creature. I thought he’d do anything for the advantage, including betraying his own heritage to associate with Lansby and—” He hesitated.

“And giving me up,” Draco finished. He couldn’t really blame Blaise, but irritation joined the pleasure anyway. “That was one reason you were so reluctant to see me dating him.”

“You looked shattered when you first came here,” Blaise said bluntly. “I didn’t want to see that happen again.” He leaned across the gap between their chairs and shook Draco’s shoulder. “You made a fool of yourself over Breaker, but you’re still my friend, and I think you’re vulnerable. Potter is more dangerous to become infatuated with than anyone else I can think of, except maybe Granger or the Minister.”

Draco spent a few moments watching him with a faint, warm smile on his face, the only expression he would permit. Blaise, though he rarely expressed such “soft” emotions aloud, was still his friend, and didn’t want to see Draco hurt.

“I think I know what kind of ground I stand on with him,” Draco said. He rarely expressed things like this aloud, either, but Blaise had taken some risks for him, and Draco didn’t want to appear unappreciative. “Neither of us is certain yet that we want to stay with the other. It’s more than a bit of fun, but it’s not what I felt for Paul, either. Or what I thought I felt for Paul,” he was compelled to add, as Blaise’s eyes darkened with concern. “We’ll move slowly, and I think I’ll be all right.”

“You think,” Blaise said, and snorted, and leaned his head back against the chair, directing his gaze at the horses again. “Some of us are the ones who’ll have to put you back together if you fall apart over Potter, so some of us would like a stronger assurance than your thoughts.”

“And some of us can’t give them, yet,” Draco replied sharply.

Blaise grunted. Draco decided he was satisfied enough. He looked back at the horses, too, and started plotting where he would take Harry for a celebratory dinner.

*

“Do you mean to give up peacekeeping among the pure-bloods entirely, then?” Kingsley’s eyes were somber.

That was the sort of challenge that would have taken Harry in five years ago. But his training had included the best ways to spot logical fallacies and come up with arguments to counter them, and this was a fallacy in the best style. Kingsley was taking an extreme stance, when Harry had offered a moderate action.

“I mean to give up trying to convince Emma Lansby,” Harry disagreed peacefully, “since she is unlikely to let me near her again no matter how persuasively I speak. I do not mean to give up our longer-term projects.” He sat back in his chair and smiled slightly as he watched the shadows of frustration move over Kingsley’s face.

“Emma Lansby is currently the greatest threat we face.” Kingsley toyed with a quill between his fingers.

Lying, Harry thought, his eyes following that telltale. Or at least he’s exaggerating the truth, and aware that he’s exaggerating. “No,” he replied, “I would disagree. And I think you will allow that I know the inner circles of the pure-bloods better than you do.”

Kingsley opened his mouth to speak, then closed it with a sigh and motioned for Harry to go on.

“The greatest danger,” Harry said, “is that the pure-bloods will find some powerful and charismatic leader they can follow, who will unite them the way Voldemort managed to unite them and persuade them to forget about their petty differences. Without that, however? I think they will cause wildfires, but only that. Not a wholesale burning of the British wizarding world.

“And you forget, Kingsley—” or you haven’t thought enough about it altogether, since you have people like me to think about it for you “—that those petty differences are the heart of pure-blood culture. Entire alliances can chill because someone wears the wrong color to a party or makes a single careless remark.” Harry cocked his head. “That was the reason I had to train so long to enter the circles I now traverse, because by nature I am not an observer of such reactions. But now that I know enough to master the conventions, we can make this work for us. I can work to exacerbate those petty differences and keep their pride alive. Individuals might feel hostility towards Muggleborns. My task isn’t to change those prejudices and feelings altogether—though I will do what I can to soften them—but to keep those individuals from finding one another and growing into strong coalitions. And if I see another Voldemort, I intend to eliminate his prospects for advancement before he can come anywhere near so far as the one we know about.”

Kingsley leaned back in his seat, eyes shadowed. “I would feel better if I simply know why you are so hostile to the suggestion to give up Malfoy.”

“Because it impinges on my freedom and on his.” Harry laughed when Kingsley stared at him in disbelief. “Is it so remarkable that I should have boundaries and freedom, sir? Or do you find the idea of his boundaries and freedom incomprehensible?”

“You barely know him, Harry,” Kingsley said. “You have not dated him for years. You do not know whether you’ll stay together.”

“No one knows at the beginning whether they will stay together,” Harry said, letting his irritation color his voice. Now Kingsley was saying nonsensical things, as if he thought that he had to locate truth if he simply launched enough random words into the air. “Ron’s told me that he had doubts about his marriage at times, and Hermione told me about her doubts, too—different ones. I know many people who are either divorced or living separately. I know other people who met suddenly and dated rapidly. If you are demanding a certainty of me that you don’t enforce on your other people, Kingsley, then you are holding me to an inhuman standard that I can’t attain no matter how much training I undergo.”

“I simply worry that Malfoy could endanger your chances to be successful at your job,” Kingsley said, “by distracting you when you should be watching out for the next Voldemort.”

Harry leaned forwards, staring at Kingsley until he hesitated. “If that were the case,” Harry said at last, “then I would choose Draco over my job.”

“I find it hard to believe that you can care about him that much,” Kingsley said stiffly.

“I don’t care about your belief, sir,” Harry responded. “And if you try to impose limits on me that others don’t have to follow, then I repeat, that is inhuman, and I will leave.”

For long moments, they sat in silence, with Kingsley staring at Harry as if trying to will him to back down and Harry staring back. He was confident. If it came down to a choice, Kingsley needed Harry too much to force him away from the Ministry. He might distrust Draco, he might whinge about it, but he would put up with it.

Kingsley finally grunted and looked away. “I do hope that Malfoy won’t draw you into any ill-considered alliances,” he said.

“Trust my training to keep me out of such entanglements, sir,” Harry replied, keeping his voice soft, almost deferential, as he rose to his feet and retreated out of the office. He had won the battle he cared about. It was only diplomatic to let Kingsley have the petty victory that could reassure him he was still in control.

Yes, trust my training. And Draco’s lack of interest in things like that.

*

“Draco.”

Harry’s voice was warm in spite of the fact that there were people watching them. And three of those people were his friends. Draco blinked, then reached out tentatively to accept Harry’s hand.

He had gone to Diagon Alley because Astoria had complained delicately for a few minutes about the lack of roses to decorate the tables for that afternoon’s private party and the house-elves’ lack of skill in choosing precisely the right flowers. He had not realized that he would run into Harry as he walked from the florist’s to his Apparition point. Granger, Weasley, and a red-haired girl who must be Weasley’s sister looked no less shocked. Then there was the peering public; Draco saw plenty of people starting to pay attention over their shoulders when they realized exactly who Harry Potter was greeting.

But Harry stepped up to him and clasped his hand as though they were alone, then kissed him on the mouth. He didn’t use his tongue, luckily, and Draco realized he’d been silly to fear that Harry would; Harry knew something about the limits of good taste and decorum now. But he kissed Draco long enough and enthusiastically enough to calm any doubts in the minds of observers about their being just acquaintances.

Harry drew back and gave him a self-satisfied smile. His friends shook off their daze and began to move forwards.

In the moments before they arrived, Harry lifted his head and breathed against Draco’s ear, “Sorry if I caught you off-guard, but I wanted to make it clear to them that you are important to me.”

Draco blinked, had time to think that someone else must have pushed Harry into trying to say that Draco wasn’t important, and then faced Harry’s friends with Harry firmly at his side.

Granger had grown into her teeth, though she would never have a handsome face or figure, with all that mass of curling hair. She studied him, nodded shortly, and said, “Harry did mention something about dating you.”

Draco kept his voice exactly as cool as hers was. He was the one on the defensive here, and though he often disliked that position, in some ways it was easier, as he had only to react to their reception of him instead of trying to think frantically through all the possible ways he might offend them. “He mentioned that you’re doing well.” Harry had dropped a remark to that effect when they were at the Perpetual Party. “I believe you’re still fighting for house-elves?”

Granger searched his expression for some insult. She’d become uncomfortably sharp, Draco thought, her gaze almost a match for Professor Snape’s in the way it probed.

But then she inclined her head and said, “Yes, I am, and the fight is going fairly well.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’d like to present Ron Weasley and my sister-in-law, Ginny Thomas.”

Draco stifled a chuckle. Did she think that we might not recognize each other? But he saw Granger’s gaze became sharp again, and he decided that she was probably trying to offer everyone the most polite way out. He bowed, therefore, and murmured some words that he could never remember after that moment.

They must have served the purpose, though, because Harry tightened his hold on Draco’s hand and looked fiercely proud, and the two Weasleys, or the Weasley and the Thomas, didn’t try to murder him. Weasley himself went red in the face and muttered something ungracious, but he looked sufficiently mulish that Draco could restrain himself from responding in kind.

Thomas tossed her hair over her shoulder and grinned at him. “I wondered when someone would finally capture Harry’s heart,” she said. “Didn’t think it would be someone like you.”

“Someone male?” Draco asked. He was going to take the politest interpretation of her words that he could, since otherwise he was likely to forget that these were Harry’s friends.

“That,” Ginny said. “And someone pure-blood. Harry’s been quite adamant so far about insisting that he’d never date a pure-blood, because he thinks the lot of you are shallow.” She turned and faced Harry, her expression lively with curiosity. “So what changed your mind, Harry? You were denouncing them as recently as a month ago.”

“I’d be curious to know that, too, mate,” said Weasley. He looked a little less red now, but he still peered at Draco as if he expected him to transform into a horned toad at any moment.

Harry laughed. Draco blinked at him. He had changed, too. He didn’t seem to mind the people who were peering at them, and he didn’t wear the polished manner that he did in any pure-blood setting. He faced his friends with a slight challenge in his stance, even, as though he knew he could argue with them and they would still be his friends.

They’ll accept me, Draco thought with sudden, bone-solid certainty. They might not be thrilled about it, but they’ll accept me. They care more about his happiness than they do about things that happened ten years ago.

“A month ago, I did think the same thing I’ve always thought,” Harry said, with a small shrug of his shoulders. “A month ago, I didn’t know Draco.” He smiled and reached up to lay the back of his hand, fingers folded, against Draco’s cheek.

Draco swallowed, unable to know what the right words to speak would be. Harry’s fingers spread out on his cheek, and he smiled more widely, then leaned in to take another small kiss. Draco found himself unable to respond except by flattening his hands out on Harry’s shoulders and holding him in return, though his cheeks stung with embarrassment. He remembered their audience—all the levels of it—if Harry had forgotten.

“And it’s as simple as that, is it?” Weasley asked when they broke apart, his voice heavy with skepticism.

“Hush, Ron,” Thomas said, with such imperious authority that Draco was taken aback. “If they’re happy together, then I don’t think we need to worry about whether it’s simple or complex. And if Malfoy’s all wrong for him, then Harry will see sense and back off eventually. He doesn’t need a nursemaid to look after all his decisions the way you do.”

Weasley began to protest, but Thomas cut him off by turning to Draco and giving him a vaguely threatening smile. “Of course,” she said, “if you and Harry break up and you’ve hurt him before you do it, then I’ll have to cut your fingers off one by one and feed them to sharks. I’m sure you understand.”

Draco managed to nod, and then add, when it looked as though she was waiting for a verbal answer, “Of course. I would do the same thing to someone who hurt Harry.” And I think he would do the same thing to someone who hurt me. It did make him curious to know what Harry would do to Paul if Harry believed in revenge.

“Good,” Thomas said. “Then that’s settled, and I think we can like you when you give us a chance.” She nodded to Draco, grabbed both Weasley and Granger’s hands, and herded them off. Weasley glanced back at him, grumbling, and Granger glanced back with eyes that were so bright and sharp and distasteful Draco could imagine cutting himself on them.

One who accepts me without reservation, one who doesn’t, and one who’s waiting to see what I do. Draco touched his forehead to see if he was sweating; he felt rather as he did when he managed to pass the practical portion of his Potions NEWT. I can live with that, I think.

“You were brilliant.”

And then Harry was giving him another kiss, and Draco’s resolve to ask what had made him so enthusiastic melted in the face of his own desire.

*

“You look picturesque together,” Astoria Zabini told Harry. “It remains to be seen if you can look elegant.”

Harry grinned at her. He and Draco were sitting on one side of the Zabinis’ dining room table while Astoria and Blaise occupied the other. Blaise hadn’t stopped scowling doubtfully at Harry since he entered the house, but he hadn’t said anything—for the same reason that Ron hadn’t complained that much, Harry thought, a mixture of shock and a reluctance to hurt his friend. Doubtless he would question Draco closely after Harry was gone.

But after facing the challenge of Kingsley and the test of his friends, and winning both times, Harry felt ready to conquer the world. He gave Astoria a small bow. “You must think we could look elegant together, or you would not have placed us at the same table during your last party.”

“That was Draco’s doing, and none of mine.” Astoria gave him a blank face that said he wouldn’t score points with her easily.

“Ah,” Harry murmured, with a wise nod, “but you’re too good a hostess and too clever a judge of beauty to have seated us together if we looked horrible and would thus have done your party a disservice, no matter what Draco wanted.”

Finally, Astoria gave him a faint, cold smile. Harry treasured it as much as he would a larger one from someone like Hermione. It didn’t matter that he had to struggle so hard against prejudice of various kinds, and so did Draco; they would make it.

“There are some things that I would like to know,” Blaise interrupted. “Exactly how and when did you decide that you loved Draco, Potter?”

Draco leaned on Harry’s shoulder for a moment. Harry glanced at him fondly. Even in the midst of his exhilaration, he knew that Draco was nervous about the answer to that question—and would probably be nervous no matter what answer he gave.

“Some people started making noises about my giving Draco up,” he said quietly. “I’m still unclear on the name to give my own feelings, but I know that I wouldn’t have felt that much resistance to the idea if I didn’t feel something strong for him.”

“So external pressure is the only reason for this sudden declaration of sentiment?” Blaise smiled derisively. “And what happens when that pressure is removed? Will you as suddenly return to plain indifference?”

It’s good that he’s defending Draco this strongly, Harry reminded himself as he curved an arm around Draco’s shoulders. It means that he’s a true friend, and that he won’t let Draco go to just anyone, especially after what happened between Draco and Paul.

“For five years, the most important thing in my life has been preventing another war on account of blood politics,” Harry said. “I’ve talked and danced and attended mindless party after mindless party—yours excepted, of course, Mrs. Zabini—for that one goal. I should have been willing to do anything to advance it. I thought I was. I was desperate to prove that I could still serve the wizarding world after I defeated Voldemort, and it was too dangerous for me to be an Auror. Why shouldn’t one driving purpose replace another? It seemed natural.

“And then, for whatever reason, Draco started mattering to me. I don’t think I can explain it all.” Part of that was a lie; Harry could have given them some reasons, but that would be turning over certain secrets that he suspected Draco didn’t want him to turn over. If Draco felt differently, he could always tell the Zabinis about them after Harry left. “Part of it was that he took the time to notice and challenge me. Many of the people I deal with from day to day are either my friends already and not in a challenging relation to me, or so self-absorbed that they never notice I’m not their perfect mirror.”

Blaise snorted, and then looked sorry that he’d done it. Astoria’s cold smile grew a bit broader.

“He proved that he was willing to meet me in the Three Broomsticks. Not the most posh of environments.” Harry looked at Draco. He rolled his eyes and reached up to push Harry’s fringe back from his forehead. A moment later, Harry could feel Draco’s finger tracing his scar. He smiled at him and looked back at the Zabinis. “At the same time, he has that intelligence and perceptiveness and politeness that I find myself unable to do without after so many years among the pure-bloods. I know that he’s not the only person about who has those qualities, but he’s the only one I’ve been interested in.” He spread his hands. “And there you have it.”

Blaise squinted at him. “There must be more.”

“Well, yes,” Harry said dryly, “but I doubt that you would appreciate hearing it in detail, Mr. Zabini, any more than I would ask what attracts you to your wife.” He looked at Astoria, paused long enough to stir excitement, and then added, “Never mind, I withdraw the question as too obvious. I might ask it the other way around, though.”

Blaise flushed. Astoria laughed like someone clashing two champagne flutes together. “I tire of hearing only one side of the conversation,” she said, and turned to Draco. “What do you think, Draco? Are you happy?”

Draco looked down. Harry glanced at him, and saw him biting his lip as though he were trying to stifle a smile. Harry blinked. I didn’t realize I knew that. When did I pick that up? Somewhere in those hours of watching his face, I reckon.

“Yes,” Draco whispered. “I know what you think.” He looked up at his friends defiantly, his face slightly pale, and Harry realized that he was seeing Draco’s openness in turn, the way Draco had seen Harry’s openness in front of his own friends. “I know that you think this is too fast, too swift after Paul. But for me, it’s not—not right now. Maybe someday we’ll wake up and this will pass like a dream. But for right now, this is what I want.”

“My dear, of course I am not thinking that.” Astoria gave a little shudder. “I assure you, my thoughts express themselves much more eloquently and in complete sentences.”’

Draco laughed, but it was muted. He glanced at Blaise. Harry squeezed Draco’s shoulder. Draco nodded back to let him know he’d felt the touch, but didn’t lean on him. Harry understood. Even Draco’s openness was guarded; he understood emotional revelation as taking a risk, so Harry doubted that the Zabinis had heard the full story of Draco’s time with Breaker. Draco wouldn’t see enough to gain from it.

Which is another reason that I shouldn’t have brushed him off, that night at their party when he told his story to me.

Harry refused to feel guilty, though. He’d had no way at the time of knowing that Draco’s story was genuine. He was glad that he’d found out, and he would support Draco from now on and do his best to nurture all the wounds of a broken heart. That would have to be enough.

“I want to be happy,” Draco said. “At the moment, this seems like my best chance of becoming so.”

He ended on a note that Harry suspected his own friends would have found too prissy by half. But Astoria and Blaise both nodded as though it were enough, and then Astoria rose to her feet and ordered them out of the sitting room, as she still had a party to prepare for.

Draco almost dragged Harry into a small room down the corridor—except not literally, because that would have been too undignified, Harry thought, still struggling against unwonted hilarity. Then Draco turned to face him, staring earnestly into his face, and Harry’s impulse to laugh vanished.

“I want to know,” Draco said, in a low, precise voice, “how much of this really is motivated by the desire to flick your fingers at your friends and the Ministry.”

Harry reached out, skimming his hand down the side of Draco’s face. Such strength and such pride there, and behind both, such trembling vulnerability. Harry wanted, more than anything, to guard all of it, and help Draco so that someday he would feel perfectly strong again or able to express the vulnerability—whichever one it was that would make him most comfortable and happy.

I want him to have whatever he needs.

“Exactly as much as I explained to the Zabinis,” he said. “Shacklebolt pushed me too far by urging me to give you up so that I could be a better spy on Lansby. I refused. So I don’t know that I would have come to any knowledge of what I feel for you without that push.

“But none of what I did today was a show for my friends, except in the sense that I want them to understand they can’t harm you or insult you and not have it rebound on their heads.”

“You’ve known me, known me, too short a time to be certain of something like this,” Draco whispered.

“And that’s why I’m not certain.” Harry used his thumbs to rub at the corners of Draco’s eyes. “Maybe it won’t work out, the way we thought it might not when we started talking about dating. I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I just know that I like you a lot, and I want you, and I admire you, and the length of time I’ve known you has no connection to that. It’s simply happened.” He hesitated. “Is that enough for you? Or do you want something more?” Now that he was ready to move fully forwards into a relationship with Draco, it chagrined him to remember that he hadn’t really asked Draco what he thought of the matter.

Draco leaned forwards and rested his forehead on Harry’s chest in answer. Harry thought he could feel Draco’s eyelids trembling.

“Well,” Harry said, stroking his fingers through Draco’s hair. “That’s answer enough for me.”

And it was, even if Harry was unsure of the specifics. Draco could have all the time he needed.

Part Eight.

Date: 2009-06-24 03:05 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valkyrie17.livejournal.com
Go Harry! I was pleased to see him standing up for his relationship with Draco.

Date: 2009-06-25 11:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thanks! Even though Harry is not yet sure if he's in love with Draco, I figured that was something he could to do show that he's well on his way there.

Date: 2009-06-24 03:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] azamir.livejournal.com
it's "refuse Kingsley's wishes" this week in you fics, eh? XD

great chapter. I wonder what Lansby will actually do now she's lost Harry's interest, and I like how Harry is gaining back the control over his life. He sets his own boundaries now, has his own stance and that will be good for him!

*huggles Draco* see, you did the best for Harry!

*skips away*
Aza^^

Date: 2009-06-25 11:35 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
I guess so! I really didn't mean to write two fics at once where he's like this; it wasn't planned at first in either one of them.

Harry is very grateful to Draco for helping him like this.

Date: 2009-06-24 03:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kyaerie.livejournal.com
I really like this - with elements like Draco's eyelids trembling and forehead resting on Harry's chest being answer enough for Harry, like both Draco's evolution towards either strength or open vulnerability are acceptable in being more emotionally stable. It still reminds me of my favourite parts of your early HD fics like A Year's Temptation and Frames of Mind.

Hope both the spider bite and the antibiotic reaction have fully surrendered to your good health.

Date: 2009-06-25 11:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you! It's been a long time since I've done a fic this tightly focused on the two of them. It's nice for a change of pace.

And yes, they have. Thank you!

Date: 2009-06-24 03:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] brknhalo241.livejournal.com
What a wonderful chapter. So very proud of Harry for making the decision that suits himself and his chance at happiness. I also enjoyed the contrast that was illustrated between Harry making his intentions clear to his friends and Draco doing the same with his own friends. I think what I enjoyed the most here was the self-honesty that seemed to be very evident which included the truth that the future isn't certain but no doubts about moving forward in spite of that.

Date: 2009-06-25 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

I didn't want to say that Harry and Draco were certain of each other yet, because I'm aware that they really aren't, and it would feel false to try to make them act like they were in love and would be permanently. This is why the uncertainty, and the maturity, and a possible way out.

Date: 2009-06-24 03:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] deerang2002.livejournal.com
Wonderful chapter! I'm glad that Harry has finally found the limits to his job (the fact that he is bound by the same rules and constraints as all others and that he doesn't have to sacrifice his personal life for his professional job)...and the contrast in the interactions with Harry's friends and Draco's friends were both wonderful and very telling. Can't wait for the next chapter! I'm a bit sad, however, that there's only one chapter left of this marvellous story...

Date: 2009-06-25 11:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Harry has done a lot of growing in a very short time.

I'm kind of sad about it, too, but hey! That means I can start a new one.

Date: 2009-06-25 11:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Date: 2009-06-24 04:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lunasky3.livejournal.com
AWWW Harry :D

Date: 2009-06-25 11:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
He's cute, isn't he?

Date: 2009-06-24 04:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] seedless-acorn.livejournal.com
One of the things I picked up on and absolutely loved was Harry's acknowledgment that he could not preform inhuman tasks. I feel so proud of this Harry and his knowledge of himself and those around him and I really get the feeling that this is quite the little whirlwind romance. I enjoyed this chapter very much!

Date: 2009-06-25 11:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you! This is a Harry who is more perceptive than the usual run of the ones I write, so I thought it was only fair that he got the chance to apply his general perceptiveness to himself.

Date: 2009-06-24 06:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hogwartshoney.livejournal.com
*Loves all over this story*

Date: 2009-06-25 11:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Date: 2009-06-24 07:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jtsbbsps-dk.livejournal.com
Ooooh! They are so adorable in a dignified way *grins* *swoons*

Lovely chapter! ♥

Date: 2009-06-25 11:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Date: 2009-06-24 08:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] invincible-sum.livejournal.com
Go, Harry! This Harry is so very intelligent and perceptive, although perhaps it's also just his training allowing him to form and to express his thoughts in a much more elevated and coherent manner. I like the interactions of the different groups of friends, and the relatively realistic approach which Draco and Harry are taking to their relationship. I'm not used to reading about a Draco who let himself be brought so low by what he thought was love, but still, the story is working :)

Date: 2009-06-25 11:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
His training started it. For once, he decided to turn that training on himself and his relationships with other people. (He probably wouldn't have thought to do so if Draco hadn't provoked him to it).

And thank you!

Date: 2009-06-25 02:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kelahnus-24.livejournal.com
This is great! I'm happy that Draco and Harry are giving it a try, not to see if it actually works out ^^

Date: 2009-06-25 11:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you! They will do their very best to make sure it does work.

Date: 2009-06-25 03:42 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] materia-indigo.livejournal.com
I really like how strong both Draco and Harry are.

Date: 2009-06-25 11:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you!

Date: 2009-06-25 09:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] monster-o-love.livejournal.com
*completely melts* God, I love this chapter!!! It's just so wonderful to see Harry defending & showing off his relationship to his dearest friends and in public too!!! And oh how I love Blaise & Astoria and Blaise's protectiveness of Draco. This chapter is just made of LOVE!!! So much yay!!! <3

Date: 2009-06-25 11:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lomonaaeren.livejournal.com
Thank you! I think both Harry and Draco are very lucky to have such protective, understanding friends- though Draco probably needs them more than Harry does right now, simply because of the horrible things that have happened to him in the recent past. It's been nice, for once, writing a fic where they're not in conflict with their respective friends.

Date: 2009-06-26 05:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kawanale.livejournal.com
lovely chapter!

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