Harry awoke with a smile. When he opened his eyes and turned his head, there was another face-a bit blurry-looking back at him. The face had blond hair. "Good morning," he sighed.

Draco's head was propped up on one hand. It looked like he'd been watching Harry sleep for some time. "You look like the proverbial cat who ate the canary," he said.

Harry smiled broader-if that were possible. "I did. And he was delicious."

Draco blushed. Harry could see that much without his glasses. He reached over to his side table to put them on, and then turned back to gaze at Draco gazing at him. "How are you doing this morning?" He tried not to sound worried, but he was concerned that Draco might have regrets, and he dearly hoped there wouldn't be any.

Draco wore a lazy smile, and his lids hung low over his grey eyes. "I'm undeniably sore, very happy, and…with a bit of a crush, I think."

Harry's eyes rounded. "Really?"

"Uh huh." Draco's hand caressed Harry's face from his temple down to his chin. "More than a crush, really. You're pretty irresistible yourself, Potter."

"I try," he said, moving closer. Draco leaned over and kissed Harry's mouth, drawing on his lips until he pulled away.

"That was quite a celebration you offered."

"It's not everyday you become a teacher."

"You mean I can't expect that kind of treatment everyday?" Draco pouted.

"Well not every day. You want to kill me?"

"Oh come on, Potter! You're a healthy young man. You mean you haven't the stamina for it?"

Harry chuckled. "I'll give it a try if you will."

Draco laughed, grabbed Harry and rolled over with him, with Harry ending up on top of Draco. "And this is where we started," he said seductively.

Harry didn't want to, but he glanced at the clock and winced at how late it was. "I hate to say this, but you've got a lot of work to do. Shouldn't we…you know…get to it?"

"I am getting to 'it'."

"I don't mean that, you git. I mean work. You've got classes to prepare for. And I'm no bloody help because I'm new at this too."

Draco groaned. "But Harry. I'm new at this as well. I need my practice."

"Trust me. You're a very fast learner. Twenty points to Slytherin."

"Only twenty?"

"All right, fifty. But don't beg. It's unbecoming."

Draco glanced under the covers at their bodies pressed together. "You sure, Potter?"

Harry moaned as Draco squirmed beneath him. "Draco, stop that. You're making it very-"

"Hard?"

"Difficult!" Harry pushed himself off of Draco and escaped out of the bed. "Now I need to take a nice cold bath and I suggest you do the same."

"Together?" he asked brightly.

"Now that won't work, will it? I'll wash first and then you. Maybe your owl has arrived."

"Can I scrub your back?" called Draco as Harry walked away from him into the bathroom.

"No!" And just to be sure, he locked the door.

* * *

Draco lay on his back while listening to the water run for Harry's bath. He heard the door lock but he could easily unlock it. Instead, he let his mind imagine Harry bathing. He felt an uncomfortable ache at that and decided that perhaps this wasn't the best thing to think about right now. Looking wistfully at the bathroom door, he got up, slipped on his discarded shorts, and made his way to the kitchen. He couldn't stop smiling. It was just one good thing after another, for a change. First his teaching job-potions master!-and then Harry. He couldn't be certain, but he thought he was in love with him. It was difficult to know since he'd never been in love before, but it certainly must feel like this. All he wanted to think about was Harry's lips, Harry's hands, Harry's-

It was too much to think about.

Nothing had ever gone so well for him before. Nothing good, anyway. Evil plots used to work well for him and he garnered a certain satisfaction in them, but never the feelings pulsing in his body like he was experiencing now. He sang to himself, dancing while he took down the tea things and put the kettle on.

Harry came in, a towel hanging over his wet head. "Are we happy this morning?"

Draco danced over to him and handed him a mug of tea. "Yes, sir. We are."

"What's that you're singing?"

"It's Muggle music. I got rather fond of it. It's called 'Motown'. Ever heard of it?"

Harry shrugged. "The Dursely's weren't into music much."

Draco sang to himself, "You can't hurry love, no, you just have to wait…" and began to fix breakfast. They both looked up as the fireplace whooshed with someone flooing. It was the Weasleys again.

Hermione and Ron looked around and smiled on seeing Harry-losing their smiles when their gaze alighted on Draco. Draco smiled broadly back at them and lifted his mug in salute. He leaned against the counter. He was still only wearing his shorts. "Not too much privacy here, Potter. Any old thing seems to drop by whenever."

"We can see that," said Hermione looking away. "Do you mind? Don't you have a dressing gown or something?"

"You're the ones that barged in. I live here."

"You live here?" cried Ron. "What happened to a little charity spend-the-one-night?"

"Well Weasley." He waggled his eyebrows at Harry. "Things change."

Harry gave him a warning glance. "Er…yeah. Draco's sort of a permanent houseguest now." Out of the side of his mouth he said to Draco, "So act like a host," adding a sharp elbow to his ribs.

"Ow! I mean, of course. Um…would you care for a cup of tea? The pot's on."

"No thank you," said Hermione, her nose up in the air.

"Why is Malfoy a 'permanent houseguest'?" asked Ron, glaring at Draco.

"Great news," said Harry, trying to change the subject. "You'll never guess who the new potions master is. Dumbledore just hired him yesterday."

Hermione perked. She always seemed to perk when it had to do with school. "Who? Slughorn?"

"Oh let me tell them!" said Draco.

Harry shrugged and retreated into the kitchen. He draped the towel over his shoulders.

Draco smiled from ear to ear. "It's me!"

Ron and Hermione stared vacantly. Draco thought it was precious. Then Hermione stirred. "It can't be you. Dumbledore would never-"

"He had me prepare fifteen potions, all N.E.W.T. or higher potions, mind, and I did them all in record time. Not one mistake. He told me I'd done them better than you."

Her mouth dropped opened, appalled.

"Offered me the job on the spot."

Hermione all but stomped her foot. "But you never even finished your seventh year!"

"Because he was too busy being Voldemort's favorite boy!" added Ron. He looked as if he were itching to grab his wand.

"Dumbledore said I will have private tutoring to make it up. I don't know what you're on about. You were Dumbledore's little moppets longer than I was. Don't you trust him?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco in warning, but Draco ignored it. This was too much fun; turning the tables on them.

"We trust him," said Ron, though the tone of his voice wasn't as sincere.

"Look," said Harry. "Draco really did a great job with those potions. You know he always did well-"

"That's because Snape always nursed him along," complained Ron.

"Or spent time with me because I was his best student." He eyed Hermione for emphasis. He loved to watch her squirm. "And anyway, it's the same sort of situation with Professor Snape, isn't it? No one trusted him either. No one believed he had reformed. It's the same with me."

"I don't much believe that myself," said Ron, but it was Harry who stepped forward this time and said very quietly, "We didn't believe it about Snape. And I certainly owe him my life. Or have you forgotten, Ron?"

Ron's puffed chest seemed to deflate. He looked abashedly at Hermione and Harry. "No, I haven't forgotten. But this is Malfoy!"

"Ron," Harry said wearily. He moved to the sofa and flopped down. "There's a reason Draco's living here now." He glanced at Draco. For his part, Draco retreated to the kitchen and poured himself more tea. Was Harry doing what he thought he was doing? Was this really the time? But it did give Draco a shiver that Harry might be about to go public with their relationship.

Ron postured. "So why is that?"

Harry looked over at Draco. Draco kept his mouth shut tight but stared back at Harry with smoldering eyes. Without taking his eyes off Draco, Harry said, "Because Draco's my boyfriend."

Yes! Draco longed to pump the air with his fist, but restrained himself. He glanced at the Weasleys neutrally from over the rim of his mug.

Hermione's gaze traveled across the room and settled on Draco, her mouth parted in surprise. Ron gaped openly. "Bloody hell! Harry, what's the matter with you?"

"There's nothing the 'matter' with me," he sighed. "You knew I had a thing for Draco for a long time now."

Draco leaned forward resting his elbows on the counter. "A 'thing'?"

Harry ignored him. "He's finally a human being now."

"Oh thanks, Potter!"

"You're welcome." He said it crisply and with as much meaning as he could convey with his eyes. He seemed to be saying 'keep out of it.' Draco took that advice and clammed up.

"You really going to trust him?"

"Ron, he's been here since the beginning of the month. If he wanted to kill me, he certainly could have done it far before this. I never believed I was in danger. Draco's a good guy now. Give him a chance."

But it was Hermione that spoke up. "I think that's asking a lot, Harry."

"Yes, it is. I don't think it's asking too much of my best friends, though. I've always relied on you to trust me."

"And we haven't always done so," she said.

"No, you haven't."

"Like in our sixth year when you warned us about Draco and we wouldn't believe you."

Oh touché, Granger. A very low blow.

Harry scowled. "That was then. This is now. Two years A.V. Everyone is different."

"Are you sure? Harry, how can we ever be sure?"

Harry snapped to his feet. "Because I love him!"

Draco startled back. He spilled his tea on the floor but his eyes were glued to Harry.

"And I just know." He lowered his face and didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. "I've got to get dressed. Was there something you wanted?"

"We…" She slid her glance to Draco. Draco was trying to look everywhere but at them. "We thought since this was the last week before school started, we'd take you out for the day to celebrate. But…if you have other plans…"

"Can Draco come too?"

Draco waved his hands. "No, I've got loads to do. You go on without me."

"Draco…"

"No really. You should spend the day with them…with your friends. I don't mind. Lots to do."

Harry glared at him, but Hermione sniffed and threw back her head and unruly mane of hair. "Of course Draco is invited…if he behaves himself."

He gave her a look. "What's the fun in that, Mud-" He bit down on the last and feigned a cough. "Mu-M-Mrs. Weasley?" he finished lamely. Harry smiled weakly. At least he could see Draco was trying. "I mean it, Harry," said Draco. "Just go on. I'll be fine."

"Well…if you're sure."

"I said I was. Go on. Get dressed. I'll see you back here later, okay?"

Harry walked up to him and cupped his face. Draco blushed deeply, darting his eyes toward the uncomfortable guests trying to look anywhere but at them. "That's really sweet of you," he whispered. He kissed Draco's lips, and though Draco was embarrassed by it in so public a forum, it still warmed his heart that Harry was unaffected enough by an audience to show his true feelings. And he said he loved him. Yelled it, in fact. That made Draco's heart leap with joy.

Harry retreated to the bedroom-their bedroom-to get dressed and now Draco felt a little underdressed himself. He slid behind the counter and tried to sip his tea nonchalantly. It seemed to take forever for Harry to emerge.

He waved to Harry as they flooed away, and as soon as they were gone, Draco ran to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up. He had some things to get in Diagon Alley and was anxious to exchange his pounds for galleons and sickles.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of The Leaky Cauldron, but this time he had on one of Harry's cloaks. He put the hood up, making sure his face was heavily shadowed, and went in. He wasted no time looking around. He headed straight for the back, lifted his wand, and tapped the bricks. Instantly the wall reformed into a gate and Draco walked through, inhaling the pungency of the street he'd been denied for so long. Home. He was finally home. He passed by several shops, thinking that he'd have to pick up a new broom when he got a chance, nothing as good as he had before, of course, but something serviceable. Definitely new robes. Time for wizard's clothes again, though he had taken a liking to some Muggle clothes.

But before anything, Gringott's.

Draco made a beeline to the Wizarding bank, walked through the doors, and marched up to the first Goblin clerk available. "I would like to exchange this Muggle money."

The Goblin lifted beady eyes to him and smiled a crenellated grin. "All of it…Master Malfoy?"

Draco flicked his gaze up to the goblin and looked around. "Keep it down, would you. No, not all of it. Leave off fifty pounds. Change all the rest."

"That leaves you with one hundred galleons, twenty-five sickles, and two newts."

Draco scraped them across the counter and dumped them in each of his pockets. He felt a little heavy with gold, but it also felt good. "Thanks."

First things first. He needed new robes. He was obliged to Harry but he hated to wear anything with a Gryffindor patch on it.

He headed toward Madam Malkins but then thought better of it. Too many people who might resent his being there. He'd go to Twilfitt and Tatting's. That was near Knockturn Alley and he needed to go there anyway for a few potion ingredients.

Twilfitt and Tatting's looked the same and Draco was struck with a strange sense of familiarity and of fear. No matter where he went now, he was Draco Malfoy: the Outsider. Either they'd hate him for what he did or fear to be associated with him. He looked at the sign, took a deep breath, and plunged in.

Not many in the shop this time of day, but it was the same place he remembered. He looked around for a bit until a salesman came out of the back. Draco recognized him. He thought his name was Grimsby.

"What can I do for you, young sir-" And then Draco turned around. The man lurched back as if struck and Draco took a step back himself in surprise. Grimsby put a hand to his heart and whispered, "Master Malfoy. Good grief. What are you doing here, sir?"

Draco clenched his hands. "I am here to buy some robes. I trust you still sell them."

"Ah…yes. Yes, sir. Of course, sir. It's just that-"

Draco's anger erupted. "My galleons are just as good as anyone else's!" But he did feel for the man and he calmed himself. "Look," he said quieter. "I really need these robes and I'd prefer not to go to Malkins. If you must, take me to the backroom and I'll try them on there. I need them to teach at Hogwarts this year. Please."

Too much information for Grimsby. First he had to process the fact that Draco would allow himself the indignity of fitting his robes in the backroom, and next there was the surprising news that he was actually a teacher at Hogwarts, and then he had used the word "please". Grimsby paused, reflected, jumbled his bushy brows a bit and then nodded to himself. "If you will come this way, sir."

Draco looked over his shoulder to see if anyone saw, and then he followed the man to the backroom.

"Master is teaching at Hogwarts? How…enterprising. Then you will need some scholarly robes. Dress robes, and everyday wear."

"Look Grimsby. I'm not made of money like I used to be, so how about a few-" Draco swallowed hard-"used robes."

Grimsby's astonishment momentarily outweighed his fear. "Used robes, sir? For a Malfoy?"

"Not the prestige the name used to have, I assure you."

"But you are teaching at Hogwarts, sir. Aren't you?"

Draco squinted at the doubt in the man's voice. "Appointed by Albus Dumbledore himself. Potions Master."

"Oh potions! Indeed, sir! Then special material is needed for those scholarly robes."

"I told you, Grimsby. We are on a budget."

"Oh sir! But Hogwarts has an account with us. I am certain arrangements can be made."

"Oh? Well, I don't want to overstep the line. First year, and all."

"No, sir, no sir. I wouldn't dream of letting you. I will make all the arrangements. I simply cannot allow a Malfoy to go about in used robes."

Draco smiled. "That's very kind of you, Grimsby."

The man looked at Draco quizzically. Clearly that was not the Malfoy reaction he was used to.

Grimsby measured Draco for all the robes he would need, and it all went well until he was helping him off and accidentally pushed up the sleeve of Draco's left arm. Grimsby froze, staring at the faded Dark Mark. Draco quickly shoved the sleeve down. "Sorry, Grimsby. My past does tend to crop up from time to time."

"Y-yes, sir." Grimsby's eyes darted from corner to corner, as if he expected spies to pop out of the woodwork.

"Could you please owl them to Hogwarts? Thanks. For everything."

Draco left, relieved to be out of the thick atmosphere. He stood in the street between the twilight of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. He still needed his potion ingredients but wondered if it was such a good idea his going into Knockturn Alley without a note from Dumbledore. Ah well. Must at least try, that's what Harry would say.

But no sooner had he turned down the dark lane, two Wizards Apparated beside him. They flashed him badges. They were Aurors. Draco's heart sank.

"Draco Malfoy," said the one called Smythe. "This is the one place the Ministry really doesn't want to see you go. And here you are."

"I wasn't forbidden to come here, Smythe."

Smythe recited as if he were reading it. "'Draco Malfoy, the Ministry strongly insists that you refrain from venturing, browsing, or otherwise engaging in business activities in the place called "Knockturn Alley".' That's close enough for me, mate."

"I'm not your mate," he scowled.

"Right in one," said the other called Hennessey. "Perhaps you should come with us, Mr. Malfoy."

"I'm on Hogwarts business!"

The Aurors stared at Draco and then both burst out laughing. "That's a good one," said Smythe. "A rare treat for us. A funny Death Eater."

"I'm not…" he lowered his voice, "a Death Eater. Not anymore. Why don't you find some real ones?"

"There aren't any real ones anymore, isn't that right, Malfoy?" said Hennessey. "Every time we come across them they say there aren't anymore."

"Look, I am on Hogwarts business. Why don't you check with Hogwarts? I'm the new potions master."

Hennessey guffawed but Smythe studied Draco intently. "He's pretty serious, Hen. Might as well check it out." He spoke into something that looked like a small amulet. Draco waited. He hoped there wouldn't be a snafu in communications. What if Dumbledore wasn't there? Did anyone else know about his appointment? His heart gave a lurch until he suddenly thought of Harry. Harry could vouch for him and they'd all believe him. Ron and Hermione also knew. It was good to have friends in high places.

Smythe listened into his magical device and began to frown deeper and deeper. He looked up at Draco as he listened and finally signed off. "Well. That's a switch. It appears Mr. Malfoy here is correct. He is here on Hogwarts business."

"He isn't really teaching is he?"

Smythe shrugged. "Yeah. That's what they said."

Draco pulled at his robes to straighten them. "If there is nothing else, gentlemen, I'd like to be on my way."

"Certainly Professor." And they bowed to him. Draco stepped forward but Smythe put his foot out and Draco tripped and staggered to steady himself.

The Aurors laughed. "Oh!" said Smythe in mock civility. "So sorry, Professor." Draco's hand was on his wand, and it took all his will to keep it in his pocket.

The pop of their Disapparation annoyed. He wondered how long it would take for the rest of the Wizarding world to leave him alone.

Draco knew the shop he needed and he hurried down the winding lane. The shadows lengthened, darkened. It's what made Knockturn Alley so appealing to its inhabitants. Draco often wondered if it were charmed that way to be more sinister than it was.

A shop to his left gave Draco a chill. He couldn't believe Borgin and Burkes was still in business. If the Aurors really wanted something useful to do they would take that place apart stick by stick. They'd find plenty there to keep them busy for years.

Finally, the shop he wanted came into view. Weede's Emporium. He ducked inside and looked around. There were a few patrons talking with Mr. Weede, and so Draco pretended to be absorbed in a book on potions called Brewing a Better You. When the patrons finally left, he tossed the book aside. He stepped to the counter and only raised his face slightly, hoping to remain anonymous. "Weede, I need boomslang and gillyweed. A pound of each."

Weede narrowed his eyes at Draco, trying to recognize the voice, but Draco refused to say anything else that might help the man. Weede had no choice but to comply, and he trudged away to get the ingredients. Draco stood with his head lowered. Weede took his time, making surreptitious glances back at Draco. "I also need Lowland Dragon scales. A few ounces worth."

Weede jabbed a finger at him. "Draco Malfoy!" he hissed, pleased with himself.

Draco slowly raised his head from the hood. The man's pleased expression suddenly froze. "That's right, Weede. Got anything to say?"

"Oh…oh no, sir. It's…it's just good to see you again. I didn't expect to…to see you…" His voice trailed off.

"Thought I was in Azkaban? No, Weede. It's worse than that. I'm at Hogwarts… teaching." Weede blinked. He didn't get it. Draco leaned in. "It's not a joke. I am a teacher at Hogwarts. That, and only that, is why I am here. So hurry it up."

Weede did so, though his hands began to shake horribly and he spilled most of the scales on the floor. Draco paid his money and snatched the bag from the man's hand and quickly left.

It was probably a good idea to get out of Knockturn Alley as quickly as possible. And just as that thought formed in Draco's mind, he saw a familiar dark figure ahead of him. Shit.

Minx Mercer. And he spotted Draco. Draco looked behind him. Couldn't make a run for it. He'd have to fight. He took out the school wand and glared at it. Probably not worth much in a fight. If he got out of this alive, he'd mention this to Harry as a possible Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson: "How to Fight with a Defective Wand".

Mercer was not alone. Two other dark shapes appeared next to him. Bloody hell. Slowly they approached and Draco stood his ground.

Minx Mercer smiled. "Master Malfoy!" He raised his arm in salute…his left arm. So did the others. "We'd hoped to find you here." None took out their wands and they all greeted Draco with deferential nods.

What the--?

"I realized when I left you that you were not free to talk to me openly on that Muggle street," said Mercer. "And that here-where you feel comfortable-would be more appropriate. I see your downfall hasn't prevented you from making your way to Knockturn Alley. I told these gentlemen that a Malfoy is never defeated."

Draco studied the goons beside Mercer. They, too, were big men, intimidating, but he didn't recognize them. New Death Eaters?

"Ah…right, Mercer. Down but not out. That's us Malfoys."

Mercer moved closer so that their words could be more intimate and secret. "I have met with the others," he said in low tones. "Yours is the name most prominent. Others will follow you." Even quieter, he said, "I have discovered a way to reanimate the Dark Mark at your call…my lord."

An icy chill ran up Draco's skin and he took a step back. He felt sick. "You…you must be insane."

"No, my lord. I assure you, we are quite in our right minds."

"Stop calling me that!" Draco darted a glance behind him. "I'm not your lord," he hissed.

"I know you must exercise caution, my lord. And you mustn't be seen with us. But we must know if the rumors are true. Are you a teacher now at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I am," he said proudly. "So I don't want to have anything more to do-"

"We know," said Mercer, sidling up along side Draco and laying a hand on his back, "that you cannot speak plainly to us-"

"Is this plain enough? SOD. OFF!" Draco spun away from Mercer's hand, and pushed passed them. He spared them a glance over his shoulder, but they made no move to follow. Good. Maybe they got the point this time. Lord Malfoy! What a joke. If only they knew how funny. Where were those Aurors when you needed them?

It worried him to see Mercer again. The first time was a coincidence, or so he thought. But twice? And he was a wanted man. What's he doing showing up in the daylight of Knockturn Alley?

Draco left Knockturn Alley with relief and stood on Diagon Alley assessing where next to go. Ollivander's was back in business and he looked down at the school wand still in his hand. He tucked it away and decided that if Dumbledore wanted to give him a school wand, then having one of his own would be all right. And if it weren't…well, he guessed he'd surrender it again. But he hoped he wouldn't have to. He craved his own wand. It had been as if he'd amputated a limb.

He looked in the window of Ollivander's and there were several Hogwarts students getting their wands. He hovered outside, waiting for the shop to empty, making sure his hood was up over his head. He turned his back to the door when they all filtered out, and when it was finally clear, Draco strode in.

Ollivander stood behind his counter polishing a cherry wood wand, his rheumy eyes concentrating fully on his task. Draco didn't know if he even noticed him enter until he lifted his face and deliberately turned it toward him. "Mr. Malfoy?" He seemed surprised but not overly so. And unlike so many other clerks Draco had encountered that day, there was no fear on his face. "And what would you be wanting here, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Well let's see," said Draco, raising his eyes to the shelves and shelves of wands. "I suppose I'd be looking for a wand."

"Indeed." But Ollivander did not move.

Draco's gut felt hollow suddenly. Was he going to have to leave this shop empty-handed? Would Ollivander believe him if he said Dumbledore gave permission-but did he? It was implied by his giving Draco a school wand, but could Dumbledore expect him to be a teacher without his own proper wand? It would be humiliating.

"I…ah…I'm teaching at Hogwarts this term. I don't know if you've heard." Ollivander eyed him but said nothing. "And…it seems appropriate that I have a new wand, as my old one was…well. Lost."

"I did get a Firecall from Dumbledore telling me to expect you."

Relief flooded Draco and he relaxed his taut shoulders. Yet still, Ollivander did nothing. Draco's first reaction was to get angry, but looking at the old man behind the counter and considering what he had gone through to work secretly for the Order, he felt again that wash of guilt that so permeated his life in the last two years. He lowered his face and closed his robes protectively around him. "If…you'd prefer not to sell me one, I can understand. Just tell me. And I'll go."

Ollivander's brows rose slightly. He cocked his head at Draco, measuring him. "Your old wand was of yew with a troll hair, if I am not mistaken. Lovely black stain on the wood. Carved handle. Let me see…" He retreated to his ladder and stepped up a few rungs, running his hand along the many dusty boxes of wands stored there. "Of course, it's different for an adult wizard who has owned a wand, you understand. The reactions are slightly different from a witch or wizard who test a wand for the first time. Adult wizards actually have little need for wands, but they grow lazy and are woefully undertrained. Of course, should I encourage that, I would be out of business and we wouldn't want that."

He grabbed a box, pulled it from the shelf, and climbed down. "Let's give this one a go, Mr. Malfoy." He handed it to Draco and Draco took it with a nod of thanks. He gave it a flick and though the box on the counter rumbled, Draco didn't feel it was right. He shook his head and handed it back.

"No?" Ollivander looked at it as if Draco was surely mistaken. At last he shrugged and put it back in its box. He strolled down the long aisle perpendicular to the counter tapping his lip as he thought. "Ah!" He pulled another and walked it back to Draco. "Try this."

Draco took it but it, too, felt all wrong. The magic within him barely stirred through the wand. Too weak. He handed it back. "Maybe I'm out of tune."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Malfoy." He took the wand, boxed it again, and then disappeared down another aisle. He was gone so long Draco thought of calling out to him. He was an old man. One day he might slip and be trapped under an avalanche of shelves and wands. But finally he appeared, carrying a small, crushed box. Draco winced at it. All that trouble to find some probably broken wand?

Ollivander treated the box reverently as he treated all his wands. He pulled off the crumpled lid and reached in with both hands though he only needed his fingers. "Mr. Malfoy. Try this one."

Draco closed his fingers on the polished brown wood and instantly felt a surge of power shoot through him. He felt stronger just holding it. "Well now!" He gave it a gentle flick and all the dust from the shop instantly vanished.

"We have a fit. And I thank you for doing the dusting…Professor Malfoy." He peered at the wand in Draco's hand and nodded. "Very interesting. Very interesting. Do you realize that this is nothing like your former wand? I thought at first that I needed something similar, but I decided to experiment. This is olive wood, eleven and three quarters inches long, with a tail hair from a griffin."

"Why are you calling me 'Professor' all of a sudden?"

"Because, Professor, you walked in a Malfoy and for all I knew you were the same man that was censured by the Wizengamot. But the wand tells me otherwise. Highly unusual that anyone from Slytherin house would be able to use a wand with a griffin hair. In fact, in all my years of selling wands, only those from Gryffindor have successfully used such wands. But you have experienced great changes, Professor. Profound changes. The wand knows. I trust my wands, sir."

Draco didn't know what to say to that. It was a little shocking, in fact, that his wand should seemingly know so much about him. His wand. The wand chooses the wizard, Ollivander had always said. Draco looked at it. The swirls of the grain seemed to create an intricate design on the tapered wood. The handle was carved just so that it fit comfortably in his hand and the balance was right there at the top of the turned base, nearly half way up the wand. It was really quite beautiful and Draco was very pleased. He smiled and took out his money. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I find that I am constantly surprised by…well, by everything I am encountering now. It's as if I lived the first half of my life through a veil. And now I see things more clearly."

Ollivander smiled and nodded. "Well put, Professor. I do hope that you have a very good day."

"Thank you." He gave Ollivander a slight bow, before he turned to leave. Diagon Alley was turning out to be quite an unusual experience today.

* * *

Harry felt badly at first just leaving Draco like that. He knew Draco was making him leave with his friends because he didn't want to get between them, and it was uncomfortable at first with Ron and Hermione, but soon they fell into their normal routine and just enjoyed each other's company. It wasn't until later in the day when they were enjoying some tea at a Wizard tea shop that Harry grew thoughtful again. Ron and Hermione were smiling at one another and chatting, used to one another as husband and wife. Harry was glad of it. The three of them shared some intimate times together; danger, joy, sorrow. He had told them secrets about himself he couldn't tell anyone else; he told them about the prophecy that meant he alone would have to kill Voldemort; he told them about the Horcruxes and they banded with him, forsaking their own comfort and safety to make the perilous journey to find and destroy them. They knew all these things about one another, but when it came to a discussion about their own feelings and personal lives, they couldn't quite gather the strength to do it. Harry had known Ron and Hermione were in love with each other before they did themselves, but no one ever mustered the courage to say anything.

Harry took a deep breath and when Ron and Hermione stopped speaking, he cut in. "I think it's about time we have this out."

"Have what out, Harry?" said Hermione.

"This thing about me and Draco."

"Oh that," said Ron scornfully. "Maybe it's just a phase."

"No, you see that's just it. It isn't a phase or anything like that. When I had that 'thing' for Draco all those years ago-" and Ron squirmed at his saying it- "I knew it wouldn't have worked out. Not then. I mean, he was good-looking and all, but there was nothing behind it."

"Except evil," Ron interjected.

"Exactly. It was probably a little of the bad boy thing, you know, that attracted me. Draco could be so bad and I was so good. Opposites attracting." He took a sip of tea and doodled on the tablecloth with is finger. "But it's different now. When I ran into him, he was a broken man. I mean, he was a real mess. I could tell he was different and not just because he was forced to be. He saw a different side of things. He saw things he never expected to find. He was finally someone I could love. And I do. So it would really help if my best friends and my boyfriend could get along. You've got to give him a chance. Do you really think if he was up to no good Dumbledore would take a risk and give him the potions job?"

Hermione sighed. "No, Harry, I don't. Of course you're right. It isn't fair to you if we treat him badly-"

"More importantly, it isn't fair to him, Hermione. He really is different, but he feels he's got to be Big Bad Malfoy in front of you lot because it's the only way he knows how to protect himself."

Ron was silent. Harry turned to him. "Ron, I know this is hard, but could you please try. I think you'll really like him once you get to know him." Ron winced at that but Harry urged him on. "Please, Ron? Besides, you're going to be seeing a lot of him whether you say 'yes' or not. He's part of my life now."

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said, shaking his head. "You really l-love him?"

"Yeah, Ron. I really do. And he loves me, I think."

Hermione smiled and covered Harry's hand with hers. "Of course we'll welcome Draco. How about the two of you come to dinner next weekend? You could tell us how your first week went."

"Uh…yeah. We'd...uh…love to have the two of you," said Ron, smiling awkwardly.

Harry gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Okay. Sounds good. Thanks." He lifted his cup and gazed out the window. Across the way a familiar hulking figure stood staring at the tea shop. Harry dropped the cup, lurched out of his chair, and ran to the door, but when he got to the doorway there was no one there.

Ron and Hermione were at his side, wands out. Harry tucked his away. "What is it, Harry?"

He felt a sense of pride and friendship with them. Like old times, they were at his side without question. Why couldn't it be that way with everything? "I thought I saw…Minx Mercer, of all people."

"Can't be," said Ron. "He's in Azkaban."

"Yeah. Sure looked like him, though." He scanned the street, but nothing seemed out of place. There was only the dim glow of the street lamp as the day darkened, and mild streaks of color from the sky reflected on the wet pavement.

* * *

Draco returned from Diagon Alley well before Harry arrived. When Harry finally flooed in as evening fell, the blond offered to make dinner and Harry agreed.

Draco fussed in the kitchen, shooting glances at Harry sitting in the lounge on the green wing back. This is just a little awkward, he thought, wondering a bit how familiar they were allowed to be. When the Weasleys arrived this morning they had been very familiar with one another. But now, there seemed to be some distance between them. He wanted to kiss Harry, wanted to do it the moment he flooed in, but now he wasn't certain exactly how to proceed. Harry had called Draco his boyfriend and declared that he loved him right in front of Ron and Hermione, but where was that relationship now?

Harry's head dipped into the book on his lap and he was absently waving his finger in lieu of his wand, trying to get the spells right. Draco's heart warmed watching him. Harry. Everything had suddenly changed. Draco needed to switch gears and learn how to teach and then he had to readjust his thinking when confronting his new sexuality. Strangely, the latter seemed easier. Probably due to Harry. He was normally so easy to be with, so confident. Why oh why had he been so mean to Harry over the years? Even hated him. And now, he couldn't imagine feeling that way about Harry.

Draco stopped waving his wand over the supper things and lowered it in thought. Love? Was he really in love with Harry? A smile stole across his face. Even thinking about it warmed his chest. He supposed he really did. "Bloody amazing," he whispered.

"Sorry?" Harry looked up from his book. Draco knew he couldn't have said anything very loudly especially over the clank of dishes arranging themselves on the counter. Draco smiled. Sure he was studying that charm book.

"Nothing," he answered. "Dinner's ready."

"Oh good. I'm starved!"

They moved to the counter and sat opposite one another. Draco poured wine into Harry's glass and the Gryffindor raised his brows. "I hope you don't mind that I stocked a few bottles. Pumpkin juice is all right for breakfast, but wine is more conducive for conversation at dinner, don't you think?"

Harry lifted his glass. "I bow to your expertise." He took a sip, nodded in approval, and glanced at Draco over the rim of his glass. Draco shivered under that smoldering look.

They both ate in silence. After a while, Draco merely pushed the food around on his plate. What was going on here? Everything had seemed so unconcerned this morning. Now Harry seemed so pensive. Was it something those Weasleys said to him?

Draco suddenly wasn't interested in food. His mind kept flitting to the incredible sensations and flavours of last night; of Harry's kisses, his talented fingers tracing lengths down his body, the feel of him pounding into Draco. Draco's breath hitched and he raised his head, watching Harry eat, intent on his plate. "Are you thinking about what I'm thinking about?" he asked, disconcerted at the shakiness of his own voice.

Harry's head snapped up, eyes wide. He laid his fork down. "Um…I don't know. I'm thinking about…bed."

Draco swallowed. "Yeah." He dropped his knife and fork and stood up. Harry, rounded eyes never leaving Draco, stood as well and waited for the Slytherin to reach him around the counter. When he did, Harry lifted his hands to cup Draco's face and pulled him forward in a soul-searing kiss. Draco's arms swept around Harry naturally and he yanked himself against his lover while opening his mouth to receive Harry's warm tongue. The kiss threw his heart into a frenzied tattoo and he clutched at Harry as if his life depended on it. With his lips latched on, wild sensations fluttered over his body. He had never felt anything as startlingly amazing as this. To feel Harry's warm hands holding his face, his lips sliding joyfully on his, his tongue slowly exploring his mouth, was all far beyond his experience to verbalize it.

Suddenly, Harry released his mouth and grabbed him into an embrace. His cheek caressed Draco's and his breath was at his ear, his lean body pressing him tightly.

"I'm so hard," Draco gasped, realizing with a sudden warm flush that he never meant to say it aloud.

But when Harry answered with his own breathy, "Me, too," Draco felt a weight lift from him. He nuzzled Harry's cheek and took soft bites at his ear lobe. "I want you," he said into that pink shell.

Harry shivered. "Let's go to the bedroom," he breathed against Draco's cheek.

That seemed like an incredibly good idea. Draco kept one arm around Harry's waist and walked with him into the bedroom and once they stood at the bed, Harry reached up and unbuttoned Draco's shirt. It took a few moments of stunned observation-and a kiss or two to his neck-before Draco awakened enough to lift his unsteady hands to the other's shirt.

Harry had gotten Draco's untucked and was just drawing it off his shoulders when Draco opened the first buttons of the Gryffindor's shirt. It stopped Harry cold and he merely watched the deft fingers of his lover. Draco gazed into Harry's green eyes and realized how Harry must have dreamed of a moment like this for too many years to count. Draco would have smiled but passion overwhelmed his senses. Still watching Harry's penetrating gaze, he leaned slowly forward, opened the shirt collar, and planted his lips softly at the pulse of his throat. Harry dropped his head back with a groan, exposing more of his neck. Draco took the offer and licked and nibbled before kissing the soft flesh from his jaw down to his collar bone, and all the while he unbuttoned and dragged the material out of the waistband of his trousers and pushed it open. He raised his head to kiss Harry's mouth, spreading his hands across the sensitive flesh of his ribcage. Harry shivered again and moaned into Draco's mouth when Draco pressed the hot skin of his chest against Harry's exposed flesh. They kissed and held tightly to one another. Draco felt hands descend to his bum and give both cheeks a squeeze.

They slowly drew apart and by some unspoken signal began to unbuckle their own belts and furiously work at the buttons and zip of their trousers.

Soon, trousers, pants, socks, and shoes pooled around them. Harry looked down at Draco's aching groin and Draco got an equal eyeful of Harry's straining erection. Fingers reached for Draco's shoulders. His body shuddered in throbbing anticipation of body to body contact. He didn't expect Harry to jut his hips forward so their erections slid flesh on flesh.

"Oh!" cried Draco. Did Harry know, did he imagine what Draco was feeling at this moment? Draco clutched him desperately, allowing Harry to slowly rub his naked body against him. Draco swallowed. "Take me to bed," he croaked.

Harry grabbed Draco's hand and while he crawled up onto the bed he tugged Draco after him.

Draco didn't know how to ask for what he wanted but reckoned he'd better try to get used to it. "Harry, do you…do you want to…you know. Do it to me?"

Harry's eyes glittered. It seemed he understood perfectly well. "Aren't you sore?"

"Not so much, really. It's okay. I…I want it."

Harry smiled indulgently and leaned in for a kiss. "I'd love to." Draco blushed. "Do you want to lie down on your stomach or…?"

"I want to see you," came the surprising reply. Draco hadn't known he was going to say it until it came out of his mouth. Now he realized how very much he wanted that.

Harry nodded, his face flushed with passion.

Draco lay back. He grabbed the other pillow and self-consciously stuffed it under his lower back. Then he opened his thighs wide and lifted his legs high, rolling his spine to offer himself to Harry.

Harry froze and stared. If it weren't impolite, Draco was certain he'd be drooling.

Fingers traced the goose-fleshed skin of Draco's arse. Draco drew in his breath and held it. Harry leaned over him to deliver another kiss, pulling a moan from the Slytherin's lips. But Harry didn't stop there. Searing lips made a trail down Draco's neck to his chest and made a stop at a nipple. Draco recalled from last night how sensitive they were to Harry's ministrations and so did Harry, and soon teeth, lips, and tongue were pricking both nipples to hard nubs. Unbelievably, Draco's erection firmed even more. He was gasping by the time Harry's lips reached his belly. Through slitted eyes Draco noticed Harry clutching tightly his own erection, either to prolong the ache or delay an early release. Draco surmised it was the latter since the head was a deep purple and the shaft a dark red.

Kisses to his stomach became sharp licks to his hard organ and Draco bucked his hips. His whole body suddenly felt so tender.

"Oh Harry, you're driving me mad!"

He thought he heard Harry growl, "Payback." Payback? For all those years Draco had been woefully ignorant of Harry's feelings toward him? While they both exchanged insults and hexes, Harry had been smoldering. Yes, this was payback indeed. Draco feared he'd go up like a cinder if Harry didn't hurry up and payback already. And just as Draco thought this, Harry mouthed his bollocks. "Gah!" Draco sputtered and writhed. He was unbelievably hard and thought he would explode from the pressure.

Harry sat up and reached for the jar of lube he'd left on the side table last night. He reached into the jar and scooped out a sticky handful.

Suddenly, an oily hand ran down Draco's cleft and swabbed his twitching entrance. Fingers grabbed his bollocks in a slick but short embrace until a ring of fingers fastened on his shaft. "Ah!" Draco gasped. Harry chuckled. Then he felt Harry's hardness press against his puckered flesh.

"Relax, Draco." The raven-haired man's voice purred above him. "When you take me in, bear down to accept it. It will go in easier."

He nodded, eyes closed. Then he remembered he had wanted to look at Harry as he entered him and he opened his eyes again, fastening his gaze on the man about to shag him.

Harry was looking right at him, his slickened hands holding on to Draco's hips. Draco remembered Harry's instructions just as his rock hard cock pushed and opened him. He bore down, taking it in inch by agonizing inch. It burned almost worse than the first time, but as the slickened organ pushed inward, the spongy flesh of his arse took it in more easily. It felt so full but suddenly so-o-o good. "Oh yes," he breathed, partly with relief and partly with how wonderful it felt.

Harry slowly moved, easing his cock in and out. He hadn't touched Draco's prostate yet, but it didn't seem to matter to the blond. The feel of Harry breaching him, the feeling of fullness and hardness, was almost more than he could bear. By the look of Harry's eyes, he was enjoying it too.

"So tight," Harry managed to say between breaths and moans. "So good."

"Yes!" said Draco.

Then Harry changed angles.

Draco's pleasure centre awakened, and as much as he wanted to watch Harry above him, his eyes had other plans and rolled back in his head.

Fingers wrapped around Draco's cock mashed between their hot bodies and gave it several long, hard strokes.

"Oh! Oh…"

"Yes," said Harry.

And suddenly Draco was seeing stars. Between the pounding his prostate was getting and the pumping his cock received, he soon lost all control. Sensation welled up, squeezing his gut and he came explosively in Harry's hand and on his own stomach. That's all it took for Harry and he yelled, furiously thrusting into the Slytherin and spurting his juices until there was nothing left but a few left-over dry thrusts.

He held Draco's hips for several long moments, head thrown back, glasses askew, until Draco watched as his shoulders drooped and he slowly pulled out of him, flopping down beside him. Draco's numb legs dropped to the sheets and he rolled to the side to face Harry.

Green eyes blinked at him. They shared their panting breaths over lips close enough to kiss. Draco tried a smile. "That's what I wanted the moment you got home."

Harry smiled wide. "Home. This is your home, Draco. Everything I have is yours. Including my body. If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask."

"It seemed so easy this morning. Did something change this afternoon? Did the Weasleys…say anything to you?"

Harry shook his head. Draco reached beneath him to retrieve the pillow and gave it to Harry. Harry situated his head again, tucking one arm under it. "They didn't say anything. As a matter of fact, I told them you were in my life now and they'd damn well better get used to it."

That made Draco smile. "You did?"

"Yes. Course, they're really the only ones that know. That I'm…you know… 'out' to."

"Well don't worry. I'm not going to say anything." But he was very glad Harry stood up to them. If he was willing to face off with his best friends, he certainly meant everything he said and did. "So I'm really your…boyfriend?" He couldn't help blushing.

Harry raised a finger to his warm cheek. "Yeah. And I'm yours. We're a couple. At least, as far as Ron and Hermione-and of course we-are concerned."

"That's fine with me." Draco edged forward and nibbled Harry's lips before pressing harder into a lingering kiss.

Harry sighed. "Mmmm. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

"I have a pretty good idea. And I promise, Harry, I will do my best to make up for it. For every nasty thing I ever said to you-" He kissed his nose. "For every hex I ever sent your way-" He kissed his cheek. "For every dirty trick I ever played-" He kissed his mouth, giving it an extra lick before pulling away. "I will pay you back a thousandfold."

Harry smiled sleepily. "I'm going to enjoy collecting on my debt."


On to Chapter Ten
"The Welcoming Feast"

Back to Chapter Eight
"Wizard's Chess"

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