"Again, Harry!" Dumbledore was shouting but he couldn't be if this was in Harry's head. Or was it? Exhausted, Harry slumped to the floor.

He opened his eyes, and Dumbledore was crouching, looking at him. "All right there, Harry?"

"Yes, Albus. I'm all right. It's just that last time was pretty powerful."

"But you managed it anyway."

"Managed it? I'm on the floor."

Yes, but you haven't hexed me, and that is an improvement."

Dumbledore helped him up from the floor of his Defense class. "In fact, Harry, you seem to have a remarkable resiliency for fending off Dark Magic and resisting its pull. I don't wonder now how you survived Voldemort all that time. Your strength of will is unheard of."

"Oh Albus. Flattery will get you anywhere."

"It's not flattery, Harry. In these past few weeks I have been convinced of your abilities to keep the Dark at bay. And I trust you to teach as much to Draco."

"Draco?"

"Remember, he, too will have your powers, though I doubt you will ever be equals. You will always possess a little bit more."

"I thought that the purpose of the joining spells were to equal out the magic."

"It can't do a perfect job. And natural abilities will out."

"So are you saying my training is over?"

"No, I am saying my teaching is done. You have a lifetime ahead of you at training yourself."

"Oh thanks. That's good to know."

"Don't get discouraged, Harry. There is help all around. Just reach out to the love."

"Sounds like a slogan."

"Yes. I often thought if I had been a Muggle I would have enjoyed being an advertising executive."

Harry squinted at him. "Nope. I don't see it. You would still have been a professor. Probably philosophy."

He smiled, eyes twinkling. "You think so?"

"Yes. You've got all these great aphorisms. I can see the students following you around like Aristotle."

Dumbledore chuckled. Harry knew he was picturing it, too.

Harry swiped at his trousers, getting the dust off. "So I guess there is a wedding in two weeks. You are officiating, right?"

"Indeed I am."

"Any last minute advice?"

"I have always heard that one is never to go to bed angry."

"Okay. Makes sense."

"Be forgiving, be loving, be understanding."

Harry smiled. "Sounds good."

"And take time for yourselves on a wonderful honeymoon."

"Honeymoon?" Uh oh.

"But not too long, of course. The term begins promptly on September the first."

* * *

Harry settled down in bed with Draco and teased the ends of the blonde's fringe. "So Draco. Any ideas on where you might like to take a honeymoon?"

"You forgot about it, didn't you?"

"I…might have. I've had a lot on my mind."

"Don't worry. I took care of it."

"You did?"

"Yes. Me and my new friend Hermione. Did you know I am now the favorite Gryffindor girlfriend?"

"Sorry?"

"Yes. Draco Malfoy, feared far and wide as one of Voldemort's ruthless Death Eaters is now reduced to 'girlfriend' status, fulfilling my role in the gay Wizarding world."

Harry burst out laughing.

"Of course. Laugh at my expense."

"I'm sorry," he said and squeezed him. "So where are we going?"

"Well Hermione suggested an expedition to Hungary to see dragons, but I nixed a Baltic honeymoon as too drab. So I suggested something on the Mediterranean and I was accused of aiming 'too gay'. After much argument we then both agreed on an excursion through Province. That's in France, by the way."

"I know where it is."

"Well? Does it meet with Monsieur's approval?"

"Oui."

"Oh, how continental, Potter. I mean Harry. We will dine elegantly and drink fine wine. We will see country sights and mingle with the natives."

"I take it you've been there before."

"Many times but not in so many years. I think you'll like it."

"Will there be big beds?"

Draco slid his gaze toward Harry. "Certainly."

"Then I will like it."

* * *

Harry celebrated his twenty-first birthday at the Burrow and for the first time, Draco went with him.

Draco stepped from the floo and tried to keep the appalled look off his face as he looked around the Weasley house. It was all that was wrong with wizardry, at least in Draco's eyes. This jumble of styles and color. At least Muggles had that over many wizards. Of course the house was a poor one, or as Harry might say, a humble one. But it looked poor to Draco.

A sea of ginger heads and he couldn't distinguish one from the other. He fought the urge to cling to Harry and tried to move off on his own when a ginger-haired girl popped up next to him. "Hi, shopping buddy."

"Oh. Hello, Ginny."

"Feeling a bit lost, are we?"

"No. I am merely wondering if I want to drink this punch or not."

"It's good. Mum made it and anything she makes is great. I'd stay away from those biscuits, though. I made those, I'm afraid."

"They look good."

"They look good, yes. Anyway, what do you think?"

"Of what?" He took a sip of the punch and raised his brows. It was good.

"Of the Weasley clan, of course."

"I must confess, I can't tell one from the other."

"All right. I'll give you the quick tour. That tall one is my Dad, Arthur-"

"I know that."

"And next to him in the jumper is Mum," she went on, ignoring him. "That over there is Bill and his wife Fleur."

"Is that Fleur de la Cour?"

"Fleur Weasley now. Since four years ago. You missed a lot, you know." Draco glanced at Bill Weasley. He looked like he'd gotten into a fight with a manitcore.

"What happened to him?" he whispered.

Ginny's face darkened. "He was attacked by Greyback at Hogwarts."

Draco's heart sank. He lowered the punch to the table. "I shouldn't be here," he said quietly.

He felt Ginny's hand squeeze his arm. "It's all right Draco. Lot of water under the bridge. Harry does a lot to build those bridges. If it wasn't for your love of him no one would have wanted you here."

"I still don't belong."

"Yes you do. You see, Harry is an honorary Weasley, so I suppose that will make you one by marriage."

Draco thought about that and wasn't certain if it was a good thing. He wisely kept silent. "Who's that?" he asked, changing the subject.

"That's Charlie and his girlfriend. And of course you know Ron…there are the twins whom you also surely know from Quidditch."

"How can I forget? Isn't there another one?"

"Percy. We…we don't see much of him."

"Sorry. Didn't know it was a sore subject."

She shrugged.

"Is that Remus Lupin? Is he also an honorary Weasley?"

She giggled. "Nearly."

Then Draco caught sight of Tonks on his arm and he automatically lurched back. Aurors made him nervous even if they were friends and he was no longer a Death Eater. It might be worth it at that to have the Dark Mark removed just so he could rub it in their faces.

Lupin caught sight of him and steered Tonks in his direction though Draco could tell she was arguing with him about it.

Draco took a deep breath and turned to face them. Ginny had slipped away to greet Hermione.

"Hello, Draco," said Lupin.

"Professor," he said cordially.

"I was only a professor for one year. That hardly qualifies me to keep the title."

"Likewise. I hope, on the other hand, that I shall be allowed to keep said title."

"I'm certain you shall. I heard good things about your potions classes."

Draco flicked a glance at Tonks who was doing a good job of trying to ignore him. Her hair kept changing colour from pink to green to blue and back to pink again.

"Yes. Even Metamorphmagus Death Eaters enjoyed it. Isn't that right…Nymphadora?"

Tonks spared him a glance. "It's Tonks. Don't blame it on Aurors if you attract Dark things, Malfoy. You're the one who was the Death Eater."

"Oh thanks. I'd nearly forgotten."

"Now you two," cautioned Lupin. He frowned at her. "We need to be civil for Harry's sake."

"What the hell does Harry see in you anyway?" asked Tonks.

Draco smirked. "I'm great in bed." He nodded to a chuckling Lupin and swept away with the look of horror on Tonk's face etched merrily in his mind.

Draco headed toward the garden and solitude when Hermione waylaid him. She took his arm as she was fond of doing now. "Do you think you can manage to look a little more sour, Draco?"

"Why Hermione. This is my 'happy face'."

"You'd better get used to this lot. They are all going to be at the wedding and pretty much in your life from now on."

"I know. I'm to be an honorary Weasley by proxy or something."

"Don't look so sour about it," she laughed. "It's not a bad thing."

"I guess I just never realized that in taking up with Harry I'd be taking up with half the Wizarding world."

"Well face it. You have. Everyone loves Harry. I don't think he has any idea how many friends he's really got. And they're not all human, either."

Draco looked at her askance. What was she referring to? Centaurs? Giants? Goblins? He shuddered. Never mind Harry, what was Draco getting himself into?

Ron popped up seemingly out of nowhere. "Hi, mate. Keeping Hermione's arm warm?"

When did Ron start calling Draco 'mate'? "You can have it back any time, Weasley."

"Don't mind him," Hermione said to Ron. "He's just a bit squeamish at all the Weasleys and such. I think he's getting Gryffindor overload."

"Well I know the cure for that." He extricated Hermione's arm and took Draco's instead. Draco stared down at it. "There is another party going on near the outhouse."

Oh joy. I am about to learn the Weasley intricacies of a potting shed.

Ron escorted Draco into the garden and around the corner. The summer evening was still warm, even after the sun was near setting. The breeze, filled with the scent of flowers and new mown grass, caressed Draco's cheek and he suddenly thought of Malfoy Manor with a pang of regret. He remembered garden parties there, some that went on too late for six-year-old Draco, but he had snuck downstairs anyway to watch the people in their sparkling robes, to listen to the music, to smell the honeysuckle on the summer breeze. His mother laughing. His father talking furtively with the wizards in his deep voice, cocking a brow over that aristocratic nose. How he missed them. Would they have come to this wedding?

They came to the outhouse where there was a table set up with firewhiskey and butterbeers. Now we're talking. Fred and George acted as bartenders and Charlie was talking to Harry.

"Here he is," said Ron to Harry and he released Draco.

"Thought you got lost," said Harry. He'd obviously had his share of firewhiskey. Draco thought he'd better catch up.

"No, just hanging out with the girls. Tonks sends her love."

Harry eyed him. "You didn't get into it, did you?"

"That depends what you mean." He took a glass from Fred…or George. Bugger. He didn't care, and knocked it back.

Harry slipped his arm around him. "Everything okay?" he whispered.

"Peachy. I'm getting to know my honorary family."

Harry snickered. "Did they say-?"

"Ginny did."

"Oh that's right!" said Fred…or George. "Precious Draco here is going to become an honorary Weasley and as such he must be initiated."

"Right little brother!" answered George…or Fred. "I've just the thing to initiate Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh God." Draco grabbed another glass of firewhiskey and downed it just in time before he was dragged away. The last he saw of Harry he was looking after Draco sorrowfully but also trying not to laugh.

* * *

Harry and Draco flooed back to the London flat sometime in the early hours of the morning. Draco's "initiation" involved a hex, a tail, floppy ears, and the pond, and he wasn't in a good mood when he tucked an inebriated Harry into bed. He himself couldn't go to sleep and he ended up sitting on the green wing chair until the sun rose, thinking.

These new experiences were a bit overwhelming. Draco wondered if he was really prepared for it. And-he had to be honest with himself-if he really wanted it.

Sure he wanted Harry, but he didn't realize all that that entailed. But if you loved someone, didn't you have to make compromises? Of course, the compromises all seemed a little one-sided in this instance. Harry didn't have to compromise. Draco didn't bring anyone but himself to the mix. There was no getting used to his Slytherin friends, no getting used to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Of course, they didn't like Harry and had tried to kill him on more than one occasion. "Details, details." But they might have tried to make him feel at home for Draco's sake. At least he'd like to think they would have done.

The fireplace whooshed and someone walked out of it. "Weasley," said Draco. "Harry's not up yet."

"I didn't come to see him," said Ron. "I came to take you to breakfast."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I had the feeling you were a bit snowed under by everything. Let's get some grub and chat."

"What about Harry?"

"Leave a note."

Draco walked with Ron to a small Muggle shop a few blocks away where Ron ordered a hearty breakfast and Draco ordered an omelet. "Keep eating like that, Weasley, and you'll be as fat as Umbridge."

"You've got your nerve mentioning her. She made Harry's life a living hell. And you with your snooping didn't help."

Draco sipped his tea. "You know you can bring up the past all you want but it still won't change. Live in today, Weasley."

"Yeah."

"Which brings us to why you're here treating me to this-" He looked around. "This fine establishment."

Ron slurped his tea. "It's just that I thought you might be having cold feet about now."

"And why would you think that?"

"Because it was after I met Hermione's family before the wedding that I felt that way myself. So? Tell me you don't."

"I don't." He sipped again and then set the mug down. "Well all right. Maybe a little. It's just that he knows so many people. And all of them wanted to hunt me down and kill me at one time."

"Who didn't?" Ron grinned at Draco's sneer. "You'll just have to get used to it."

"Now there's good advice. I feel so much better now." He drank his tea and looked anxiously toward the kitchens where the waitress would bring their meal so this would be over.

"Malfoy, though it pains me to say it, you really make Harry happy. There's no accounting for taste, I guess. And if you don't want everyone to kill you, you had better show up to that wedding."

"What a delightfully encouraging statement. I cannot fail to be relieved by its sincerity."

"We've all got to make this work. A little give and take is in order."

"But that's just it. It's all give on my part. Harry doesn't have to deal with my family. They're all dead." There was a finality to that statement that somehow fell harshly on his ear and caused a lump in his throat. He swallowed more tea and looked out the window.

Ron seemed to sense this for once and said nothing. The waitress brought their food and they ate silently for a time until Ron ventured, "Look, Malfoy. I'm sorry about your folks, but we all know what happened and why. This is a new beginning. We're all trying. If it's too much for you, just tell him. That's what Hermione is always telling me. Talk about your feelings. It's not easy for a bloke but maybe it is if you're a…you know."

"Almost a girl?"

"Well, you know. Aren't you blokes more in touch with your feelings like girls?"

"This may come as a surprise to you, Weasley, but I don't know the first thing about being gay. Except buggering. I'm pretty good with that."

Ron squinched up his face and gestured with his hands. "Keep it down, would you! Blimey, Malfoy! I'm eating here!"

Draco picked at his omelet. He really wasn't hungry. "How can I tell him what I'm feeling if I don't know myself?" Ron looked up. Draco snatched glances but didn't really want to look in Ron's eyes. "Everything is so new," he went on in the same quiet tone. "It's like…I don't want to share Harry but he already belongs to all these people. People I don't belong to. I don't belong to anyone but him. When I was living like a Muggle I didn't feel as alone as I do now."

Ron squirmed. Apparently he wasn't prepared for a real discussion. Draco almost bailed him out by shrugging it off, but he couldn't. He had to talk to someone about it.

Ron straightened his shoulders, taking new bearings. "Well I see your point. But really, you aren't alone anymore. You've got us. Me and Hermione. After a while, I don't think it will seem so strange. We'll all get used to each other. Blimey, we've only just made friends a year ago when we've been mortal enemies all our lives."

Draco smiled a little. "I suppose. It's all a matter of time, is it?"

"Yeah." Ron leaned forward. "Give it some time. We've all barely had a chance to catch our breath, it seems. It's three years A.V. That's not enough time to digest it all."

Draco looked at his untouched plate. "I…met your brother last night. Bill."

Ron's hand whitened over his fork and he ducked his head into his food again. "Oh?" he asked noncommittally.

"I…I told him who I was. You know. What I did. I told him I was sorry. Fleur wouldn't talk to me. But Bill and I had a long talk."

Ron looked up. His fork was poised in his hand, a rasher of bacon hanging limply from it. "What…what did he say?"

Draco licked his dry lips. "He said he'd do about anything for Harry. He said if Harry was willing to forgive me, he could, too. I told him he shouldn't."

"What did he say to that?"

"Called me a git."

"Ha! Knows you better than you think."

Draco had been on the verge of tears. Everywhere he turned there were people he had hurt terribly. But Ron's assessment stated so plainly and without malice cut through his self recriminations and he suddenly laughed. He laughed till he did cry and Ron was forced to lean over and pat him delicately on the back, eyes darting to the other wondering patrons. Draco wiped his eyes on the serviette and waved Ron away. "I'm all right now." He looked at his pale face and freckles. How he used to hate Ron Weasley mostly because of those freckles. The Weasleys were Purebloods so there was little to complain about except their obsession with Muggles. So it was easy to blame them for their poverty because of that interest. But Ron really had a quite friendly face. A working-man's face, true, but a friendly one. And this had been a really fine gesture for him. Draco offered a genuine smile. "Thanks, Ron. This was really nice of you. I appreciate it."

Ron looked surprised, as if he didn't expect Draco to thank him. "You're welcome, Draco. So…wedding a go?"

He nodded. "The wedding is a go."


On to Chapter Elenen
"A Simple Affair"

Back to Chapter Nine
"Rethinking"

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