.:::::.

"Harry, no!" Ron shouted above the roar of the fire. "They're not worth it!"

The Room of Requirement was being consumed, the detritus of centuries of Hogwarts students fueling the massive flames. A fiery dragon raised its head and snapped at Harry with jagged white-hot teeth, and he managed to turn the bulky broom just in time.

He'd heard the scream from… there. He could see Malfoy now, standing atop a large stack of furniture, having apparently dragged the unconscious Goyle up the summit with him. Flames shaped like many-headed serpents were striking around their feet, and the look of terror on Malfoy's face was like nothing Harry had ever seen before.

He flew in a tight arc toward them and Malfoy lifted his arm. Harry reached for it, but both their hands were slick with sweat and with Goyle's added bulk there was no way Harry could lift them. He reached for the hawthorn wand tucked into his sock, but then Ron was next to him, glaring daggers at Harry. He and Hermione reached down and tugged Goyle up onto the broom between them.

"I fucking swear, Harry, if we die for them--" The rest of Ron's words were cut off by the roar of the rising flames and Harry had to rise three feet to get out of the way. Ron steered the broom toward the door and disappeared from view.

"Take my hand!" Harry shouted down to Malfoy. Malfoy reached up and Harry pulled, but Malfoy slipped from his grasp again, this time falling hard on the stack of furniture which began to collapse under the strain of the fire. "Malfoy!" Harry shouted and dove after him again.

"Potter!" Malfoy was slipping down, trying desperately to get his footing.

The straws of the broom were beginning to smoke, flames were licking at his heels, and Harry could barely breathe. The heat was overwhelming, but he couldn't leave Malfoy here to die, not like this. He found an opening in the flames and dove through it, and managed to grab hold of Malfoy's hand once more.

There was no time to do anything but fly away. Harry gripped Malfoy's hand as tightly as he could and flew toward the doorway, gritting his teeth against the strain in his arm and the heat and smoke. He could barely see and had only a vague idea of where the door was, but he leaned forward on the broom and hoped he wasn't about to crash into the wall.

And then it happened -- Malfoy's hand slipped through his fingers and there was nothing he could do. It happened in slow motion, and then Malfoy was out of his reach, falling toward the flames. His expression was one of pure terror; his mouth was open in a scream Harry couldn't hear over his own cry of "NOOOOO!!!"

And then he was gone. Harry dove down, but was met by flames. The fire closed in quickly and he barely made it through the door. He crashed into the wall on the other side and pushed to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she ran to him. "Oh God, Malfoy… Harry, I'm sorry."

"Me too," he replied. He wiped his eyes and clambered to his feet. There was no time to think about it now. The battle was far from over.

.:::::.

[TEN YEARS LATER]

Harry Potter stretched his arms over his head and yawned. It was only half-eight, but he was eyeing his bed already. He flicked his wand at the large pile of rolled parchments on his desk and they sorted themselves into two piles, marked and unmarked. The unmarked pile was still far larger than it ought to be, considering the amount of time he'd sat there pretending to work.

Why he'd assigned the fifth-years three feet on shield charms was beyond him. Perhaps he could just pretend he'd lost them or that they were accidentally destroyed in a freak research-related magical accident. If he gave them all good marks just for completing the work, they wouldn't mind. Much.

He contemplated his bed once again. The thick duvet was still pushed to the side from the morning; it would be so easy to slip out of his clothes and into that warm comfort. He pushed the tray that had held his dinner to the side of his desk and yawned again, and with a pop the tray disappeared.

Bed, then. He pulled his shirt over his head and sat on the bed, but just as he was unfastening his trousers there was a knock at the door of his room. He groaned and pulled the shirt back on.

"Yes?" he called through the door. It had better not be that Ravenclaw prefect again. She was abusing her rights to come into the faculty tower.

"Harry, it's me." He opened the door to see Neville Longbottom standing in the corridor and panting as if he'd run all the way up the stairs. His face was pale and before Harry could open his mouth to ask what was wrong he blurted, "You've got to come to the infirmary right now."

Harry grabbed his shoes and his wand and rushed after him.

Neville didn't speak until they reached the entrance of the door of the infirmary, at which point he stopped and put one hand on Harry's shoulder. "I have to warn you, this is going to be a shock. None of us has any idea how it happened or where he came from."

"Who?" Harry's heart was pounding, and not entirely from the jog through the castle.

Neville looked as if he was steeling himself. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry stared at him, sure he'd misunderstood. "That's not possible. Malfoy's dead."

"I know. But an hour ago he suddenly materialized in the Room of Requirement. Scared the shit out of a couple of sixth-years who were making out in there at the time. They ran out screaming, and he burst into the Great Hall in the middle of dinner, shouting about the Dark Lord and--"

"Wait," Harry said, his head spinning now. "Are you telling me that Draco Malfoy just popped into existence tonight? Alive?"

"And that's not all." Neville opened the door and waved him inside.

He led him down through the rows of beds to where a small group of faculty and staff were gathered, talking in hushed tones. The crowd parted as they drew closer, all of them watching Harry as if his reaction was going to be of importance. In the corner of the room a figure huddled on a bed, blankets clutched to his chin.

"Fucking hell," Harry whispered as he drew closer. It was indeed Draco Malfoy, and he looked just as Harry remembered him. In fact, he hadn't aged a day. He was seventeen years old and his hair was singed, and he was staring up at Harry with an expression of disbelief on his pale face.

"And who the hell are you?" he spat, his voice shaking.

Harry's knees felt like they might give way, so he sat on the edge of the bed, unable to stop staring. He'd had so many nightmares about Malfoy's death, had been haunted by the image of his face as he slipped through Harry's fingers and down into the flames. It was one of the deaths he'd thought he could never forgive himself for -- and now here Malfoy was, very much alive. It was all Harry could do not to pull him into a hug.

"It's me, Harry." He reached up and pushed his hair from his forehead and Malfoy's eyes went right to his scar.

Malfoy stared back at him suspiciously, his eyes narrowed. "This is some sort of trick. You've taken an aging potion, or--"

"All of us?" Neville asked, gesturing to the others in the room, all of whom had known Malfoy: Headmistress McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, Penelope Clearwater, Alice Tolipan.

Malfoy tried to get off the bed, but couldn't -- apparently a binding charm was in place. "I don't understand what's happening or why you're all here when the Dark Lord is--"

"Dead," Harry interjected. "Voldemort died ten years ago. The war is over, has been over for a long time. And you… you fell from my broom into the Fiendfyre. We thought you were dead."

Malfoy wrapped his arms around himself, shaking. "No, I… I asked the Room to change for me, to take me somewhere else, anywhere else." His eyes darted from one person to another, as if looking for anything familiar. "I fell straight through the fire. It was gone by the time I hit the floor. And then I ran out and I..." He stopped.

Harry frowned. "You're saying this just happened?"

"Oh god, Crabbe," Malfoy whispered, his eyes widening in horror. "And Goyle. Did he--"

"Goyle is fine," Neville said. "We'll owl him in the morning. He can come visit you."

"What about my parents? They're here, in the castle."

Harry and Neville exchanged a glance.

"He doesn't understand," Madame Pomfrey said, pushing past them both to hand Malfoy a vial of potion. "Drink this, dear. It will help you rest."

Harry expected Malfoy to refuse, but he didn't. He took the vial almost gratefully and swallowed the contents in one go.

Madame Pomfrey leaned into Harry and lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. "He doesn't understand that he's traveled ahead ten years. He thinks it's still that night, the Battle of Hogwarts."

Harry turned to look at Malfoy again, but he'd settled back into the bed, his eyes closed. The potion worked quickly. Perhaps he thought it was all a bad dream, that it would disappear by morning.

"It's not amnesia, is it?" Neville whispered. "Look at him. He's really come from that night, hasn't he?"

Harry swallowed. "Is that even possible?"

"Do you have a better explanation?"

.:::::.

"We had to restrain him," Madame Pomfrey said as she poured herself a cup of tea the following afternoon. "And it wasn't easy, even though he had no wand. He was so distraught that he was doing wandless magic without even trying. He did a fair amount of damage to that end of the infirmary."

Harry sank into a chair across from her desk and sighed. "It had to be a horrible shock to see Goyle ten years older."

"Ten unkind years, I might add." She winked at him. "And of course, Mr. Goyle was the one to tell him what happened to his parents. I daresay it was the thing that made reality sink in for poor Draco."

"I can't imagine how difficult this must be for him. How long will he be at St. Mungo's, do you think?"

"I've no idea." She stirred a lump of sugar into her tea and looked up at him, her expression thoughtful. "You ought to go visit him."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Have you gone round the bend, Poppy? He hates me. There'll be another incident."

"Oh, I don't know about that." She smiled and brought her cup to her lips for a sip. "I spent some time talking to him while we were waiting for the transport team from St. Mungo's. He asked me about you."

"Did he? What did he want to know?"

"He wanted to know about the end of the war, mostly. How you managed to put an end to You-Know-Who. I lent him my copy of A History of Harry to take with him."

"Mmm, good choice," Harry said, stretching his arms over his head. "That's my favorite of the lot. It's the most accurate, anyway."

"He did seem genuinely curious, though. He has no one, no family. Well, none that can help him through this, at any rate. If you were to reach out to him--"

"He'd likely bite my hand off." At her resigned sigh and shake of the head, he added, "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check in on him in a week or two."

"And do tell him I'd like my book back. You autographed it for me. It's quite valuable."

Harry grinned.

.:::::.

It was several weeks before Harry managed to free up an afternoon and apparate to St. Mungo's.

The receptionist smiled fondly at him when he stepped up to her desk. "Here to see Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Ah, no. Her son, actually."

She nodded and pressed a button behind her desk. "Just a moment. I'll have to clear it with his Healer."

Two minutes later a middle-aged wizard in green robes came out to meet him. "Mr. Potter, it's such an honor, I can't tell you. I'm Healer Garrison, at your service."

Harry forced himself to smile; even after ten years, being fawned over still made him uncomfortable. "I don't have an appointment. I hope it's all right for me to pop in and visit Draco Malfoy?"

"Of course, of course," Healer Garrison said, gesturing Harry through the doorway into the main corridor of the ward. "This way. I must admit I'm surprised to see you. But then, you and Mr. Malfoy -- well, everyone knows how your stories intertwined during the war, now don't they?"

"How is he?"

"He's doing remarkably well, considering. He had to be heavily sedated for the first few days, but now he seems to have accepted what happened to him. He's been reading quite a lot. Says he has ten years to make up for."

Harry nodded, mildly impressed. He hadn't been sure what to expect. "Has he had many visitors?"

Garrison paused at a door and gave Harry a small, sad smile. "No, Mr. Potter. You're the first."

Harry frowned. They'd contacted several people they thought might have known Malfoy well, and none of them had come?

Garrison knocked twice and then opened the door. "You have a visitor."

Malfoy was curled up in a chair by the window holding a book, and looking so young that it took Harry's breath away. Had he himself looked that young when he'd finally defeated Voldemort?

Malfoy looked up, and when he saw Harry his eyes widened almost comically before narrowing again. A hard expression set his face and Harry sighed. At least that part was familiar.

Harry put on his best teacher face and gestured to an uncomfortable-looking chair pushed into the corner. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Suit yourself," Malfoy replied. He watched as Harry pulled the chair closer and settled into it.

"I'll just leave you two to catch up," said Garrison, smiling as he closed the door behind him.

Silence stretched between them for a moment.

"How are you?" Harry asked at last.

Malfoy's expression was stony. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you might appreciate a visitor."

"How charitable of you." He tucked the book he'd been holding down between his thigh and the chair, but not before Harry saw the title on the bind.

"That one's all right. The author got some of the details wrong and seemed a little overly interested in my love life, but otherwise it's not bad."

Malfoy's cheeks tinted, though his tone remained icy. "So the world still revolves around you ten years later. Colour me shocked."

"You're mentioned in there, aren't you?" Harry tilted his head. "Did it surprise you?"

"To learn that besting me enabled you to defeat the Dark Lord? I'm always the foil, aren't I? Even in death."

But there he sat before Harry, very much alive -- snarky and pointy and bitter and jealous. Harry had to resist the urge to hug him again. "You haven't changed a bit."

"You have. You look old."

"A bit older than I should, I suppose. The war was rough on all of us." He didn't think he looked that old, though there were lines around his eyes that hadn't been there ten years ago, certainly.

"Why are you so happy to see me? You hate me."

"I don't hate you. Maybe I did once, but that was a lifetime ago. So much has changed. The world has changed. I think you'll be surprised."

Malfoy looked away, visibly irritated at Harry's cheerful demeanor. It was a teacher trick Harry had picked up along the way. Never let them see you ruffled.

"How much longer will you be in hospital?"

Malfoy shrugged. "No idea. A week, a month. I think they want to make sure I'm not going to go out and start killing Muggleborns the moment they release me."

"You should come back to Hogwarts." Harry wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but now that it was out of his mouth it wasn't half-bad.

Malfoy turned to stare at him. "Are you mad? Why would I ever want to go back to that place again?"

"I looked at your records. You were preparing for half a dozen NEWTs. If you come back now you might be able to pick up where you left off and finish your education. It would give you some time to get settled before you have to figure out what to do with your life. Make some new friends, that sort of thing."

Malfoy laughed, and the sound was hollow. "I take it back. You haven't changed. You're just as fucking naïve as ever, Potter."

Harry had to bite his tongue to suppress his instinct to reprimand a student for language. "I prefer optimistic. Think about it, Malfoy."

Malfoy shrugged and looked out the window. They were silent for a moment.

"Have you seen your mother yet?"

Malfoy's face crumpled before he schooled his features into a cool mask of indifference again. "They won't let me."

"Why not?"

"They don't think I can handle it. They think I'll regress, or blow things up again."

"What do you think?"

Malfoy turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I think they're full of shit, obviously. She's my mother. I don't care if she's as loony as the Longbottoms -- she's the only family I have left."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't patronize me, Potter."

Harry sat back in his chair. "I can talk to them, if you like."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I don't need you to do me any favors."

Harry barely resisted rolling his eyes. "Who says it'd be a favor to you?"

He stood and left the room, feeling Malfoy's eyes on him all the way to the door. He returned five minutes later, having managed to convince Healer Garrison to let him take Malfoy three floors up to the permanent ward.

"Let's go see your Mother," he said, holding the door open. Malfoy's expression was one of pure shock, but he leapt to his feet.

"I'm still not certain this is a good idea," Garrison muttered as Harry steered a pale-faced Malfoy towards the lifts.

"It'll be fine," Harry replied, keeping one hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Malfoy said nothing, thankfully.

The three of them stepped into a lift and rode in silence. The doors opened to reveal the pale green walls and soft lights of the permanent ward. Harry felt Malfoy's shoulder tense beneath his hand and he gave him a reassuring squeeze. Malfoy shrugged his hand off and walked out of the lift.

Garrison talked quietly with the nurse on shift for a moment before she nodded and led them down the corridor past dozens of doors, none of which bore any markings. She stopped before the last one on the left and knocked, waited a moment, and then opened the door.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you have visitors. Should I let them in?"

Harry turned to Malfoy, and paused at the expression on his face. It was one of near-terror and reminded him sharply of his face in the Room of Requirement all those years ago. Or weeks ago, from Malfoy's perspective. Harry patted Malfoy lightly on the shoulder, earning him a glare.

"Please," the nurse said, opening the door wide.

Narcissa was standing by the room's single small window, her long silver-blond hair streaming past her shoulders. She was wearing a white dressing gown, and with the soft light of the afternoon sun behind her almost appeared ethereal. Malfoy seemed frozen to the spot. After a moment, Harry cleared his throat and gave him a little push.

Malfoy took two steps into the room and stopped. "Mother?" His voice wavered.

Harry pulled the door closed, garnering a sharp glance from Garrison. The nurse gave him a reassuring nod, though, and the three of them made their way back down the corridor.

The nurse grasped Harry's hand and squeezed it. "This will mean so much to her, Harry. It will do wonders, I expect." She hurried ahead of them at that, heading back to her station where a witch was waiting with a large bouquet of flowers.

Garrison cleared his throat roughly. "I'll wait here until he's ready to go. I do hope you were right about this, Mr. Potter."

"I'm sure you'll let me know if I wasn't." He clapped Garrison on the shoulder and headed back to the lift.

.:::::.

"He's coming to Hogwarts?" Harry blinked at McGonagall in astonishment.

"You needn't look so surprised, Mr. Potter. He said you were the one who suggested it."

"Yes, but I had the impression he wouldn't even consider it."

"Well, you must have been convincing, because he'll be here on Sunday. We're having to do some reorganizing to find him a place to sleep on such short notice, but we'll manage." She inclined her head towards the door of the Transfigurations classroom and gave Harry a tight smile. "Was there anything else?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm just surprised he's being released so soon. I saw him a little over a week ago and the Healers were less than optimistic."

"Then he must have made great progress in the days since your visit." She gave him a curt nod before heading into the classroom. A few straggling NEWT-level Transfiguration students hurried in after her, many of them familiar from Harry's NEWT-level Defense class. He didn't know how she found the time to teach even a single lesson in addition to her duties as Headmistress -- he'd wondered on more than one occasion if she was using a Time Turner.

He had an hour before his next lesson began, so he headed to the greenhouses. Neville was just starting a group of third-years planting tarticulumina bulbs; once they were all working he wound his way through the rows of plants towards Harry.

"Did you hear about Malfoy?" Harry asked him when he was within earshot.

Neville nodded. "McGonagall told me. It's going to be strange having him here as a student, isn't it?"

Harry heaved a sigh. "It's going to be utterly bizarre. I hope he's ready."

"It's not him I'm worried about, to be honest. Is he taking Defense?"

"I assume so. He was working towards a NEWT ten years ago."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Could I borrow your invisibility cloak? I'd love to sit in the back of the room and watch that."

Harry snorted. "It's going to be fine, Neville. He might still be 17, but I'm not."

"But still, you have to admit that Malfoy got under your skin like no one else ever did. Are you going to be able to forget everything that happened ten years ago and think of him as just another student?"

"That was the plan," Harry said, watching a nearby Gryffindor girl struggling to wrestle a tarticulumina bulb into a waiting pot. Its roots were winding their way up her forearms in protest. "You don't think I can do it?"

Neville chuckled. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

.:::::.

Malfoy's arrival at Hogwarts was kept relatively quiet. Most of the students were aware that something odd had happened the night Malfoy reappeared at the beginning of term, but they seemed to have forgotten about it quickly. Only the faculty of Hogwarts and a handful of Healers at St. Mungo's knew that Draco Malfoy, presumed dead in the Battle of Hogwarts, had somehow been flung forward in time.

"Shouldn't he at least attend under another surname?" Penelope Clearwater had asked at the Friday afternoon staff meeting. "Once the students work out who he is and where he's come from--"

"Mr. Malfoy is of age," McGonagall had said, "and he and I have discussed the potential consequences at length. He insisted upon using a family name, Abraxas, with the students."

Penelope had sniffed at this. "When the press gets wind of it -- and you know they will eventually -- it's going to cause a huge disruption for the school."

"As if that's never happened before," Harry had said quietly, and several people had chuckled.

Malfoy was to be treated as any other seventh year student, McGonagall had gone on to tell them. If he needed extra help to catch up to his peers, his teachers were to provide it to the same extent they would any other NEWT-level student, regardless of their past differences with Malfoy. Her gaze had lingered on Harry as she said this, making his cheeks tinge.

Why did everyone think he and Malfoy were going to pick up right where they'd left off, sniping at and hexing each other at every opportunity? That was a decade ago, and it may as well be a lifetime ago. The circumstances were utterly different now -- everyone had moved on since the war. And Harry had grown up, even if Malfoy hadn't. And furthermore, he'd spent the last five years of his life dealing with surly teenagers. He was ready for this.

Except that he wasn't. When Malfoy walked into the Defense classroom on Tuesday afternoon, Slytherin robes swirling around him and his pointy face already schooled into a sneer, Harry found himself transported back in time.

Malfoy chose a seat in the back corner of the classroom, as far from Harry as he could possibly get. For the first half hour, Harry had the entire class discussing the finer nuances of disillusionment charms and he didn't have to interact with Malfoy at all. Malfoy didn't participate in the discussion and Harry didn't push him. Malfoy sat quietly and seemed to be taking notes, and only looked up occasionally. By the time the practical part of the lesson began, Harry had pulled himself together.

"I'll be pairing you up to disillusion yourselves in turn and I want you to pay careful attention to your partner's technique and the results. Critique them as best you can and be sure you refer to the list of properties of disillusioning that we just discussed. With our new student we have an even number, happily, so let's have you and you--"

He began pairing students off and each pair immediately found a spot along the sides of the classroom to begin work. He paired Malfoy with a Ravenclaw named Flora Whitehall who was both outgoing and patient, and hoped for the best. He soon lost himself in working with the pairs: adjusting a wand angle here, emphasizing the importance of concentration on blending into the background there, and hoping to hell the vast majority of them had no interest in joining the Auror corps, because honestly.

At last he'd made his way the all around the room, save for one pair. He hung back and watched Malfoy with Flora for a minute. She was doing rather well at disillusioning herself, not that Harry was surprised. Flora was one of the most talented witches in the seventh year. Malfoy, however, was struggling. He was able to make his right side transparent, but the left remained in full view. He was pointedly ignoring Harry, and Harry wondered if his presence was making it worse.

"That's good, Flora, just keep working at it," he said. "Mr. Malfoy, try it again." He couldn't bring himself to say Abraxas, somehow.

Malfoy flushed as his eyes flicked to Harry's and away again. He rolled his wand -- a brand new one, Harry noticed -- between his fingers and seemed to take a deep breath, and cast the charm again. The result was the same.

"I see your difficulty," Harry said, crossing to stand right in front of him. "You've got to angle your wand more like this." He wrapped his hand around Malfoy's and tilted his wand slightly higher, towards his sternum. "It's not quite your heart you're aiming for because--"

Malfoy jerked away, his lips pressed into a thin line, and took several steps back, glowering. Harry's mouth fell open, as did Flora's. The students in that corner of the room grew quiet and turned to stare, all clearly surprised.

Malfoy flushed and crossed his arms over his chest, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. "Sorry, Potter."

"Professor," Harry said, willing his voice to remain even. Malfoy looked back up at him, his eyes narrow, and Harry forced a tight smile. "You will refer to me as 'Professor', Mr. Malfoy."

With that he moved on to the next group, hoping to hell he didn't look as tense as he felt. From the looks on the faces of the students around him, he was certain Malfoy was glaring daggers at his back.

Harry had to force himself to concentrate for the remainder of the lesson. Every time he glanced to where Malfoy sat, all he saw was the top of his blond head as he scribbled furiously on the parchment on his desk.

"Two feet summarizing our discussion by next Tuesday, and please practice disillusioning yourselves before the next lesson. There might be something of a competition on Thursday, with a lovely reward for the winner."

The students all grinned at this -- all except Malfoy, who was examining his fingernails as if they were far more interesting than anything Harry had to say.

"Oh, and those of you who volunteered to run Dueling Club this term please plan to meet at the Gryffindor table before dinner tonight. That's all for now." The students began to gather their things, and Harry saw Malfoy stand and dart toward the exit. "Mr. Malfoy," he said, just loud enough to be heard over the chatter and rustling of parchments. The students quieted instantly, many giving each other looks of amusement. "A word, please."

Malfoy turned around and walked back towards the front of the classroom, clearly annoyed. He ignored the pointed looks of the students who filed past him, many of whom whispered to each other and shook their heads as they left the room. He stopped before Harry, shifted his rucksack on his shoulder, and looked up.

"Yes, Professor?" His grey eyes were defiant, not that Harry expected any less. He was also taller than Harry, which was a bit disconcerting.

Harry leaned back against a nearby desk. "We seem to have got off to a rough start."

"Have we?"

"I realize the situation is difficult, but my job is to help you."

"I don't need your help."

"If you plan to take a NEWT in Defense Against the Dark Arts, then yes, you do." Malfoy opened his mouth as if to argue and Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand. "What is expected of NEWT-level students now is far beyond what was expected ten years ago. I rewrote the curriculum myself to include new spells that were developed during and after the war. You're going to find very quickly that you're in over your head and that you need my help. If you don't think you can work with me on this, you'd best reconsider your career options."

Malfoy shifted his gaze to the Hogwarts insignia on Harry's robe. "Fine. Is that all?"

Harry wanted to strangle him for a brief moment. "Yes, that's all."

Malfoy whirled and left the room without another word. Once the door was closed behind him, Harry pounded a fist into the desk.

.:::::.

"For the twelfth time, Neville, you were right." Harry leaned back in the chair and gratefully accepted the uncapped bottle Neville was holding out to him. "It's only been two weeks and I already want to hex him."

Neville plucked a second bottle from the icebox by his desk and opened it with a tap of his wand. "So I've heard."

Harry groaned. "Don't tell me--"

"It was all they wanted to talk about at Brew Club this afternoon. How Professor Potter and the new student from Durmstrang were at each other's throats."

"He told them he came from Durmstrang? I suppose it fits." Harry took a sip of ale and nodded appreciatively. "Oh, this is good. Is it a Club batch?"

"From Christmas. They got to try it this afternoon after we finished bottling the current batch. It's rather nice, isn't it?"

Neville's interest in ale brewing had blossomed into a full-blown operation in Greenhouse 7, with proceeds benefitting Hogwarts' scholarship fund. His course The Herbology of Brewing and the weekly Saturday Brew Club were incredibly popular with the students. Membership in the Brew Club was second only to Harry's Dueling Club, and he suspected it would easily surpass it if Neville hadn't restricted membership to fifth-years and older.

"So what else are they saying?"

"They're mostly outraged that he's being so rude to you, since you're, you know, you. A few said they'd never thought you capable of looking cross at all until Malfoy showed up."

Harry winced. "And here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it."

"Has he been disruptive or is it just the fact that he's Malfoy?"

"Both." Harry took a long drink from the bottle. "It wouldn't be so bad if he was doing it to everyone else, but I've asked his other teachers and he's being perfectly polite to them. It's just me."

Neville pursed his lips. "Harry, you know I think you're an amazing teacher, but is it possible that you're provoking him, just a bit?"

Harry bit his lip and considered for a moment. "I'd be lying if I said I treated him the way I'd treat any other student. Every time he sneers at me, it brings back memories, none of them good. Maybe I am provoking him, a bit."

"Do you want me to come and watch a lesson? I can get one of the seventh years to teach my first-year lesson on Tuesday and--"

"Thanks, but not yet. It's only been two weeks, after all. I'm sure it'll sort itself out."

The office door opened and a leggy brunette in a short skirt made her way over to Neville's desk. She grinned at him and tugged the bottle from his hand and took a sip from it.

"Hiya, Harry," she said as Neville leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Hi, Hannah. How's Gringott's?"

"Slow this time of year." She slid an arm around Neville and leaned into him. "It's good to get away for the weekend, actually."

"You two should go somewhere other than Hogwarts on your time off," Harry said with a smirk. "The students think you're having sex in the greenhouses all weekend long."

"Who says we aren't?" Neville replied with a grin. Hannah giggled.

"Charity Parker and her little gang of Slytherin girls are apparently determined to get photographic evidence, so I'd be careful if I were you."

Neville and Hannah exchanged a glance, still grinning at each other. Harry sighed. He'd felt that way, once. Maybe. He wasn't sure now.

"Speaking of bed, I think I'll go find mine. Thanks for the ale. Nice to see you, Hannah."

They went through the motions of begging him to stay and talk, but it was clear their hearts weren't in it. It was Friday night and they hadn't seen each other in weeks, and Harry was sure the clothing would start to come off the moment he closed the door behind him.

He made his way back to the faculty tower through quiet corridors -- it was past curfew for the students. He found himself wondering what Malfoy was doing on a Saturday night. Holding court in the Slytherin common room, most likely. Harry scoffed at the idea.

Come back to Hogwarts, Malfoy. Really, what had he been thinking?

.:::::.

On Tuesday morning, Harry woke up late. He took a quick shower, gulped down the cup of tea that had appeared on his desk as it did every morning -- with just the right amount of sugar mixed in, bless those house elves -- and threw on his robes over jeans and a t-shirt, the only clean clothes he could find. He opened the door and was promptly attacked by several dozen small red heart-shaped envelopes.

Valentine's Day -- he'd forgotten. He plucked them out of the air one by one, opening them as quickly as he could. He'd learned the hard way his first year on the faculty that these valentines, a Weasley product, were not to be ignored. As he opened each and briefly glanced at the note, a shimmering heart floated up from the paper and took residence in the air above his head.

Five minutes later, there was a large pile of crumpled red paper at his feet and a swarm of pink, red, and purple shimmering hearts floating above him. There were 67 in all, most from students, a few from other faculty members, and a handful that had been sent anonymously. He banished the paper with a flick of his wand and dashed to his classroom, already late for the second-years' lesson.

The students giggled at him when he walked in and he grinned. The hearts had become a Valentine's Day tradition at Hogwarts in the years after the war, and being given a large number was a status symbol of sorts. Harry had been flattered in the first few years, but now he just found them a bit embarrassing. He'd once begged George for a counter-spell to get rid of them, but George had just laughed him off, saying it was only for a day and that he should buck up and be a good sport.

Everyone had hearts swimming overhead today, which made the practical part of the lesson more entertaining than usual. Whenever the giver of one of the valentines was nearby, the floating heart made a tinkling sound, like a tiny bell. Of course, this meant that as Harry moved around the classroom there was a din of tinkling.

The second years were learning about polypots this week: small biting creatures that were fairly easily subdued with the proper spell. The polypots seemed so dazzled by the shimmering and tinkling hearts over their attackers' heads that they didn't put up much of a fight, and Harry finally resigned himself to having to repeat the practical another time.

The NEWT class was his last of the day, and it was as tense as always. Malfoy was typically rude and avoided any form of participation, having apparently figured out that Harry's teaching style was centered on getting the students to be as active as possible and that this would be the best way to annoy him. This had been his favorite class only a few short weeks ago, but Malfoy had changed that.

Harry set the students to working on remote shielding charms and walked among them, but it soon became clear that everyone was having difficulty concentrating with all the tinkling of hearts going on, so Harry stopped them and gathered them all in a circle.

"We'll work on those again next time, when it's quieter." They giggled at this, as Harry's hearts had been the loudest of all. "For now, let's do something that should be fairly easy for you, something from fourth year -- patronus charms. Who wants to go first?"

The students grinned eagerly and many raised their hands to volunteer. Harry called on them one by one, and they all laughed and cheered for each other. Several of the students had mastered the spell to make the patronus speak and more than one silvery image told an off-colour joke that had everyone roaring with laughter.

Or nearly everyone. Harry caught a glimpse of Malfoy's face when they were halfway around the room: he looked pale and withdrawn, almost frightened. He had positioned himself to go last, Harry noticed.

Finally it was Malfoy's turn and everyone looked at him expectantly. He stared down at his wand, his face tense.

"Abraxas," Harry said at last. "It's down to you."

"No thanks," he replied, looking up. The class went stone silent.

"Sorry?" Harry couldn't remember a single instance in five years of teaching when a student had refused to participate in a practical.

"You heard me. No thanks." He raised his chin defiantly.

Harry paused. Backing Malfoy into a corner would accomplish nothing, but there was something more going on here. "Malfoy--"

"I don't want to cast a fucking patronus, all right?" Malfoy glared at him, as if daring him to ask again.

The students burst into whispers, their eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Malfoy.

Harry clenched his jaw. This couldn't go on, not another minute. "Class dismissed," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Malfoy's. "Except for you, Mr. Malfoy. We're going to have a little talk."

They continued to glare at each other as the class filed out. Harry knew the gossip would be flying around the school in ten minutes, but at the moment he didn't care. He was going to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.

At last the door closed and they were alone.

"My office," Harry said, his voice automatically taking on an authoritative tone. He nodded toward the stairs behind him. "Now."

He waited for Malfoy to gather his things and start climbing the stairs before he moved from the spot. He had to reach back into his Auror training for some calming techniques, lest he hex Malfoy before this was over.

He's a teenager, he reminded himself as he climbed the stairs. You are an adult and he is a teenager. An obnoxious, irritating shit of a teenager.

Malfoy sat in a chair across from Harry's desk, looking as defiant as ever. Harry sat behind his desk and let the silence string out between them for a moment.

"Well?" he said at last.

"Wednesday night is good for me," Malfoy said, almost airily. "Well, any night, really, but--"

"What are you talking about?"

"Detention, of course. It's the least I deserve, isn't it?"

Harry gaped at him. "I've never given detention to a seventh year student in the five years I've been on the faculty here."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "No time like the present, then."

"The only reason for anyone to be sitting this particular course is to prepare for a NEWT. It's a select group, Malfoy, a select group of witches and wizards who are legally of age and therefore considered adults. Adults who take their studies very seriously. It's painfully clear you don't belong among them."

Harry had expected more defiance, but instead saw a flicker of something like panic on Malfoy's face. "I do take this seriously!"

"That's complete shit and you know it." It felt oddly good to swear at a student. "You've done nothing to show me you have the slightest interest in learning."

"I'm interested, Potter! Why else would I sit in a class with you if I weren't desperate to get this NEWT?"

"I haven't a clue, Malfoy. But I'm done. I want you out of my class. You can get your damned NEWT by correspondence for all I care."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just give me a damn detention and let it go!"

It was on the tip of Harry's tongue to tell him to get out, but something about Malfoy's face made him pause. He looked as if he was trying very hard to remain aloof, but then, for just a second, he almost looked terrified.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You want me to give you detention? Is that what this is all about?"

Malfoy pressed his lips into a firm line and looked away. Harry exhaled and sat back in his chair. Why would Malfoy, who gave none of his other teachers any trouble, want Harry to give him detention? It made no sense. Malfoy reached up to run a hand through his hair, and Harry realized there were no hearts floating above his head.

No one had sent him a valentine, no one at all, and that was unusual. The valentine hearts were very cheap at one knut apiece, and many students sent them to everyone in their house, just for fun. It was hard to believe that not a single Slytherin student had included Malfoy in this tradition, even though he'd only been there for a couple of weeks.

He was lonely, Harry realized with a stab of guilt. He was so lonely that spending detention with Harry Potter was preferable to spending another evening alone.

"Fine," Harry said at last, his anger gone now. "You will report here at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow night and for the next four Wednesdays thereafter. You owe me one detention for each lesson in which you were an obnoxious twat."

Malfoy nodded and stood, and had the decency to look chagrined.

"And so help me, Malfoy, you had better be a model student from here on out. One more display like the one today and you're out of my class. Understood?"

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment and then nodded. "All right, Po-- Professor."

Harry sat at his desk for a long time after Malfoy left, wondering if this would make a difference -- and why he cared so much about what happened to Malfoy in the first place.

.:::::.

Malfoy was early for his detention the following night. Harry had taken dinner in his office to get caught up on marking, and when Malfoy knocked on the door at quarter to eight, he was mid-chew. Malfoy took one look at the enormous pile of parchment on Harry's desk and winced, as if he thought Harry's intention was to make him mark them tonight.

"Take this," Harry said, handing him a scroll. "It's a list of the spells and topics covered on the Defense NEWT. I want you to go through it carefully and indicate which you are confident you know well and which you need to work on."

"What's the point of this?" Malfoy asked, unrolling the scroll and scanning it.

"You'll see soon enough."

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he turned and headed back down the stairs to the classroom. Harry had to fight the urge to fire a stumbling jinx at him.

Twenty minutes later, Harry peered down the stairs to see Malfoy staring at the scroll with an expression of near-defeat on his face. Harry allowed himself a small smile: this was something he always did on the first day of term with his NEWT students. It always focused their attention on the work they needed to do.

He sat in a desk adjacent to Malfoy. "Well?"

Malfoy's eyes were fixed to the paper. "I know a fourth of these spells, and that's if I'm being generous with myself."

"You have four months."

Malfoy looked incredulous. "Oh, that's a relief." He dropped his quill onto the parchment and shook his head. "I barely paid attention to anything during my sixth year, and my seventh was, well. What was I thinking by coming back here?"

"You tell me."

Malfoy sighed. "I get the message, all right? I'm hopeless. So let's get on with this detention. What do you want me to do? Something horribly menial and mindless, I hope."

That hadn't been the reaction he'd expected. Harry sat back in his chair. "Actually, we're just going to talk tonight. I want you to tell me how you're doing, how you're adjusting to being in this time, what you're struggling with, and then we'll figure out how best to help you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically. "This is detention, Potter, not therapy."

"The nature of the detention is at the discretion of the professor."

Malfoy scowled. "If your intent is to humiliate me, you're doing a good job of it. Snape would be proud. Would have been."

"That was not my intention." Harry picked up the scroll and glanced over it. Malfoy did indeed have a lot of holes in his defense knowledge, and the spells he knew were decidedly dark in nature. Harry had expected that much. "Let's start with this, then. Why did you refuse to cast a patronus in class yesterday?"

Malfoy snorted. "Isn't it obvious? I can't conjure a patronus. It was never covered in any of the lessons I had, though it's apparently something fourth years do now. I had no desire to humiliate myself more than I have already."

Harry hadn't considered the possibility that Malfoy couldn't conjure a patronus. "All right then. That's where we'll start. On your feet."

Malfoy looked shocked, but climbed to his feet.

Half an hour later, they'd made little progress. Malfoy had managed a bit of silvery smoke from his wand once, but then seemed to give up.

"You've got to find the right memory," Harry said, leaning back against a desk. "Once you do, it'll be fine. Trust me -- I've helped every Hogwarts student in the last five years learn this charm."

Malfoy nodded, but seemed unconvinced.

"This is difficult magic," Harry continued, his voice soft. "Yes, we start teaching it to fourth years now, but most of them aren't able to produce a corporeal patronus for months."

"How old were you when you learned it?" Malfoy looked right at him for the first time in nearly an hour.

Harry hesitated for a moment. "Thirteen. But it was under duress -- that was the year all the Dementors kept coming on the grounds and--"

Malfoy made a sound like a laugh, but it was full of defeat. "This is hopeless, Potter, and we both know it."

"Sit down," Harry said with a sigh. Malfoy sank into a seat and Harry sat facing him. "What do you want to do after school?"

Malfoy shrugged in response.

"You were preparing for six NEWTs in the midst of a war, which tells me you must have had something in mind."

"That was Snape's idea. He told me I had to be prepared in case the Dark Lord was defeated, that I would be wise not to pin my future plans on a raving lunatic."

Harry smiled. "He was a wise man."

Malfoy gave him a sharp look, as if he thought Harry was being sarcastic. "He was right, obviously, but I don't think I ever believed it. Merlin knows I wanted to believe you would--" He broke off and chewed his lower lip for a moment. "The point is that I have no idea what I want to do. Coming here was a way to stall thinking about it, actually."

"So stop stalling. It's a different world, Malfoy, and you can do anything. Be anything."

"You sound like Dumbledore."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

Harry laughed. "Then keep thinking about it and we'll talk about it next week. In the meantime, I want you to spend some time in the library and start working on the first dozen spells on this list." He rolled the scroll and tossed it back to Malfoy.

Malfoy's expression was incredulous. "You're giving me extra homework?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "And if you hope to have a chance at passing that exam, you'll start tonight." He stood and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Malfoy nodded and gathered his belongings. He headed towards the door, and then paused and turned back. "Professor?"

Harry smiled tightly. He rather wished he hadn't asked Malfoy to call him that now. It sounded bizarre coming from his mouth. "Yes?"

"My other teachers have been content to let me sit in the back of the room and be ignored. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you would be the one to push me to do something."

Harry grinned. "Are you thanking me?"

"I suppose," Malfoy scowled. "But I will deny it to the death if you ever tell anyone."

.:::::.

To Harry's relief, Malfoy's behavior in class became almost tolerable. Harry hadn't exactly expected him to begin participating with Hermione-like enthusiasm, but he had at least stopped being rude. He no longer made snide comments just loud enough for Harry to hear, had stopped rolling his eyes at Harry's attempts at humor, and though it clearly pained him, he even occasionally answered questions and contributed to the class discussion. It was far from the model student behavior Harry had asked for, but it was a start.

Harry spotted him in the library on Saturday afternoon, bent over a large pile of spell books and writing furiously with a large green quill. He had the urge to walk past and pat Malfoy on the shoulder or somehow give him a bit of encouragement, but he resisted. He didn't want to push any harder than he already had.

The following Wednesday evening, Malfoy hefted a large bag on his shoulder as he came into the classroom. He opened it, pulled out an enormous stack of parchments, and handed them to Harry.

"I hope to hell you were planning to read over this and give me feedback," he said. "Otherwise, I'm going to have to hex you."

"Wow," was all Harry could manage as he tried wrapping his fingers around the surprisingly heavy stack. "There goes my Friday night."

Malfoy leaned back against the nearest desk and smiled in a way that was almost smug. "And I can do all of those spells as well. Want to see?"

"Absolutely." Harry gestured to an open space at the front of the classroom.

Malfoy flourished his wand. "I'll start with aparecium."

Half an hour later, Harry was truly impressed. Malfoy had mastered all the spells and charms Harry had assigned him and had even done a few more. It was far more than Harry had expected and it was all he could do to keep his excitement in check.

"You know," he said when Malfoy had finally turned to him with a self-satisfied grin -- the happiest Harry had seen him look in, well, ever -- "if you keep working at this rate you're going to get an O on your NEWT for certain. Have you made any progress on the patronus?"

Malfoy's expression fell. "Ah. None, actually."

"No time like the present, then. Have you thought of a memory?"

Malfoy studied his wand. "I have lots of happy memories from my childhood, but none of them are working."

"Let’s see then. What's your first memory?"

"Father yelling at me to stop crying." He raised an eyebrow almost defiantly.

"Okay… first kiss?"

"Definitely not."

"Christmas morning?"

"I always knew exactly what I was getting, so there was no surprise. It was a bit boring, actually."

"Kicking puppies?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This is helping me ever so much."

"If I could come up with a good one at the age of 13, with my horrific childhood, surely you can think of some moment when you were blissfully happy."

"Well, there was a lovely month in Greece when I was 14." A smile ghosted over Malfoy's face.

"Try it."

Malfoy stood and his forehead furrowed in concentration.

"You have to let it fill your mind and then put yourself back there. Let everything else fall away."

Malfoy opened his eyes. "What if it's-- What exactly do you mean by 'happy'?"

"Just shut up and cast the charm, Malfoy."

Malfoy took a deep breath and held his wand out before him, and closed his eyes. "Expecto patronum."

A faint silvery smoke spilled from the tip of his wand, but then dissipated almost instantly. Malfoy swore under his breath.

"I think you might be letting the memory go too quickly. You have to hang onto it, and believe that you can cast it. It's hard to explain why, but this is one of those spells where confidence is a huge factor."

Malfoy groaned in frustration. "I can't do this right now. Can we work on something else, please?"

"Of course," Harry said gently. "You'll know the right memory when you find it. You can do this, I promise."

They tackled the next set of spells on the list. Malfoy had a surprisingly hard time countering disarming spells, and it took an hour to get to the point that Malfoy could block Harry's expelliarmus at all.

"I don't understand," he said afterwards when they were sitting in Harry's office reviewing the list of spells. "I've always been good at shielding against hexes. Why would that one be any different?"

"Disarming is part of a class of spells that don't require any negative intent, so they're more complex to counter. Actually, that's a fantastic topic for you to look into before next week. It'll really help you with a few other things that are coming up."

Malfoy nodded and made a note on his parchment. "What's next?"

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. It was past ten, but Malfoy didn't seem anxious to leave. He searched around for a topic of conversation, something that would help him better understand how Malfoy was coping. "You said last time that you didn't feel like your other teachers were pushing you hard enough."

Malfoy paused, as if caught off guard by the change of subject. "They're not, but I've been a bit more assertive lately. In a good way."

Harry smiled. "Of course."

"I suppose I have you to thank for that as well." He didn't sound terribly enthusiastic about it.

Harry pursed his lips. "How are you getting on with the other students?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I'm not. They're incredibly cliquish, you know, especially the Slytherins. And they spend so much time whinging about how hard school is that it makes me crazy. They have no idea how easy they have it. None of them have any clue what it was like here last-- well, during the war."

"I know what you mean. It took me a while to get used to being here again. For the first six months, every time I walked into the Great Hall, I kept seeing the dead laid out on the floor."

Malfoy's brow furrowed and Harry remembered he'd missed that part as well. They were silent for a moment.

"The students I've talked to think highly of you. They say you're a great teacher." It seemed to pain him a bit to say it.

"Do they? That's nice to hear."

"Want to know what else they say about you?" Malfoy looked up again.

Not really, Harry thought, but he shrugged.

"That you're queer." His expression was shockingly malicious, as if he thought he'd just dealt a horrific blow to Harry's ego.

Harry smirked. "They're right, of course." Malfoy's mouth fell open and Harry almost laughed at the look of astonishment on his face. "It's not a secret. I've been out for years. Everyone knows."

"And they let you teach?" Malfoy asked, his tone incredulous.

Harry smiled. "The world has changed a great deal in ten years. When Voldemort died, most of his prejudices died with him, including that one. There were loads of laws passed to protect the rights of Muggleborns, magical creatures, gay and lesbian wizards, and so on. They even legalized same-sex marriage before the Muggles did, which was astonishing, to say the least."

"You can get married? To another man?" Malfoy's face had gone from pale to flushed.

"Yes, of course. I can't say that everyone is completely accepting -- when people are raised with hatred, it doesn't just go away overnight. But the Ministry took a strong stand and, at least in public the Wizarding World is very tolerant. When I came out I became the poster boy for gay wizards, as you might expect and -- I'm sorry, I'm completely boring you now, aren't I?"

Malfoy had a distant look on his face, as if he were thinking about something else entirely. He blinked and looked at Harry, and blushed and looked away again.

"Bit of a shock, is it? Sorry about that."

"No, I'm just… surprised, that's all." Malfoy cleared his throat and appeared to focus on the list of spells again, but it was clear his mind was not on them.

Harry sighed. "Well, it's getting late. Why don't we call it a night?"

Malfoy nodded, packed up his things, and almost bolted away.

"That went well," Harry muttered as he watched Malfoy's sleek green jumper disappear through the door of the classroom.

He leaned back in his chair and started reading through Malfoy's parchments. It was going to be a long night.

.:::::.

During Thursday's lesson, Malfoy completely avoided making eye contact with Harry, and blushed furiously the one time Harry helped him adjust his grip on his wand. It had been so long since anyone had reacted negatively to his sexual orientation that Harry found himself at a loss. It was probably a lot to ask of Malfoy just to accept it and move on, after the way he'd been raised. At least, Harry kept telling himself that.

When the following Wednesday's detention rolled around, Harry wasn't sure what to expect. He hadn't seen Malfoy around the school grounds over the weekend, and he was still a bit subdued in Tuesday's lesson.

"Have a good weekend?" Harry asked as Malfoy pulled another stack of parchment from his rucksack.

"I visited Mother, actually. She sends her regards."

"How is she?"

Malfoy sighed. "Barmy, really. She doesn't know where she is or that I lost ten years, and I suspect she thinks I'm twelve years old. She keeps reminding me to feed the cat and we never had one. But otherwise she's in good health."

Harry smiled. "She always asked me to feed the cat as well."

"I've been meaning to thank you for visiting her during the last decade." Malfoy's jaw clenched for a moment before he continued. "She must have been quite lonely there. It's clear that the few visitors she's had have helped a great deal."

"Your mother saved my life. It was the least I could do."

Malfoy cleared his throat and handed over the stack of parchments. "I still managed to get a lot done."

"I've got last week's to give back to you. You were rather thorough. It took hours to read it all."

Malfoy turned away to put the marked stack back in his bag, but not before Harry saw a small smile play at his lips.

"Have you given any more thought to what you want to do after school?"

Malfoy settled in a desk. "I have, actually. I spent the weekend in London and met with our family's solicitor. There's the small matter of redacting my death certificate, but once it's done I'll be in charge of the Malfoy estate. What's left of it, anyway. I was relieved to hear that the Manor was sold years ago; that was something I did not want to deal with." He seemed to shiver at the thought. "I'm going to have to do something to make a living, that's for certain. Mother needs caring for, and it's not clear if she'll be best off at St. Mungo's or if she could live with me."

Harry was surprised that Malfoy was speaking so openly about his personal affairs -- but then, he had no one else to talk to. "If you pass all of those NEWTs, you'll have a lot of options."

"I never expected I'd get to choose anything about my life. And now that I have to make choices, I've no idea where to begin."

"You have time," Harry said. "I can help you, if you like."

Malfoy looked up at him and something in his eyes caught Harry's attention. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it was intriguing. Malfoy nodded and looked away.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

Malfoy showed Harry the next set of spells he'd worked on. Harry corrected a stance here, a wand angle there, and a few instances of pronunciation and concentration. Malfoy was unusually cooperative, even friendly; he'd apparently managed to get past his issue with Harry being gay. Harry found himself relaxed enough to tease him a bit, the way he would have done with Ron or Neville. It was hard to maintain the teacher-student barrier with Malfoy, but somehow Harry didn't mind.

He actually preferred not to think of Malfoy as a student at all. Spending these detentions with him was like stepping back in time, but to an alternate universe in which there was no Voldemort and he and Malfoy were mates. They could have been, had circumstances been different. He felt an odd pang of regret.

"Could you show me again?"

"I… sorry?" Harry's mind had wandered.

"Am I boring you?"

Harry snorted. "Spending time with you is the opposite of boring, Malfoy."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't I be the one kissing your arse?"

"Shut up, you. What did you want me to show you?"

"The patronus."

Harry pulled his wand from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans and effortlessly cast a patronus charm. His silver stag galloped around the room, snorting and bucking.

"Does the form choose you, or is it the other way around?" Malfoy's eyes were glued to the stag.

"No one knows for certain," Harry replied, leaning against a desk next to him. "There are several theories, but the most popular is that it's an element of the subconscious of the caster. The form has great emotional significance for some and none at all for others. It can change for some wizards after a traumatic event, but even that doesn't happen consistently." He turned his head and saw that Malfoy was staring at him. "What?"

Malfoy's gaze softened and he didn't look away. "I think I'm afraid to see it. I'm afraid of the form it will take."

"Why?"

Malfoy sat next to him on the desk, so close that their shoulders touched. "It's terribly personal, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose it can be."

"I just hope it's not a ferret."

Harry laughed out loud before he could stop himself. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Malfoy grinned and shook his head. "There are some things I'll never live down, even though there aren't many people left who remember them."

They smiled at each other and then Harry felt a flutter in his stomach -- one he recognized all too well. He stood and ran a hand through his hair. The silver stag dashed past them again. Harry flicked his wand and it vanished in a whirl of smoke.

"That's all for tonight, actually. I'm behind in marking and I'd like to get to bed before midnight tonight."

"All right," Malfoy said, though there was a definite note of disappointment in his voice. "I could help you with that, you know. Surely I'd be qualified to look over the first years' work."

Harry hesitated. He really could use the help. The extra time he'd spent working with Malfoy had put him behind. But not tonight -- he needed to clear his head before he spent any more time with Malfoy. "Well, if you're volunteering. Are you free after tomorrow's lesson?"

"I am, in fact. I'll stay after." Malfoy smiled once more before closing his rucksack and heading toward the door.

Harry realized he was staring at Malfoy's arse as he walked away, and he groaned. Well, fuck. This was a bit inconvenient.

.:::::.

The students filed out of the classroom, chattering about the big Quidditch match that weekend. Malfoy gathered his things and made his way to the front, and Harry took a deep breath. He'd been unable to think about anything but Malfoy in the last day and had even had a few very interesting dreams about him last night. When Malfoy had walked into the classroom and caught his eye with a small smile, Harry had felt it in his groin.

He was so, so screwed.

"I appreciate this," he said as Malfoy dropped his bag on a desk in the front row. He retrieved a stack of parchment and a pot of red ink and handed the lot to Malfoy. "Be gentle with them. They're first years and they have a lot to learn yet."

Malfoy chuckled. "Relax, Potter. I'm not as mean as you seem to think I am."

Harry smiled and left him to it, retreating to his office to work on the assignments just turned in by the NEWT class. An hour later there was a knock on the door frame and Malfoy's head popped through.

"All done. Anything else?"

"That's enough torture for one day, don't you think?"

Malfoy shrugged and leaned against the doorway. "I don't mind. It's not as if I have any burning social commitments to dash off to."

"I never pegged you for a teacher's pet. A bit pathetic, don't you think?"

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy grinned. "I've been called far worse. Mind if I ask you a personal question?" Harry shrugged and Malfoy sat in the chair across from Harry's desk. "Why did you come back to Hogwarts? From what I've read, you were on your way to a stellar career as an Auror."

"Ah, yes. I managed to disappoint the entire Wizarding World twice in the space of a month. First by coming out as gay -- after a little scandal in the papers involving a photo of me snogging a wizard in a bar in Diagon Alley." He paused to grin as Malfoy's cheeks flushed pink. "And second by leaving the Auror Corps and accepting a position on the faculty at Hogwarts."

"You didn't like being an Auror?"

"Yes and no. It was exciting work and I felt like I was making a difference. It took us years to round up all of Voldemort's supporters, a surprising number of whom were determined to carry on the task he'd set them. But it was also exhausting and god, I was so done with the whole fighting evil thing. I wanted to do something else, anything else."

"Why teaching?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd had some experience with it and had been told I was good at it. And then I had lunch with McGonagall one day and told her I was interested, and she practically made me sign a contract on the spot. That was five years ago, almost six years now."

"You are a good teacher, you know." Malfoy's gaze was intense and Harry felt his cheeks flush. Thankfully, it was dusk and the light in the small office was dim.

"Thanks." He stared back, uncertain what else to say. Want to know what else I'm good at? was probably not appropriate.

"How did you know you were gay?"

Oh, fuck. Harry took a deep breath. "That's a very personal question. Why do you want to know?"

Malfoy bit his lip and shrugged, then looked down at the floor. Interesting.

"I had a girlfriend I thought I was crazy about, but the relationship was… not what I expected. I hadn't had time to question it; my entire life until the age of 18 had been organized around defeating Voldemort. I'd always been drawn to men, and so I decided I should find out for certain if that was what I really wanted. So one night I went to a Muggle club in London and found a bloke and…" He looked away. "This is rapidly becoming an inappropriate conversation to have with a student."

"I'm not offended, Potter. And besides, I'm no ordinary student."

"Regardless, I'm still a professor at this school and talking to a student about details of my sex life is not something I should be doing."

"You didn't finish your story."

"And I don't intend to. The outcome was obvious, don't you think?"

Malfoy sighed and stood. "I suppose I'll just have to use my imagination, then." He gave Harry a smile that bordered on wicked and left the office.

Harry waited until he heard Malfoy's footsteps recede and the classroom door close, and then lightly banged his forehead into the wooden surface of the desk.

.:::::.

"Malfoy still giving you trouble?" Neville handed Harry an open bottle of ale.

"Yes. But not in the way you might expect." He took a long drink from the bottle and sank into the worn burgundy armchair in Neville's room.

"All right, I'll bite. How exactly is he giving you trouble?"

Harry took a deep breath. If he could tell anyone, it would be Neville. "He's flirting with me."

Neville coughed, apparently having just inhaled some ale. "Seriously?"

"He heard I was gay from the other students, and ever since he's been going out of his way to do extra work around the classroom for me."

Neville snorted. "He should feel free to flirt with me any time. I've got greenhouses that need weeding and my students have been suspiciously well behaved lately."

"It's not just that. He looks at me. I mean, looks, like he's thinking about disrobing me. And he asks me provocative questions, many of which I am idiotic enough to answer."

"Is he gay?"

"I'm not sure. He might be questioning, or it might just be a new way to torment me." Harry sighed.

"Hang on," Neville said, his eyes narrowing. "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"No, of course not." Harry winced. "Maybe a small one. Very tiny."

"Harry--"

"I know. It's completely irresponsible and inappropriate and I should be ashamed of myself."

"Not what I was going to say." Neville paused to take a swig from the bottle. "He's of age, so it's not illegal for there to be a relationship, sexual or otherwise. But it's generally considered inappropriate because of the nature of the teacher-student power differential. It's not explicitly forbidden, but faculty have been fired in the past for inappropriate relationships with students. And honestly, must you fellate the bottle whilst we talk about Malfoy?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I was only taking a drink!" Harry set the bottle aside. "Are you saying you think I should let this go on?"

Neville sighed. "If I were you, I'd put an end to it. I know it's different because it's Malfoy, and there was always something between you and Malfoy -- but it's not a good idea."

Harry downed the rest of the ale and sank further into the chair. "I know."

.:::::.

Malfoy burst into the classroom for detention the following Wednesday night, a look of excitement on his face. "I think I've found the right memory!"

"Fantastic! Let's see, then."

Malfoy fished his wand from his robe and took a deep breath. "Expecto patronum!" As had happened the last few times, all he managed to produce was a bit of silvery smoke. He turned to Harry, crestfallen. "I was so certain that one would work. Fucking hell."

"Let's try it again," Harry said, crossing to stand behind him. "This time give it a moment. Let the memory fill your mind. Close your eyes."

He wrapped his hand around Malfoy's fingers on the wand and raised it a bit higher, and put his other hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "Relax," he said, his mouth at Malfoy's ear. "And know that you can do this. Let go your doubt and your fear of what you might see. Take a deep breath."

Malfoy inhaled and then exhaled slowly. Harry squeezed his shoulder.

"Expecto patronum."

Silvery light poured from Malfoy's wand in a rush and whirled in the air above them before settling onto a nearby desk and taking shape.

"Hedwig," Harry whispered.

The large silver owl blinked calmly at them and stretched its wings. It wasn't a snowy owl, now that he looked more closely. Tufts of feathers stuck out from either side of its head, and dark rings around its eyes gave it a stern look. It practically glared at them from its perch.

"I did it," Malfoy said, his voice wavering a bit. He kept his wand pointed at the patronus and waved it toward the ceiling. It took flight, beating its great wings silently as it rose up past the dragon skeleton hanging above them, soaring in a circle around the perimeter of the room. Malfoy laughed and turned to Harry, grinning.

"You did it," Harry said, grinning back.

Malfoy stared at him, his eyes blazing. Harry felt the pull between them as if it was an actual force and then Malfoy closed the distance between them. He clenched Harry's jumper in one fist and tugged him forward. Harry held his breath, knowing he should put a stop to this, but finding himself unable to do anything but stare back. After a long moment, Malfoy leaned in and crushed his mouth against Harry's, and then it was all Harry could do to keep on his feet.

Malfoy kissed like he was seventeen -- rough and hard, with far too much tongue, but it was still more erotic than Harry would have imagined. His hands found Malfoy's shoulders and then one hand was in his hair, and he willed his brain not to process any of it, just to feel for a while. It had been months since he'd been kissed by anyone, ages since anyone had looked at him the way Malfoy did, with such want.

Malfoy backed him into a desk and Harry broke the kiss, panting. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"I think I'm gay," Malfoy said.

"I got that impression, yeah."

Malfoy's grin was predatory. He leaned in to kiss Harry again.

"We can't do this." Harry pushed him back with one hand against his chest. "Merlin knows I want to, but fucking hell, I'm your professor."

"I don't care."

"You're not the one who could get sacked for this, Malfoy. I'm sorry, but I can't. At least not until you've finished your NEWT and I'm not your teacher anymore." Harry took a step to the side and straightened his jumper.

"No one would have to know." There was a hint of desperation in Malfoy's voice now. "Potter, come on! I've been struggling with this for ages, my whole life. And I'm suddenly ten years in the future in a time that's so fucked up and weird, but then I find out that it's okay to be gay here -- the one thing that was always threatening to ruin my life before." He stepped closer to Harry again, his grey eyes more open than Harry had ever seen them, and he reached out to touch Harry's face. "Do you know how long I've wanted you? And now that I know you want me back, you're telling me you can't?"

Harry sat on the desk behind him and took Malfoy's hands in his. "Come here." He tugged him forward and kissed him softly, and pulled away again when Malfoy tried to deepen the kiss. He cupped Malfoy's face in his hands. He looked so young, but there was something raw there too, as if he had a lot bottled up inside, just waiting to be unleashed. An image flickered through Harry's mind of Malfoy above him, pounding into him with that same raw look in his eyes, and he almost moaned. "God, you're so… The things I want to do to you -- you have no idea. But we have to wait. It's just a few months."

"It might as well be years." Malfoy's tone bordered on whinging and it made Harry smile.

"A little over three months, during which you will be revising like a mad man. I would only be a distraction."

"You think you won't be anyway?" Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"We have a lot of work to do tonight." Harry stood and straightened his clothes once more. "Let's get started, shall we?"

.:::::.

The next week was hell. Harry had thought he could handle it, but every time he saw Malfoy -- and he seemed to see him far more often than usual -- he couldn't help but think about the way Malfoy had kissed him and how hard it had been to push him away. It would have been so easy to drag him up to his office, lock the door, cast a silencing spell, and then suck his cock until Malfoy couldn't see straight.

So easy, and so, so wrong.

Harry was the adult here. He could wait. He could control himself.

God, he hadn't wanked this much in years.

To make matters worse, Malfoy wasn't exactly cooperating. He brushed against Harry in the corridors, stared at him constantly in class, and over the weekend had worn a tight-fitting shirt with sleeves just a bit too long for his arms. The sight of that thin fabric stretched across his chest made Harry break into a sweat. How had he known that particular combination drove Harry crazy?

Harry had to return a book to the library on Saturday and found himself lingering by the shelves next to the table where Malfoy was seated. He stole a glance to see that Malfoy was watching him and eating a lollipop, of all things. Malfoy grinned and made a show of licking the lollipop and Harry rolled his eyes. Honestly, who did things like that?

He was mortified when that image popped into his mind that night while he wanked.

How had he not realized before how good-looking Malfoy was, and that he was all tall and lean and wiry and exactly Harry's type? How had he missed the way Malfoy would shake his hair out of his eyes, or the width of his shoulders, or the way his face lit up when he smiled? Well, the latter was easy to answer: until the last couple of weeks he'd never seen Malfoy smile. Now he seemed to smile constantly.

When Malfoy arrived for his fifth and final detention the following Wednesday, Harry was prepared. He'd kept his faculty robes on instead of shucking them instantly after his last class, and he'd arranged for several other students to sit their detentions that evening as well.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the sight of a pair of third year girls cleaning out the tank of venomous fish on the far wall, but he hid his disappointment well otherwise.

"I've been thinking," he said as he rifled through his rucksack.

"I've noticed," Harry replied. "It's a nice change."

"That these sessions have been very helpful for me academically," Malfoy continued, pointedly ignoring the jab. "I'd like to continue meeting with you like this, in exchange for other services."

Harry felt his cheeks flush, and his eyes darted over to the third years.

"Mind out of the gutter," Malfoy said quietly, though he was clearly pleased at the response. "I meant that I could continue marking for you. I could take on the first through third years, in exchange for Wednesday nights and maybe some time on the weekend, if convenient."

Harry searched for a reason to decline the offer, but found none. He despised marking and if Malfoy was volunteering to do it, all the better. Of course, more time spent with Malfoy meant more torment, and he wasn't sure how long his willpower would last. On the other hand, it was his job to help his students. He couldn't turn away from one willing to work.

He nodded. "All right, it's a deal. Can you stay after class tomorrow again?"

Malfoy smiled. "I'm all yours."

They worked on a variety of spells for the next hour, and were in the midst of an intense discussion of the ethics of using hexes that activated pain receptors when the third year students, covered in slime and red welts, interrupted them.

"We're done, Professor," the taller girl said. One of her long braids appeared to have been dipped in purple slime. She looked miserable.

"Go straight to the infirmary and have Madame Pomfrey give you something for those welts. Then right back to your common rooms, both of you."

The girls nodded solemnly and left the classroom. Harry and Malfoy were alone.

"So is it ethical to set children a painful task as punishment?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Ironically, the reason they had detention in the first place was that they skipped the lesson where we discussed how to handle venomous fish properly. I warned them to read up on it before coming here tonight, but they apparently didn't."

"I take it back. That's a fantastic detention."

Harry smiled and stood. "And I'm exhausted. Let's call it a night, shall we?"

Malfoy stood and stepped close, as if anticipating a kiss.

Harry sighed. "Draco--"

"You can't tell me you don't want to."

"You're right. I can't."

Malfoy watched him for a moment more and then leaned in for a quick kiss. The moment Harry registered the feeling of lips on his, they were gone again. Malfoy started to back away and before Harry had time to process what he was doing, he grabbed Malfoy's Slytherin tie and pulled him back in.

This time, Harry was in charge of the kiss. He demonstrated exactly how much tongue he liked and Malfoy, ever a quick study, was quite responsive. By the time Harry finally broke the kiss, Malfoy was panting, and there was an unmistakable bulge in his trousers.

"You can't expect me to go back to the common room like this." He gestured down at his groin.

"You'll survive," Harry said, patting his cheek.

Malfoy sighed. "I take back everything I said about you being a good teacher."

Harry grinned. "I'm heartbroken. See you tomorrow after class?"

"Of course. I have to start earning my keep, don't I?"

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Professor."

He managed to make that word sound exceptionally dirty. Harry had a feeling he'd be hearing it in his dreams.

.:::::.

The next few weeks went by quickly. After the second kiss, Harry didn't trust himself alone with Malfoy, and through careful planning managed to make sure it didn't happen again. Malfoy stayed after class to mark on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and as the NEWTs were drawing ever nearer there were almost always a handful of seventh year students hanging around asking questions. Harry continued to schedule other detentions on Wednesday nights, and when he and Malfoy met on the weekends they did so outdoors.

Malfoy didn't complain -- he got creative. He would often come back to the classroom after the others had left, having conveniently forgotten something, or would go out of his way to walk down corridors near the faculty tower in hopes of running into Harry "unexpectedly" and giving him a wicked grin.

Harry would roll his eyes, but he secretly loved it. His breath would catch in his throat when he saw Malfoy. He could only hope no one else had noticed.

.:::::.

"Just me this afternoon?" Malfoy asked. No other students had stayed behind and the classroom seemed oddly empty.

"They're all leaving for Easter holiday, I suppose," Harry said, handing him a large stack of parchments to mark. "Are you going anywhere?"

Malfoy shrugged. "I'll probably visit Mother on Saturday. Otherwise, I've a lot of studying to do. What about you?"

Harry paused. He wasn't planning to go anywhere, but if Malfoy was going to be here all weekend, perhaps he should. "I haven't decided. Ron and Hermione have been begging me to come visit, see the kids."

"They have children?" Malfoy looked shocked.

"Two," Harry replied. "It's a bit bizarre to think of your friends reproducing, isn't it?"

"Depends on which part of the reproductive process you're thinking about."

"Ha. Get to work, you."

Harry retreated to his office to work for a while, but his mind was trying to work out how to prevent himself from molesting Malfoy before the evening was out.

A knock on his door startled him out of a particularly naughty daydream. "Yes?"

To his surprise, it was Neville whose head popped through the door. "Is he still doing detention, then?" He nodded his head in the direction of the classroom below.

"Sort of. It's a long story. Did you need something?"

"I have a favor to ask, actually." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. Harry allowed himself a moment to admire Neville's broad shoulders and muscular frame.

There had been that one night four years ago when they'd kissed after drinking too much Firewhisky. Neville had stopped Harry's hands when they wandered towards his groin, and though he'd been completely gracious the next day, it had taken Harry a while to get over it.

"McGonagall had me down to stay here over the Easter holiday, but Hannah and I were hoping to get away. McGonagall said that if I could find someone to take my place, I could go." He shot Harry a hopeful look.

"And you're fairly certain I haven't got any plans, are you?"

Neville looked chagrined. "I didn't say that. Though honestly, you hardly ever go anywhere."

Harry sighed. He really ought to say no. He should take this opportunity to get off the grounds for a week and clear his head, anything to get his mind off of Malfoy. He should.

"All right, fine. I'll stay. Go have fun with Hannah."

"I owe you for this, mate. Thanks!" Neville beamed at him before heading back down the stairs.

Harry sighed and rested his forehead on the desk. He must have a masochistic streak he'd never known about.

A few minutes later, he heard voices in the classroom below, and peeked out of the door.

"Hi Professor!" Flora Whitehall grinned as she crossed to the stairs, tugging another seventh year Ravenclaw along with her.

Harry descended the stairs as she approached, trying to remember the name of the other girl. She had done miserably on her Defense OWL and hadn't set foot in his classroom since. Anna? Annette? Something with an A.

"Professor Longbottom just told us that you're staying here for Easter break."

"I've been roped into it, yes." Harry's eyes flicked over to where Malfoy was marking papers and saw him grinning.

"Could we -- our study group, I mean -- use your classroom next week? We need a place to meet and revise and practice spells, and the library's going to be mad crowded."

"I suppose. How many of you are there?"

"Five. Though we're hoping to find a few more, actually."

"Are you?" Harry inclined his head in the direction of Malfoy and Flora cringed. She and her friend exchanged a glance. Harry gave her a pleading look, and she rolled her eyes and nodded.

Both girls walked over to Malfoy and stood in front of him until he looked up.

"What?"

"Are you staying for the holiday?"

"Yes."

"Want to join our study group? We're probably going to hang out in here mostly, revising for Defense and Charms. Professor Coddleworth says we can use the Potions classroom first thing in the morning, so we'll be there a bit too."

"We've got another Slytherin," said the other girl. "So it wouldn't be just you."

Malfoy shrugged. "All right."

"Great, see you!" Flora linked her arm with her friend's and steered her toward the door. "Thanks, Professor!"

Malfoy capped the ink bottle and stacked the parchments, and stood and brought the lot to Harry. "So you're staying after all?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the expression on his face. "Apparently."

"I have ever so much revising to do. I'll likely need a lot of extra help."

"Good thing you have a new study group, then."

"I was thinking along the lines of private tutoring." Malfoy moved closer.

"The door is open," Harry whispered. He could hear students just outside, chattering excitedly as the beginning of their week-long Easter break was drawing near.

"That makes it more exciting, don't you think?" Malfoy winked at him.

"I can't, Draco. You know I can't until--"

"June, I know." Malfoy sighed and stepped back. "See you around, Professor."

Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as Malfoy walked away.

.:::::.

The study group arrived at 11:00 on Monday morning, arguing animatedly about something they'd just worked on in the Potions classroom. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy was in the middle of it, apparently having just made a point about the importance of stirring techniques. They broke off when they saw Harry, and all smiled and greeted him.

"Let's sit here," Flora said, waving her wand. A group of desks shuffled obediently toward her and formed a circle. The students settled, their rucksacks heavy with books.

In addition to the two Ravenclaw girls and Malfoy, the group was comprised of Hallie Burnsfeld (a Slytherin with quite a talent for Defense), Michael Cox (a Hufflepuff who'd done brilliantly on his OWL but had slacked off since), and Ellen Beckleby (a Gryffindor who seemed to have a permanent crush on Harry).

They set to work on shielding charms and Harry headed up to his office and left them to it. He settled at his desk to read The Daily Prophet with a cup of tea, listening absently to the students talking below. He'd almost finished the paper when a snippet of conversation caught his attention.

"-- so much time marking for him, anyway?"

Harry flicked his wand to raise the volume on the audio monitoring charm. It was a spell he'd learned from Neville, who had half a dozen greenhouses to keep tabs on.

"He's had to give me a lot of extra help," Malfoy replied. "They don't teach Defense properly at Durmstrang and I was lost for the first two weeks I was here. Offering to mark for him was the least I could do."

"So it has nothing to do with trying to get into his trousers?" There was a great deal of giggling at that. "Oh come on, Abraxas, the way you look at him -- it's so obvious. You practically salivate when he walks into the room."

"Who doesn't?" Ellen added, giggling.

"At least you have a chance, unlike poor Ellen."

"What makes you think I have a chance?" Malfoy asked. Harry could hear the tone of seriousness in his voice, though he doubted the others would read it that way.

"Well, he's gay, isn't he? And so are you."

"Oh look, he's blushing!" one of the girls said. "That's so adorable."

"Sorry," Malfoy replied. It sounded like he was grinning. "It wasn't so accepted where I was before. I'm still getting used to it."

"Anyway, you're hardly the first student who's tried to get to know Professor Potter better. I daresay half the girls at this school have plotted to get his attention at one time or another, and a good number of the boys as well."

"Are there a lot of gay students at Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked. Harry felt a stab of guilt that even after two months Malfoy seemed to have no friends.

"Yes. Lots of them are transfers from other schools, like you. Everyone knows it's okay here."

"I assume that if the person has an accent, they're gay."

"Ellen!"

"Well, I do! It's not racist. Or homophobic, or--"

"Michael's gay as well," said Flora. "Did you know?"

"That was subtle," Michael replied, speaking for the first time since Harry had edged up the volume.

"Just thought you should know," Flora continued, her voice a bit sing-songy. "No reason…"

"Flora," Michael said in a fairly menacing tone. The girls giggled some more.

"I've been dying to ask you this," Ellen said. "Are you related to Draco Malfoy, the one who died here in the war?" It was silent for a moment.

"He was my cousin," Malfoy replied. "Third cousin, actually."

"Did you know him?" Ellen sounded a bit excited now.

"A bit. I was very small when he died. How do you know about him?"

"Oh, everyone knows the story, don't we? How his wand made it possible for Professor Potter to defeat Voldemort, and how he tragically died after standing up to his own friends to protect Harry. I mean, Professor Potter."

Harry smiled at that. It wasn't entirely the truth, but he'd never seen a reason to contradict Goyle's story.

"Really?" Malfoy asked, a hint of humor in his tone.

"You look a lot like the pictures I've seen of him," Hallie said. There was a definite note of suspicion in her voice.

"Not the first time I've heard that," Malfoy replied. "You know the old joke about pureblood families and inbreeding, don't you?"

"Their family trees have a single branch, I believe," Michael said, and everyone giggled.

"Exactly," Malfoy said, laughing as well. "Anyway, I have a question about the impenetrable shielding charm." The conversation quickly turned back to revision.

Fifteen minutes later one of the students knocked on the door, and Harry went downstairs to help them work on casting impenetrable shields. Malfoy and Michael had paired off to work on the other side of the room and didn't seem to need any help. Malfoy had always been good at shielding and he seemed to be helping Michael improve his form. Harry watched them with narrowed eyes for a moment before heading back to his office.

An hour later the students left. Harry watched them go, noting with more than a twinge of jealousy that Malfoy and Michael were walking together and talking. Malfoy didn't even look back.

.:::::.

The week of Easter holiday was one of the longest of Harry's life. Without his usual timetable of classes to keep him occupied during the day, he was incredibly bored. By Thursday he'd planned lessons and assignments for the rest of term. There was little left to do but read and he'd never been all that interested in reading. For the fortieth time, he wondered if it was possible to get a decent mobile signal in Hogwarts. He'd been meaning to get a mobile phone anyway.

The study group spent long hours in the classroom, but it soon became boring listening to them alternately discuss the minutia of transfiguration charms and the latest gossip about the love lives of Hogwarts students. He had muted the monitoring spell more than once after accidentally overhearing the sordid details of a student liaison in a semi-public place, and resolved to make certain his own classroom was better secured every night.

He'd expected to have to spend the week fending off Malfoy's attempts to get him alone, but it had been quite the opposite. In fact, Malfoy seemed to be avoiding him. And every time Harry saw him, he was with Michael Cox.

Harry began going out of his way to run into Malfoy, even taking all of his meals in the Great Hall, which he'd never done in all his years on the faculty. He volunteered for evening duty so that he had a reason to walk the halls and look for students who were out and about after hours, or engaged in questionable activities. He learned far more about recreational potions use amongst the students than he'd ever wanted to know, but never saw Malfoy out past dinner.

And every time he saw Malfoy and Michael walking together, or standing close to each other and talking, or laughing -- he felt jealousy burning inside him, surprisingly strong. He would glare at them from a distance and he would instantly feel guilty -- it was all so inappropriate to begin with. As much as he'd tried to catch them in the act, he never saw them touching or kissing, and by Friday his curiosity was killing him.

During the study group he watched Michael watch Malfoy, recognizing the look on his face all too well. Michael leaned close and whispered something in Malfoy's ear that made him grin and blush, and Harry had to turn away.

When the study group began packing up to leave for the afternoon, he came downstairs. "Mr. Malfoy, a word, please?"

Malfoy turned back, surprised, and then waved the others away with a promise of sitting with them at dinner. Michael lingered in the doorway for a moment, but finally left.

Harry gestured up the stairs to his office and Malfoy walked up without a word. Harry followed and closed the door behind them, discreetly casting a locking charm and a silencing spell. He crossed to his desk and picked up a stack of parchments Malfoy had marked for him.

Malfoy smiled politely at him. "Yes, Professor?"

"I regret the day I asked you to call me that," Harry said, rolling his eyes. He held up the stack of parchments. "I wanted to tell you that I've been impressed with your work on these. You've given the students very good feedback, and far more of it than they would have had from me."

"Thanks." Silence stretched between them for a moment. "Was there anything else?"

"I also wanted to ask you how you've been. You seem to have made some friends."

"I suppose I have. I don't know what will happen next week, but it's been pleasant enough."

Harry took a deep breath. "You and Michael Cox seem to be chummy."

Malfoy's eyebrows rose. "Chummy? Come on, Potter, why don't you just ask me what you really want to know?"

"All right, fine." Harry's jaw clenched a bit. "What's going on between you two?"

"Far less than you might have imagined." Malfoy leaned back against the door and smiled.

"Tell me."

"Jealous?"

A wave of anger rushed through Harry, stronger than anything he'd felt in a long time. He had an incredible urge to grab Malfoy and press him up against the door, to kiss him and claim him in the way he'd been dreaming about for the last month. He clenched his fists. Why was he doing this?

"You are jealous," Malfoy said with a laugh.

Harry felt something inside him snap. He pushed Malfoy back against the door and planted his hands on either side of Malfoy's shoulders. "Tell me."

"It's none of your business, is it?" Malfoy's eyes were burning now, with either fear or lust. The two looked remarkably similar.

"I'm making it my business." Harry leaned in close, but stopped an inch away from Malfoy's lips. "Has he kissed you?"

"Yes," Malfoy whispered, leaning forward enough to capture Harry's lips in a searing kiss. "But it's nothing like kissing you."

Harry kissed him again and slid one hand down Malfoy's side, and cupped his cock through the fabric of his trousers. "Has he touched you?"

Malfoy gasped and thrust his hips into Harry's hand. "Fuck, Potter. No, he hasn't. No one has."

"No one?" Malfoy's cock was already hard and Harry stroked it through layers of fabric.

Malfoy moaned into his shoulder and then looked up again, his eyes dark. "I'm a virgin in every possible way. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Harry's hand stilled. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. And don't you dare fucking stop now. You've been teasing me for weeks."

Harry kissed him again. He should stop, he knew he should, but fuck it -- he didn't want to. They were both adults, in the end.

And hell, why should he expect Malfoy to wait until summer? They might have a few weeks, and then what? Malfoy would find a job and start his life, and Harry would come back to Hogwarts and that would be that. Malfoy was young and he had years to explore and fuck around, like Harry had done. Harry was looking for a relationship, but boys Malfoy's age were looking for a fuck, a conquest. Did Harry want to be that?

Malfoy whimpered into his mouth and Harry stopped thinking altogether. He dropped to his knees and unfastened Malfoy's trousers as quickly as he could.

Malfoy gasped when he realized Harry's intention. "Oh, god."

Harry freed his cock and caught only a brief glimpse of it before swallowing it down as far as he could. He had fantasized about this moment -- he'd always planned to take it slow, to torture Malfoy's prick with licks and bites, and to pull back when he was on the edge of orgasm again and again.

They could do that next time. He sucked hard and used his tongue to apply pressure, and Malfoy came within a minute, hissing a string of expletives. Harry released Malfoy's prick with more than a little reluctance and sat back on his heels as Malfoy slid down the door and landed on his arse.

"That was amazing. Wait, did you swallow it?" Malfoy's cheeks flushed.

"Of course." Harry grinned at him.

Malfoy looked like a man who'd just found religion. "Please tell me you're not going to make me wait until June to do that again."

"I may not make you wait ten minutes," Harry said, lunging toward him. There was a knock on the door then, and they both stared at each other for a second before leaping to their feet. Malfoy refastened his trousers and Harry gestured for him to stand behind the door.

He opened it a few inches and peered out. A Gryffindor boy wearing a prefect badge smiled brightly at him and held out a note. "Afternoon, Professor. It's from the Headmistress. She says it's urgent."

"Yes, thanks," Harry said as he took the note. He closed the door and unfolded the paper. "I've got a meeting in five minutes."

"Just my luck," Malfoy said. He bit his lower lip. "So… does this mean we're official?"

It was too late to say no. Harry pulled him in for a kiss, slow and burning and full of longing. God, he wanted Malfoy, more than he could remember wanting anyone before. "We have to be careful. If anyone finds out--"

"They won't. I promise." Malfoy's head fell back as Harry's lips made their way down his throat.

Reluctantly, Harry pulled away and straightened his robes. "What about Michael?"

"I'll let him down gently. He kisses like a fish anyway. And he's such a Hufflepuff, you've no idea." He paused and grinned. "Though I have to say I like you jealous."

"Don't push it." Harry swatted him on the arse and opened the door.

"Thanks, Professor," Malfoy said with a wink. There was a definite swing in his step as he left the classroom.

Harry shook his head as he watched him go. He was so fucked.

He cast a locking spell on his classroom (now that he knew what that one Slytherin prefect had done in there a month ago) and headed to McGonagall's office. At the top of the spiral stairs he knocked and the large doors swung open.

McGonagall looked up at him over her spectacles, a serious expression on her face. "You'd best sit down, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy should be here shortly."

"Malfoy?" Harry felt his insides twist unpleasantly. Surely she couldn't know what had just happened between them.

"His life is about to get quite a bit more difficult, I'm afraid."

Harry sank into a chair just as there was another knock at the door. It opened and a Slytherin prefect walked in with Malfoy.

"That will be all, Mr. Johnson," McGonagall said to the prefect, who nodded and closed the door behind him as he left. "Sit, Mr. Malfoy."

Malfoy settled in a chair next to Harry, his face pale even for him. He shot a glance at Harry, who shrugged.

"You've been found out," McGonagall said.

Harry's innards did a quick flip, and then she held up a copy of the Prophet. The headline read DRACO MALFOY, TIME TRAVELLER? An old photo of Malfoy flanked by Crabbe and Goyle sneered from the front page

"Tomorrow morning's headline. I have a good friend at the Prophet who was kind enough to send this to me via owl post so that we could be prepared."

"How did they find out?" Malfoy asked.

McGonagall handed him the paper. "We're not certain. Quite a few people know your identity, and not all of them are at Hogwarts. Several of our students are children of reporters for the Daily Prophet. It's possible one of them mentioned you over the holiday and a curious parent decided to look into it."

"They can't have any proof."

"Someone at St. Mungo's apparently revealed everything they knew about your situation. After that it was a matter of checking the official records."

"Which were just changed a few weeks ago," Malfoy said, slumping into his chair.

"Along with at least one witness who claimed to have been notified by Mr. Potter himself that you were alive and well, and reports from the students who were in the Great Hall the night you reappeared, they had enough information to piece together the story."

Malfoy sighed. "It was going to happen eventually, I suppose."

"Mr. Malfoy, surely you understand how difficult life at Hogwarts will be for you after this?"

"Would it be any better elsewhere?" Malfoy retorted. "You have the authority to ban media from setting foot on school grounds, have you not? The students will find me fascinating for a few weeks, and then they'll go right back to ignoring me. By the time I take my NEWTs, it'll all have blown over."

"But Mr. Malfoy--"

"I'm not leaving!" Malfoy snapped, handing the paper back to her. "You can't make me go. Potter, tell her how well I've been doing, how far I've come!"

"Relax, Malfoy," Harry said, looking back and forth between them. "I don't think that's what the Headmistress is suggesting. I have quite a bit of personal experience with this -- some of it no thanks to you, by the way. But I know what it's like to be treated as a celebrity one minute and a pariah the next. I can help you with this."

Malfoy's jaw was clenched, but his eyes were full of emotion.

"Precisely," McGonagall said. "In fact, the reason I asked Mr. Potter here this evening was so that he could help you formulate a plan. I'll be meeting with the prefects of all the houses shortly and I'll warn them of what's about to happen. I can ban reporters from school grounds, but there isn't much more I can do, to be honest."

"Or will do," Harry said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. "The school has shown that it can ban certain forms of harassment, after all."

McGonagall's eyes narrowed at him. "I'm open to suggestions, Mr. Potter, and I do hope you will keep me informed of the situation should any action from this office be necessary. That is all for now."

They walked in silence down the corridor.

"Say something," Harry said at last.

"I'll be fine, Potter. Nothing can be worse than the last year of my life. I'll take several hundred gossiping Hogwarts students over a homicidal maniac holding my family hostage any day."

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. "You have a point. Might I give you a bit of advice?"

Malfoy shrugged.

Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. "Find your friends and tell them tonight. Don't let them find out from the paper in the morning."

"That's your advice?" Malfoy looked confused.

"If it weren't for my friends, I'm not sure I would have made it through some of the more difficult times. You've gone it alone once already and you know how hard it can be."

"I'm not alone," Malfoy said, looking intently at him.

Harry smiled. "No, of course not, but that's not what I meant. The study group kids like you, Draco. Let them help you. You'll need their help to prepare for your NEWTs, at the very least."

"True." Malfoy's lips quirked into a sly smile. "I suppose this would be a bad time to ask for another blowjob?"

"Could you say that a bit louder? I don't think those students at the end of the corridor heard you."

"It would distract them all from the news of me suddenly not being dead."

"That it would." Harry stopped at the staircase leading down to the Slytherin dormitory. "If you need to talk, you know how to find me."

"And if I need to not-talk to you?" Malfoy winked and started down the stairs.

Harry grinned all the way back to the faculty tower.

.:::::.

"Harry!" There were arms around him the moment he stepped out of the floo. Hermione laughed and brushed soot from his cloak. "Sorry about that. Ron's being meaning to clean out the chimney for weeks now and it's been mad around here. I'm so glad to see you, at last!"

"Thanks for inviting me," he said as she stepped away and gestured him toward the sofa. "You look amazing, Hermione. No one would guess you had a baby a few months ago."

"Breastfeeding," she said with a wink. "I've lost a stone already. Come and see how much he's grown."

Hugo had grown quite a bit. The last time Harry had seen him he was a newborn, but now he was very much an infant, staring at everything around him with wide eyes and reaching out with his tiny hands. Harry picked him up and was rewarded with a toothless grin and a giggle.

"Oh, you are a big boy, look at you. Hermione, he's got your eyes. Where's Rose?"

"Asleep, thank god. She fights her naps these days and it's making me crazy. Ron will be back shortly. He went to get us some take-away for lunch. I've wanted Thai food all week and I know how much you love it."

"It'll be nice to have something not on the menu at Hogwarts."

"How are you? You look… unusually happy."

"Do I?" Harry grinned. "A week off has done me wonders."

"I suppose everyone's full of gossip about Malfoy after yesterday's front page?"

"They're all coming back today, and I'm sure that's all they'll talk about. I won't get anything done in class for the next few days. It'll blow over in a week or two, I hope."

"How is Malfoy handling it all?"

Harry bounced Hugo on his lap, trying to get him to smile again. "He's chewing on his fists. Does that mean something?"

"Hungry, probably. Here."

He handed the baby back to her and she tugged her shirt up and put him to her breast in one smooth motion.

"Wow, you're a pro now, aren't you?"

"You were expecting a peep show?" She winked at him. "Back to Malfoy. How is he?"

"He's fine. Better than fine, actually. He's…" Harry sighed and settled back into the cushions of the well-worn sofa. "I need to tell you something."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this something that Ron isn't going to like?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Yeah."

There was a pause, and her mouth fell open. "You mean you and Malfoy…?" Harry nodded and she looked incredulous. "Harry, he's a student!"

"I know, I know. I can't explain it. It just happened."

"What do you mean, it just happened? How does it just happen that you have an affair with a student?"

"You assume we're having sex."

"Hello, this is you we're talking about."

"It's not gone quite that far."

"Then you're showing uncharacteristic restraint." Hermione shook her head. "Harry, he's 17!"

"Yes, but I can't think of him that way. You know what he went through in that last year, which is literally last year for him. He's Malfoy, but he's grown up and… I've never felt so strongly about anyone so quickly. I think about him all the time. God, I'm babbling, aren't I?" He rubbed at his face with his hands.

Hermione sighed. "You're right. Ron will hate this. I hope you're being careful."

"We are. He'll take his NEWTs in June, and then we won't have to sneak around."

"I can't say I'm completely surprised. There was always something between you and Malfoy." She paused for a moment and looked down at Hugo, whose eyes were almost closed. "But that's not what I meant, actually. He's young and he's been thrust into this new world where everything is different. Are you sure he's not just clinging to you because you're the only familiar person there? In a few months he'll leave school, and what will happen then?"

Harry stared at his hands. "I don't know. The only thing I'm certain of right now is that I care about him and I want him. And he wants me as well."

"Oh, Harry. You're already falling for him, aren't you?"

The door opened and they both turned to look as Ron walked in, paper bags in each arm. "Harry!"

They didn't talk about Malfoy after that, though every time Harry looked at Hermione, her smile was just a bit sad.

.:::::.

Harry didn't see Malfoy until dinner Monday night. He arrived in the Great Hall to stares and whispers, with heads turning towards him left and right, and flanked by Hallie Burnsfeld and another Slytherin seventh-year girl. They glared a path through the crowd for him, and the three of them sat in the middle of the long Slytherin table, facing the rest of the room.

Harry smiled, relieved that the Slytherins were closing ranks around Malfoy.

The school had simply exploded with excitement that morning when classes resumed and Harry had spent the entire day threatening detentions. He'd even planned for his lessons to be almost entirely practicals, expecting it would keep the students busy, but instead he spent the day trying to keep each group on task. By the last lesson, he'd given up and let them go early.

"He seems to be handling it well," Neville said, pulling a chair next to Harry and settling in it with a cup of tea. He stared out across the tables of students in the Great Hall. "I'm not so certain about you, though."

Harry looked up at him. "Sorry?"

"You've been watching him for twenty minutes." Neville raised an eyebrow. "You might be a bit less obvious."

"I tried to follow your advice," Harry said quietly. "I honestly did."

"Relax, I'm not going to tell anyone. But be careful. I'd hate to see you throw away your career over him."

Harry nodded. "Am I a fool for thinking this could go somewhere?"

"Yes," Neville replied. "We always are, aren't we?"

.:::::.

It was well after midnight when a soft sound woke Harry from a rather pleasant dream. He'd left a light on, apparently -- it was bright enough to read in bed. He turned his head and saw that the light was coming from a silver-white owl perched on his nightstand. It took him a moment to place where he'd seen it before, and then it opened its beak.

"I need to talk," Malfoy's voice said softly. The owl's dark-ringed eyes blinked at him. "I'm at the bottom of the stairs."

"Impressive," Harry said. He hadn't taught Malfoy that spell; he must have learned it on his own. The owl tilted its head at an odd angle, looking impatient, and Harry sat up. "All right, I'm coming."

Malfoy's owl disappeared, leaving the room dark again. Harry fished for his wand on the nightstand and lit the lamp, and then pulled a rumpled jumper from the floor to wear over his pyjamas. He opened a drawer and dug out his invisibility cloak, and headed out the door.

Malfoy was waiting at the door of the faculty tower. Harry ushered him in after glancing around to be certain the corridor was empty, and handed Malfoy the cloak. After a moment of confusion followed by wide-eyed realization, Malfoy wrapped it around himself and vanished from view. Harry turned and walked back up the stairs, down the corridor, and to his room.

Malfoy pulled the cloak off when the door was closed, and turned to grin at Harry. "I've always heard you had one of these."

"You wanted to talk," Harry said, yawning.

Malfoy suddenly looked almost shy. "I've never been in one of the faculty rooms before. You have your own bath?"

"Want a tour?" Harry gestured around the small room. "Bed, table, desk, toilet. That's about it."

Malfoy's gaze lingered on the bed. "Mind if I sit?"

He shrugged and Malfoy crossed to sit on the small bed. Harry hesitated a moment before sitting beside him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, really. It's weird to be the center of attention after being all but ignored for almost two months, but otherwise it's fine."

"Has anyone given you any trouble?"

He shook his head. "Not really. They all just want to look at me, for the most part. It's a bit unnerving."

"That it is." Harry smiled wryly. "But you get used to it."

Malfoy gazed back at him. "I lied, actually. I didn't come here to talk."

"I know." Harry leaned toward him and Malfoy met him halfway, and the kiss was even better than the one Harry had just dreamt about. He pulled Malfoy closer and Malfoy's arms went around him, and it felt so blindingly right that it sent a chill through him.

So what if he got sacked for this? Maybe it was time to move on anyway, to find a career that didn't keep him cloistered away in a castle for the rest of his life. He and Malfoy could date properly, without all of this sneaking around, and maybe have a shot at a real relationship.

Malfoy moaned and leaned back onto the bed, pulling Harry down with him. "I've been thinking about this for days," he said as Harry's mouth made its way down his jaw to his ear. "I haven't even had a proper wank lately -- too many people watching."

"That's what silencing spells around your bed are for," Harry whispered. God, the curve of Malfoy's ear was so perfectly lickable.

"Can't spend all day in bed," Malfoy replied, and gasped as Harry's tongue worked its way down to an earlobe.

Malfoy's hand fumbled at the waist of Harry's pyjama bottoms and Harry's breath caught in his throat. That hand wormed its way into his pants and then cool fingers wrapped around his prick, which was instantly hard.

"Wow," Malfoy said.

Harry grinned. "Is that a compliment?"

"I've never touched anyone else's before. It's strange."

"Maybe not a compliment then."

"Can I see it?" Malfoy grinned up at him.

"You can do anything you want with it. It's all yours."

Malfoy scooted out from under him and moved down the bed. Harry pushed his pyjama bottoms off, and stripped off the rest of his clothing as well. He settled back on the bed, completely naked, and smiled at Malfoy.

"Whatever you want."

Malfoy's eyes were dark in the dim light. He stroked Harry's cock slowly, watching the way the foreskin slid over the head and down again. "You know what I've always wanted to do?"

"What?"

"This." Malfoy leaned over and licked the head of Harry's cock.

Harry fought the urge to whimper. "Surely you've more imagination than that?"

Malfoy settled on his side. "You're terribly impatient, for a teacher." He licked again, this time flicking his tongue, and Harry groaned.

He propped himself up on his elbows to watch as Malfoy wrapped his lips around the head. There was something incredibly erotic about the idea that Malfoy had never done this before, that he was sucking a cock for the first time and it was Harry's.

"God, that's amazing," he whispered as Malfoy took his prick in further. "You look so hot right now, you've no idea."

Malfoy pulled nearly all the way off before working his way down again. It wasn't the best blow job ever, but it didn't matter. Even mediocre head was still head, and Harry could have come from the mere idea of Malfoy sucking him off. There was plenty of time for him to show Malfoy what he liked.

Malfoy was working hard now, sucking and licking, and the sight of his cock disappearing into Malfoy's mouth was amazing. There was heat and wet and tongue and god, it had been months since Harry'd had sex. That was definitely one of the drawbacks of working at Hogwarts. Unless, of course, one utterly disregarded the rules and snuck a student into the faculty tower in the middle of the night -- a school night, no less -- for oral sex. It was so, so wrong and it felt so, so good.

Malfoy wrapped one hand around the base of Harry's cock and sucked the head furiously, working it with his tongue. They'd have a talk about that later -- but for now, it was enough, and Harry was close to coming, very close.

"I'm gonna… oh fuck…" was all the warning he managed. Malfoy didn't pull away and Harry was too far gone to pull out. He loved the sensation of coming in someone's mouth: the intimacy of it was mindblowing, but there was something about the feeling of having semen practically sucked out of his cock that made the whole experience even better.

Malfoy had stilled when Harry came, and then he pulled off with an odd expression on his face.

"Just push it to the back of your mouth and swallow before you can taste anything."

Malfoy swallowed and made a face. "Too late."

Harry grinned. "It's a bit strange, but you get used to it. You even start to like it. Or I do, anyway."

Malfoy contemplated Harry's spent prick and smiled. "That was more fun than I expected."

"Good. I was hoping you'd be inclined to do it again." Harry held out an arm. "Come here."

Malfoy climbed up Harry's body and kissed him. He was still fully clothed and was heavier than he looked, but there was something about the weight of him on Harry that felt oddly right. Harry worked a hand between their bodies and under the waistband of Malfoy's pyjamas.

"What would you like me to do about this?" he asked, stroking Malfoy's prick.

Malfoy rolled onto his back, taking Harry with him. "That's nice, actually."

Harry kissed him again and kept stroking, twisting his hand at the top just under the head. Malfoy groaned and twined his fingers in Harry's hair.

"Tell me how you like it," Harry whispered. "What do you do when you wank?"

"Faster." Malfoy replied. His eyes were closed and his hair fell back from his face, and he almost seemed to glow in the dim light.

Harry rolled to Malfoy's side and braced his weight on his elbow. His hand worked fast, pulling the foreskin back and forth over the head, and he kissed Malfoy again. Malfoy was breathing hard now, his forehead furrowed.

"Like that?"

"Yes yes yes… oh fuck…" And then he came all over Harry's hand.

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep himself from commenting on how fast it had happened. He'd been that young once as well, but it was still a bit funny.

"Sorry," Malfoy said at last, opening his eyes.

"You've nothing to be sorry for," Harry replied as he extracted his hand. He licked the semen off of it as Malfoy watched, and grinned at the look of fascination on his face.

"You actually like it, don't you?"

Harry snuggled against him, his head on Malfoy's shoulder. "I like the idea, mostly. I'd like it if you stayed a bit, but you should be back in your own bed before morning."

Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, and he was struck once again by how surprisingly right it felt. He swallowed down a flicker of apprehension, pushing it aside to worry about later. Not now. Right now, he was going to enjoy this.

Two hours later he shook Malfoy awake and sent him back to the dormitory with the invisibility cloak.

"Use it when you need it," he said. "Your life is going to be crazy for a while, but if anyone finds out about this it'll get even crazier."

"Two more months," Malfoy said with a yawn, and kissed him before disappearing beneath the cloak.

.:::::.

The students were just as distracted on Tuesday, and when the seventh-year class came in Harry had no idea what to expect. Malfoy arrived flanked by Flora and Michael, who sat on either side of him and immediately engaged him in conversation, as if to prevent anyone else from trying. Harry smiled at that, glad that Malfoy's new friends were sticking by him. He'd meant to ask Malfoy how that discussion had gone, but they'd not done much talking lately.

Most of the students were staring at Malfoy and whispering with their neighbors, and it took Harry a full minute to get their attention.

"We've nearly finished the NEWT curriculum now and in a few weeks we'll focus on revising for the exam. I want each of you to submit by next week a list of ten spells or topics you think are your weakest, and we'll make a study plan from there. Yes, Alexa?"

"I was wondering if we might…" The girl paused, looking slightly embarrassed, but the girls on each side of her gave her a nudge. "You've always given us a class day when we can ask you any questions we want about your fight against Voldemort. Some of us were wondering if we might do the same with Draco Malfoy."

Malfoy's head whipped around at that and Harry's jaw clenched. "I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is tired of being asked questions."

"I don't mind, actually," Malfoy said, and everyone turned to look at him again. "If it stops people from staring at me every minute of the day, I'd be happy to answer questions."

Harry looked around the room, but it was clear he had already lost them. The students were turning towards Malfoy and whispering amongst themselves excitedly. Harry shrugged and sat in an empty desk, and gestured to Malfoy. "All right, then. They're all yours."

Hands went up everywhere at once. Malfoy looked bewildered for a moment before finally pointing to a Ravenclaw boy sitting close to him.

"How did you travel through time?" the boy asked. "Was it a spell or an accident, or something else?" The room went completely silent.

Malfoy seemed to take a steadying breath. "I've no idea what happened, to be honest. I was hanging on to Potter and I slipped and fell into the flames, and the next moment I hit the floor and the fire was gone. I ran out into the corridor and everything was quiet, and so I went to the Great Hall. But there was no battle, no Dark Lord -- just students having dinner." He paused and shook his head. "I thought I'd gone mad."

"If you could go back to your time, would you?" someone asked.

"Are you insane?" Malfoy retorted. "Surely you've heard Potter's story enough to know that those years were hell. I'd obliviate myself if I could. The further I am from all of it, the better." Hands flew up again.

Malfoy spent the next hour answering questions. Students asked about everything from what he thought of the future he found himself in to details about Voldemort's lunacy and the role Malfoy's family played in the war. Harry found himself interested in Malfoy's answers, as some of them were questions he'd not asked himself.

"Do you still have a Dark Mark?" one girl asked, and Harry realized that even though he'd seen Malfoy's prick on two different occasions, he'd never seen him without a shirt.

"No, it's gone," Malfoy said quickly and moved on to the next hand up, though he tugged at his left sleeve a bit.

"Did Professor Potter know it was you all along?" a Hufflepuff boy asked, and several students laughed.

Harry expected a sarcastic comment, but to his surprise Malfoy smiled. "Of course. He came to visit me in the hospital, and was the one who encouraged me to return to Hogwarts. And he's supported me every step of the way. I was nearly two years behind in Defense when I arrived here and he's given me quite a lot of extra help."

He didn't look at Harry, but most of the students did. Harry smiled and looked down at his hands for a moment.

"Is it strange to be still 17 when everyone else you know has got older?" asked Michael.

"It was at first," Malfoy replied. "But the things I experienced during the last two years were so much more horrible than what any of you could imagine. No one knows what that was like, except for the ones who were there." He looked at Harry. "So I don't feel like I'm 17, not really."

Michael looked away at that and a few students around the room exchanged glances.

"Is it weird to have people you knew in school as your professors?" another boy asked.

Malfoy was still staring at Harry, so intensely that Harry felt himself blush. He looked down and picked at the hem of his robe.

"Weirder than you can imagine," Malfoy said. "But it's also interesting to see them all grown up."

A few students giggled and Harry smiled tightly. "Is there anything else?" A couple of hands shot up, but he ignored them. "Very well then, the subject is closed. I'll expect those lists of topics on Thursday. Class dismissed."

Malfoy's friends glared away the handful of students who tried to approach him, and finally everyone packed up and left.

"I've nothing for you to mark today," Harry said as Malfoy crossed to him. "Easter holiday and all."

"Are we still on for tomorrow night?"

Harry glanced over Malfoy's shoulder to see Michael looking uncomfortable a few feet away. "Of course. If you like, you can bring your study group."

Malfoy shrugged and gave Harry a small smile before he turned to leave.

Harry sighed as he watched him go. Two more months, and then they wouldn't have to hide any more. Harry didn't know how he was going to make it.

.:::::.

Malfoy arrived Wednesday night with the study group, to Harry's relief. They worked mostly on their own, occasionally asking Harry for help, and seemed to be seriously focused on revising. Malfoy and Michael were no longer attached at the hip, and Michael didn't seem terribly happy about it.

Malfoy didn't stick around at the end of the session and he didn't stay after class on Thursday. The students had seemed to lose interest in him after an intense couple of days, and though he still got quite a few stares in the corridors and in the Great Hall, things were starting to go back to normal far more quickly than Harry had expected.

By Friday, Harry was nearly paranoid about Malfoy's complete lack of communication with him. He'd expected a few late-night visits after lending Malfoy his cloak, but that hadn't happened. He didn't see Malfoy at breakfast on Saturday morning and then he was busy most of the day supervising the Hogsmeade trip. He had dinner with Neville and Penelope at the Hog's Head, and though he completely avoided the subject of Malfoy, both of them kept asking if he was feeling all right.

He wasn't, though he'd never admit it. He had no idea where he stood with Malfoy, and it was becoming clear that he was hoping this thing between them was far more than just a fling. It was infuriating that he couldn't freely talk to Malfoy about it, nor to anyone else. It was so horribly unfair and it would probably end badly.

He took a sleeping draught and went to bed feeling sorry for himself.

The knock on his door was so slight he almost missed it. He fumbled for his wand and pointed a lumos at the clock -- 4:00 am, really? -- before stumbling to the door. There was no one there when he opened it, and just as he was about to threaten to hex whoever was playing such a cruel joke on him, he remembered that Malfoy had the cloak. He stepped back and opened the door wider, and felt a light brush of fabric against his skin.

Once the door was closed, Malfoy pulled the cloak away and grinned at him in the dim wandlight. "Hi."

Harry yawned. "At this hour? Are you mental?"

"I told everyone I was spending the weekend in London visiting Mother," Malfoy said, folding the cloak over a chair. "I decided to come back early so I could sneak up here. I won't be missed until tonight, so…" He crossed to Harry and gazed up and down at him. "Do you always sleep like this, with no shirt?"

Harry flicked his wand at his bed and it stretched itself out to nearly twice its width, now taking up half of the small room. "We can discuss it in the morning." He climbed back in the bed and settled under the covers, still groggy despite Malfoy's arrival. Damn sleeping draught.

Malfoy stripped down to his pants and slid under the covers beside him. His hands were cold against Harry's skin, and Harry allowed him a kiss before snuggling against his shoulder.

"We have all day tomorrow. Right now, sleep. Please."

He heard Malfoy sigh next to him, and he drifted off to sleep.

.:::::.

Harry yawned and opened his eyes. Daylight filtered in through the room's small window and cast a streak across the bed, right over the bare chest of Draco Malfoy. Harry rolled onto his side and watched him sleep, taking in the rise and fall of his chest, the stubble on his chin, and the sound of shallow, rhythmic breathing. Harry's eyes drifted down to Malfoy's chest, to the scattering of blond hair between pale nipples, and then to the lines of faint silvery scars stretching across his skin.

Harry swallowed at the sight, seized by an inexplicable impulse to run his tongue down the length of each. He wondered if Malfoy would mind waking up that way.

Malfoy shifted and turned onto his side. His left arm stretched out towards Harry a bit, and then Harry saw it -- the faded lines that remained of a Dark Mark. He'd assumed Malfoy was lying about it in class; he'd spent five years chasing former Death Eaters and had seen plenty of faded Marks. But it was odd to be faced with the fact that the man he was falling for -- and honestly, he was falling for Malfoy -- had been counted amongst their numbers. Things had changed so much between them in the last few months. Malfoy seemed to be a completely different person than the one Harry remembered from all those years ago.

"Does it bother you?"

Harry looked up to see Malfoy's grey eyes on his. He shook his head. "Ancient history. Or it might as well be, these days."

Malfoy sighed. "It bothers me. Perhaps because that history isn't quite so ancient." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Will it ever go away?"

Harry shrugged. "No one knows. They seem to fade with time, but no, I don't think it'll ever go away completely."

Malfoy stared at the ceiling. "I just want that part of my life to disappear. Like it never happened, you know?"

"Jumping ten years into the future helps with that."

"But it will never completely go away. Maybe I should've changed my name. Become someone else. I could have started over."

"And stop being a Malfoy?" Harry smirked. "I can't imagine."

Malfoy smiled. "I suppose you're right. What time is it, anyway?"

"No idea," Harry replied. He stretched and sat up. "Want to take a shower?"

"Erm, okay. Do I need one?"

"I meant together, actually." Harry winked at him, and laughed when Malfoy nearly popped out of bed.

Harry led him to the bathroom and started the water. When he stepped out of his pants, Malfoy's eyes went straight to his groin.

Harry grinned. "Want to play a game?"

"A game?" Malfoy's cheeks went pink.

Harry hooked his thumbs into the waist of Malfoy's pants and tugged them down. Malfoy's breath caught as Harry dropped to his knees with them, and Harry smiled up at him. "You can't touch yourself at all, and no matter what you can't come." Malfoy's cock was already at attention and Harry gave the tip a quick kiss before standing again.

"How do you win?"

"If we play well, we both win."

The shower was small, but they managed. Harry soaped up his hands and ran them over Malfoy's chest and shoulders, enjoying the feeling of slick-wet skin. His fingers swirled the dusting of hair on Malfoy's chest and followed the trail from his navel down to his groin. Harry slid a soapy hand over his cock just once, and Malfoy closed his eyes.

"Not yet," Harry said as he pushed Malfoy under the spray. He washed his hair, earning a moan from him when Harry massaged his scalp.

Malfoy took a turn then, washing Harry's chest and arms and delighting at how ticklish Harry was. He worked quickly, not as interested in drawing out the sensation of being touched as Harry had been. Harry smiled: it was fine for now.

"How thoroughly are we washing each other?" Malfoy asked as he lathered his hands again.

"Depends on how dirty we are."

"In that case--" Malfoy's soapy hands found Harry's prick and stroked, and Harry groaned. In less than a minute he was far too close to coming and he had to push Malfoy's hand away.

"My turn," he said, turning Malfoy to face the spray. He lathered his hands and started with Malfoy's shoulders, massaging them and then working his way down to his lower back.

"That's nice," Malfoy said as Harry paused for more soap.

"It's about to get nicer." Harry trailed his fingers across Malfoy's hips and over his arse before delving between the cheeks. Malfoy jerked in surprise, but Harry kept his touch gentle, letting his fingers glide over Malfoy's arsehole before continuing underneath to his balls. He reached around with his free hand to squeeze Malfoy's prick and the fingers of the other hand worked their way back up to his arsehole again, circling lightly before pressing gently against the hole, almost breaching him with a fingertip.

Malfoy turned around then and kissed him. Harry's hands went to Malfoy's sides to keep his balance, and their cocks slid together between them.

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling rather clean," Malfoy said. "Are you certain about this 'no coming' rule?"

"Rinse off," Harry said, grinning up at him. "It'll be more comfortable in bed."

They barely made it to the bed -- drying each other off had nearly done them in -- and now they were kissing so frantically they would both likely have stubble-burn later on. Once they were finally on the bed, Harry straddled Malfoy and looked down at him.

"You're so gorgeous," he said, tracing one nipple with the tip of his finger. "I want to devour every inch of you."

"You really like to drag this out, don't you?"

"It's called foreplay, and it's not just for women. You'll see."

"I'm young, you know. I don't need foreplay. I can come four times."

"I'll hold you to it." Harry leaned down and licked along the line of one of the scars on Malfoy's chest. "I was wondering if you would still have these scars."

Malfoy watched him trace each with his tongue, as if he were trying to heal them. "You certainly left your mark on me."

Harry paused and looked up. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It changed me for the better."

Harry turned his attention to Malfoy's navel. "How?"

"It-- that tickles! I think it's when I realized you were actually capable of dark magic, that you really had a chance to defeat the Dark Lord. And Snape, he… " He trailed off as Harry's mouth made its way to a hipbone.

"Go on."

"He told me afterwards that I had to protect myself first, that I couldn't rely on my father or assume the outcome of the war. And from then on, I didn't." He sounded breathless now and his cock was leaking fluid.

"You decided to trust me, did you?"

"No. But I stopped underestimating you."

"Roll over."

Malfoy hesitated, but he complied. Harry straddled him again, letting his prick slide against the crack of Malfoy's arse as he massaged his shoulders.

"Relax," he whispered as he kissed Malfoy's shoulder. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable doing. But trust me right now, all right? You're going to like this."

Malfoy sighed as Harry licked his way down his spine, and then jumped when Harry playfully bit his arse.

"Ticklish?"

Malfoy's "yes" was slightly muffled by the pillow he'd buried his face in.

Harry pried his arse cheeks apart with his fingers and licked his way down the crack, stopping just short of his hole.

"Knees," he said, and Malfoy tucked his knees under him so that his arse was in the air and exposed. Harry settled behind him on the bed. Malfoy's balls hung between his spread thighs, his cock reached down to the mattress, and his arse cheeks were spread, his hole right there in front of Harry's face. Harry's mouth watered at the sight

"Harry, I…"

"Trust me," Harry said, and leaned forward and licked gently across Malfoy's hole. He heard a little gasp from the pillow as he blew cool air across that taut skin and then leaned in again, this time with tiny fluttering licks around Malfoy's hole, circling but never quite touching the puckered skin at the center.

Malfoy was squirming now, but he wasn't pulling away. Harry circled the hole with the tip of his tongue and flicked it right against the center. He heard Malfoy moan into the pillow and he grinned. He'd never met anyone who didn't like this.

He kept licking, applying more pressure, and then pressed his lips around Malfoy's arsehole and drilled into him with the tip of his tongue. He worked his way in slowly with little jabs and licks, and finally felt Malfoy's arsehole relax enough to let him press his tongue inside.

Malfoy was gasping now and Harry reached around to pull at his prick with one hand while the other kept a firm grip on Malfoy's hip. He buried his tongue in Malfoy's arse as deep as it would go, stroked his prick, and hummed into his arse. Malfoy was pushing back against him now, clearly loving it. No one had touched him like this either, no one but Harry, and god Harry's balls were starting to ache just thinking about it.

Malfoy came a minute later, his arsehole spasming around Harry's tongue as he muffled his cries with the pillow. Harry wriggled his tongue as best he could, and then his hand was coated with semen and Malfoy's body lurched forward.

"Oh my god," Malfoy said, his face still pressed into the pillow. His neck was flushed and Harry wasn't sure if he was embarrassed or just recovering. "Um. Wow. I didn't know people did that." He peeked out from under the pillow and grinned at Harry.

Harry laughed and rolled onto his back. His cock was aching and if Malfoy didn't do something about it quickly, he'd pull himself off. "Do you want to take care of this, or should I?"

Malfoy crawled toward him and swallowed his cock in one movement, leaving Harry gasping. It wasn't going to take long, but it could always be better.

"Suck the head and use your hand on the shaft," he said, and Malfoy complied almost instantly. Harry propped himself up on his elbows to watch. "Use your tongue to… yeah, like that. Oh god, that's…"

Malfoy's tongue was massaging the underside of the head in circles, pressing the foreskin against the sensitive part of the head, and then he slipped his tongue underneath and wriggled it gently. Harry gasped as he felt himself hurtling toward the edge, far more quickly than he'd expected. His mouth suddenly wouldn't work and he tangled a hand in Malfoy's hair to warn him.

Coming into that wet heat was glorious, and it was the best orgasm he'd had in months. Malfoy kept working his prick, kept sucking as if he wanted to pull every bit of come from him, and didn't let go until Harry finally collapsed back onto the mattress.

"Give me a minute," Harry said when Malfoy leaned over him with a smug grin on his face. "That was bloody fantastic."

"Good. I've been doing a bit of research, you know."

"What kind of research?"

Malfoy didn't answer, though; he stretched out beside him and tugged the duvet over them both. Harry closed his eyes, suddenly sleepy again. The biology of that always amused him, as if orgasm-induced sleepiness encouraged cavemen to stay in the cave a bit longer than they might have otherwise.

"This is nice," Malfoy said and yawned.

"Mmmm."

.:::::.

"It was when we went on holiday to Greece right after third year." Malfoy paused to pop another grape in his mouth and picked three more off the bunch. "We spent three weeks on Mykonos and it was completely gorgeous. There's a wizarding village there, and Father had let a little flat right by the beach. He organized a cabana and everything."

"Forgive me if I'm having trouble imagining your family on a sunny seaside holiday." Harry picked at the remains of the impromptu picnic spread across the blanket covering the bed. When he'd sent a note telling the house-elves to send enough food for two because he was very hungry, they'd outdone themselves.

"It was the last time we did anything fun together, I can assure you. Anyway, Mother had just cast a dozen sun protection charms on me and I finally had a chance to go swimming. The sea was incredibly blue, god. Have you been?"

"I haven't." He'd barely been anywhere, sadly. He should do something about that one of these days.

"I was walking down to the water and saw a man walking out of it. He was fit, completely gorgeous, and fucking glistening in the sun. And he was wearing this tiny white swimsuit that may as well have been invisible, because it left nothing to the imagination." He paused to grin at Harry and eat another grape. "I stopped in my tracks and just stared at him. I couldn't help it. I'd never seen anyone so magnificent in my entire life. And as he got closer to me, he saw me staring, and he winked at me and said something in Greek or Italian, I've no idea which. Whatever it was it sounded amazing and I got hard."

"This story is finally getting interesting," Harry said with a grin. "Do go on."

"Right there on the beach, surrounded by people, with this bloke all wet and muscled and -- well, he looked down at the tent in my shorts and grinned and said something else, and then kept walking. And I got in the water as fast as I could."

"Was that the first time you knew?"

Malfoy nodded. "I'd heard boys talk about springing one when they saw a cute witch, but I had no idea what they were talking about until then."

Harry plucked a few grapes from the bunch and fed one to Malfoy. "Did you see him again?"

Malfoy shook his head. "But I saw others, and I finally realized that it was more than just a weird feeling. That it meant a lot more." He let Harry feed him another grape, this time capturing Harry's fingers in his mouth as well. "I thought I could forget about it when we went back to England, but of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup, and then everything started happening. Father became fanatical about the Death Eaters rising to power again. I don't know if he suspected anything, but it became very clear that being homosexual was simply not an option."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I took it out on you, don't you remember?"

"I do. Fourth year completely sucked, as I recall."

"Back then I could never have imagined that I could just be myself and that it would be fine. I didn't expect to survive the war and didn't really want to, because what kind of life could I have had? But now the whole world is open." He looked at Harry and smiled. "Whatever happened in the Room of Requirement that day, I'm grateful for it."

"So am I," Harry whispered. Malfoy moved closer and kissed him, and Harry let himself be pushed back against the mattress. He'd forgotten what it felt like to see the future like that, as an open book, full of possibility. He couldn't help but envy Malfoy that, because he wasn't sure it was something he could get back. Life just didn't work that way.

And of course, it meant that their lives might not be going in the same direction at all. But he wasn't going to think about that just yet.

.:::::.

The next few weeks were some of the happiest of Harry's life. Malfoy came to his room a couple of nights a week to perfect his blow job skills, and he was getting quite good. They shared an occasional dual hand job in Harry's office after Malfoy finished marking papers, and Harry resolutely did not think about the future. For all he knew, the relationship would end when Malfoy took his NEWTs. Until then, Harry was going to enjoy the time he got as much as possible.

They were careful to keep their public relationship completely official, and with the NEWTs looming and Malfoy becoming increasingly stressed out about the amount of revising he had to do, it actually wasn't that difficult. In fact, with bit under four weeks left before the exams, it was all Harry could do to get a smile out of Malfoy when he passed him in the corridor.

And so he was caught completely by surprise one evening when he was dragged into a dark alcove by a cloaked Malfoy.

"Shhh, get under," Malfoy whispered, and Harry felt for the edge of the cloak.

"Hi," he said once he was nose-to-nose with Malfoy. "This is a--" He was cut off by a kiss and was pushed against the stone wall.

"I need to taste you," Malfoy said and dropped to his knees.

"Oh god, you…" Harry let his head fall back against the wall as Malfoy tore at his trousers. He fumbled for his wand and cast a muffliato around them, along with a charm that would warn them if anyone wandered close by, and then Malfoy's mouth was around his prick and he couldn't think about anything else.

Malfoy used just the right amount of tongue and just enough pressure, and it felt amazing. Harry pushed his trousers down as far as he could and stepped apart, and the hand on his prick moved to fondle his balls for a moment before moving back to massage the skin just behind them.

"Fuck, that's amazing," Harry whispered. There was just one more thing he wanted, something he hadn't asked for yet. He reached down for Malfoy's hand and pulled it up to his mouth, and sucked on his index finger for a moment before pushing his hand back down. "Finger my arse while you suck me," he whispered.

Malfoy stilled. "I don't want to hurt you."

Harry laughed. "Trust me, it won't hurt. Just make sure it's wet."

A moment later, Malfoy's hand reached behind him and probed between his cheeks.

"It'll be easier to go through my legs," Harry said, and Malfoy shifted on his knees. That hand was back between his thighs then and one wet finger pressed against his arsehole. "Yes, please," Harry whispered, relaxing against the sensation of being breached. Malfoy's finger twisted in and pulled out again and Harry's balls ached from the sheer pleasure of it. Malfoy's finger pressed in again, further this time, and Harry moaned.

"You really like that, don't you?"

"Deeper," Harry said, "and suck me."

His cock was enclosed in wet heat again and that glorious tongue went to work while Malfoy's finger fucked his arse. It was almost enough.

"Another finger," Harry told him, and when Malfoy hesitated he hissed, "Fucking do it, please!" The finger disappeared and after a moment there were two wet fingers pressing into his arse. Harry nearly melted against the wall. "That's so good, you've no idea. Oh, god, that's…"

He came hard and it was all he could do not to howl his release. Malfoy kept him pressed against the wall with one hand on his hip as the fingers in his arse kept moving, fucking him while that mouth worked the head of Harry's cock relentlessly.

Malfoy sat back at last, his fingers still sliding in and out of Harry's arse. He looked up at Harry with wide eyes. "I really want to fuck you."

"Yes," Harry hissed and reached down to grab him by his tie.

The fingers inside him disappeared as he hauled Malfoy to his feet and kissed him roughly. He fumbled at Malfoy's trousers and finally had to break the kiss to look down at what he was doing. Malfoy's prick sprang free at last, and Harry stroked it and looked up at him.

"I want this inside me," he whispered. "I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk straight tomorrow. I want to think about you fucking me against this wall every time I sit down. I want you to come inside me, buried in my arse." He kept stroking, not thinking about what he was doing, just wanting to touch.

"Oh, fuck… " Malfoy said and came all over Harry's hand. He closed his eyes and winced. "I'm sorry."

"Hush," Harry said, trying not to grin. He kissed him softly.

A tingling sensation swept over him and he looked over Malfoy's shoulder: the proximity charm.

"Someone's coming."

They both scrambled to redress, trying to keep the invisibility cloak covering them both as they did. A group of students appeared around the corner, and Harry realized with a start they were walking right towards where Harry and Malfoy were standing.

They edged away from the group as slowly as they could manage. The students went through a door at the back of the alcove, chattering amongst themselves. Harry and Malfoy grinned at each other and then heard more students coming.

"It's some club meeting," Harry said. "I can't remember which one. We can't stay here."

They slowly made their way into the main corridor and once out of sight of the students, Malfoy pulled the cloak away.

"I have to go meet my study group in the library anyway."

Harry gave him a smoldering look. "I meant every word I said, you know. I'm taking a raincheck."

Malfoy's eyes blazed.

"Draco, there you are." They both turned to see Michael Cox walking toward them. "Good evening, Professor," he said as he drew close. His eyes narrowed as they flicked back and forth between Harry and Malfoy.

Harry realized with a start that they both looked suspiciously ruffled. He smoothed his hair down and smiled. Thank Merlin for robes. "I'll leave you to it, then."

"I'll look for that book you recommended," Malfoy said and Harry nodded. "Thanks again, Professor!" He and Michael headed down the corridor.

That had been close, but also exciting. The invisibility cloak lay crumpled on the ground at Harry's feet. He picked it up and folded it before taking it back to his room.

.:::::.

The large brown owl found Harry Saturday morning. He'd awakened early enough to take breakfast in the Great Hall and was sitting at the faculty table listening to Neville prattle on about the Brew Club's recent batch of Hefeweissen when it landed on the table in front of him, looking stern. The note attached to its leg was rather official-looking and Harry felt a wave of trepidation.

He removed it and unrolled it, and leapt to his feet. He apologized to Neville and walked back to his room as quickly as he could, his heart pounding. Once there, he sat on his bed and unfurled the scroll once again.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Your comment is requested on the following story, which will be published in Sunday morning's edition. Please send your reaction by return owl by 8:00 this evening.

Best,
Mathilda Wrackle
Editor-in-Chief
The Daily Prophet

Harry took a deep breath before continuing.

HARRY POTTER'S FORBIDDEN HOGWARTS LOVE AFFAIR

Sources at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry report that the latest gossip sweeping the school is that Harry Potter, defeater of He Who Must Not Be Named a decade ago and currently Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, is romantically involved with seventh-year student Draco Malfoy.

Our readers will recall that Mr. Malfoy, presumed dead until recently, mysteriously reappeared at the school several months ago and has since been attending as a student. Mr. Malfoy, still aged seventeen though born in 1980, has been a student in Mr. Potter's class this term.

Our readers will recall that the two were considered rivals while students together at Hogwarts before the war, but have in recent months become very close, according to our sources.

"It's completely obvious," says one student who wished to remain anonymous. "The way they look at each other, they're clearly in love."

"They spend a lot of time together," says another student. "Malfoy's done an awful lot of detentions for Professor Potter, and comes back to the common room looking quite ruffled, if you know what I mean."

"Student-teacher relationships are not technically illegal when the student is of age," says Bartholomew Crabapple, the legal consultant for the Daily Prophet. "But they are considered highly inappropriate because of the power differential in the relationship. The student is under the control of the teacher and consent to the relationship is thus unclear."

There has not been a case of an inappropriate relationship at Hogwarts since the 1975, when Professor Eliza Gardener was dismissed after her scandalous affair with seventh year student Peter Griffin was exposed. The two have been happily married for 31 years and currently reside in Brighton. They have three children and two grandchildren.

It is the opinion of this publication that Mr. Potter's indiscretions with a student, even considering the extraordinary circumstances, show a flagrant disregard for common decency. Mr. Potter is a role model and a representative of the gay and lesbian community, and such an inappropriate affair with the clearly confused Mr. Malfoy does little to reassure the public that the laws passed in the aftermath of the war, ensuring equality for all witches and wizards regardless of sexual orientation, were in the best interests of our society.

When asked for a comment, Mr. Potter… [YOUR RESPONSE HERE].

Harry flopped back on the bed and groaned.

.:::::.

It was nearly 4:00 when Malfoy knocked on his office door, a full five hours after Harry had sent him an urgent owl. Harry was torn between hugging him in relief and hexing him on the spot.

Malfoy closed the door behind him and took off his wool cloak. "What is it that couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

Harry handed him the scroll from the newspaper and watched his eyebrows disappear under his fringe as he read it.

"Well, fuck," he said at last. "This is inconvenient. What are you going to tell them?"

"I'll deny it, of course."

Malfoy sat in a chair next to Harry's desk and frowned. "Why not tell them we're consenting adults and it's none of their fucking business?"

Harry gave him an incredulous look. "And why don't I just tender my resignation while I'm at it? It would be the end of my teaching career."

"Would that be such a bad thing? You're not happy here anyway."

"That's completely beside the point!"

"So it's better to lie for three more weeks and then come clean when my NEWTs are finished? Or were you planning to keep the denial going over the summer as well?"

"No, of course not." Harry slumped in his chair and sighed. "If I admit to having an affair with a male student, it will only fuel the conservatives who want to repeal the anti-discrimination laws. You know what those people are like, Draco. I can't be responsible for that."

"You won't be responsible for anything. We haven't done anything wrong. Denying it is admitting that you think it's wrong."

"We've both been sneaking around for months. I think that shows we both think it's just a bit wrong."

"We were being discreet! I never thought we were doing anything wrong. Besides, you told me the world had changed, that people like us were accepted now. And at first I didn't believe it, but I've seen the way everyone here is completely accepting."

"Hogwarts isn't the world."

"It's not just Hogwarts, you know. I spent the night at Flora's house last night and--"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You spent the night with Flora?"

"Oh, please, you can't possibly think--"

"No, not that," Harry said with a wave of his hand. "It's just that… she's a Muggleborn, isn't she?"

"Yes. Well, her dads are Muggles. They adopted her when she was a baby, so she has no idea what her blood status is." He paused and shook his head. "Can you imagine not having a clue about your family or even knowing whether or not your parents were wizards?"

Harry gave him a long look. "I can, actually."

Malfoy's cheeks tinted. "Right. Anyway, her dads have been together for twenty years. They have a house, and they have a daughter, and they even got married a few years ago, on the first day the Muggles made it legal. They showed me the pictures."

"What does this have to do with our little problem?"

"It has everything to do with it," Malfoy said, clearly losing patience with Harry now. "Until I met them, I didn't completely understand that I really am just like everyone else, that I could have a life like everyone else. That I deserve it just as much as a straight wizard does." He paused again. "I mean, hell, if gay Muggles get to do it, why not us? Why can't we stand up and tell them we deserve to be happy and to fuck off if they don't like it?"

Harry's brain was still trying to wrap itself around the concept of Malfoy willingly spending an evening with Muggles. "It's only three weeks, and then we can be together and it won't matter who knows."

Malfoy sighed and shook his head. "I've had enough hiding and lying to last a lifetime. I don't want to pretend there's nothing between us until an arbitrary date three weeks from now. Everyone will know that we lied about it, and what does that accomplish?"

He had a point, of course. Harry rubbed at his temples with his fingertips. "Draco… Where do you see this relationship going?"

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"You're seventeen, Draco. You have no idea what you'll be doing in a month, let alone in a few years."

Malfoy took a deep breath. "Well, as it happens, I've been thinking about that. I moved Mother out of St. Mungo's today and into a group home. She's been doing much better, you know. And I was thinking of going to Greece for a while, back to the island I was telling you about. I looked into it today and even found a little house that looked reasonable."

Harry nodded and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "And do what?"

"Figure it all out, basically. What I'm going to do with my life, now that I get to have one." He paused. "I was hoping you would come with me."

"Come to Greece with you?" Harry almost laughed. "I can't just run away."

"For the summer, not forever. You have until September, don't you?"

Harry stared at him for a moment before looking down at his hands. He had plans for the summer: to work on Grimmauld Place and finally get it sold, to catch up with the latest developments in Defense, and to rework the fourth year curriculum a bit. He hadn't yet thought about how Malfoy would fit into any of that. He simply hadn't let himself believe it would last.

He could blow off all of his responsibilities and go to Greece for the summer -- but then what? What would he do in September when term started and he was back at Hogwarts, while Malfoy was starting his life? Was he setting himself up for an incredible heartbreak?

He exhaled slowly. "I care about you, Draco, I really do."

"But." Draco's voice was soft and he didn't look away.

"You're asking a lot and I need to think about it. In the meantime, I don't want to completely wreck my career. We don't have to lie; we can just… refuse to comment. Like you said, it's none of their business."

"That will only make them speculate more, you know."

Harry swallowed. "Which is why we have to give them no reason to speculate."

Malfoy looked away at that. "I see."

"It doesn't mean I don't--"

"Doesn't it?" Malfoy stood and picked up his cloak. "I came here to invite you to spend the summer with me and you're breaking up with me instead."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Harry rushed around the desk and pulled him into a kiss. Malfoy kissed him back with such intensity that it made Harry's head spin. He broke the kiss after a moment and pressed his forehead against Malfoy's cheek. "It's only three weeks. I need a bit of space to figure out what I'm going to do, and I don't want to close any doors if I don't have to." He looked up again and saw that Malfoy looked unusually sad. "Please do this for me."

Malfoy's arms tightened around him and he nodded. "I'll be busy revising anyway, I suppose. What are you going to tell the Prophet?"

"That I have no comment on the matter." He kissed Malfoy again. "Just think of the spectacular sex we can have in three weeks when we don't have to sneak around."

"It's difficult to think about anything beyond these fucking exams hanging over my head. Six NEWTs, seriously? What was I thinking?"

Harry kissed his way down Malfoy's throat as he unfastened his trousers. "Want me to help you relax a bit, then? It's probably our last chance for a while." Malfoy made a sound almost like a laugh as Harry dropped to his knees and planted a kiss on the tip of his prick.

"Only if I can return the favor."

Harry grinned. "I'm counting on it."

Malfoy buried a hand in Harry's hair and sighed.

.:::::.

Minerva McGonagall already looked disappointed in him the moment she opened the door to her office. She gave him a long look before gesturing toward the chair across from her desk.

"I know why you've come," she said as he crossed to sit. "I have my sources at the Prophet."

"I thought it best to tell you in person."

"To tell me what, precisely?"

Harry frowned. He wasn't exactly certain where to begin. He looked up at her after a long moment and her eyes widened.

"Do you mean to tell me it's true?" She sat behind her desk and pinched the bridge of her nose. "This certainly complicates the matter."

"I'm sorry."

"You will be far more sorry after the maelstrom that's about to hit this school." She shook her head and sighed. "I do understand that the circumstances are highly unusual and that you and Mr. Malfoy have a, shall we say, complex history, but I would never have thought you, Harry, would do anything to besmirch the reputation of Hogwarts."

Harry felt eleven years old again under the weight of her disappointment. "I know, Headmistress, and I'm so sorry. If you want me to resign, I will."

She glared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm not requesting your resignation, Mr. Potter. Not today, at any rate. But I will insist that you end your relationship with Mr. Malfoy immediately. It may not be illegal, but it's still--"

"Inappropriate, I know. For what it's worth, I didn't expect this to happen."

"And I would have expected you to show more self-control where a student was concerned."

Harry clenched his jaw. "I've been a teacher here for almost six years. You know that this is an exceptional situation, that I don't look at the students that way."

"I know it, but the public does not. I'm sure I don't have to point out how this will look in light of--"

"You don't. I'm not asking you to accept it, but I am asking you to understand. I know I shouldn't have let it happen, but the fact is I don't look at him and see a student. I see Draco Malfoy, and the years between us melt away. And he's changed so much, you've no idea."

She leaned forward in her chair, studying his face. "Are you in love with him?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Harry stared at the floor, unable to look into her piercing blue eyes any longer. "But that's irrelevant. We've agreed to stop seeing each other until the term is over."

"Did the Prophet ask you to comment on the story?"

"I told them I had no comment to make. I'm not going to lie, but I'm not interested in inviting trouble any more than necessary."

"And Mr. Malfoy?"

"Agrees with me."

She removed her glasses and inspected them for a moment before putting them on again. He'd learned long ago it meant that she was thinking. "All right," she said at last. "The school will officially refuse to comment on the situation, provided that you and Mr. Malfoy do not give anyone a reason to be suspicious until he has taken his exams and is no longer your student. And I would suggest that you keep it quiet for a bit after that as well."

"Thank you, Minerva." He stood to leave.

"One more thing, in case the situation becomes too sticky for comfort. Since you're finishing your sixth year on the faculty, you've earned the right to take a year's sabbatical. Unpaid, of course, but it could give you a bit of space, should you need it."

Harry nodded. "I'll keep it in mind."

.:::::.

The first howler found him on Monday morning. After an extremely uncomfortable dinner in the Great Hall the evening before, he'd decided to take meals in his room for a while, and so he was having a breakfast of tea and toast when the owl pecked on his room's small window.

He winced at the sight of the crimson envelope tied to its leg, but took it and glared the owl away. The envelope grew warmer in his hands as he stared at it. He took a deep breath and opened it.

HARRY POTTER, YOU ARE A FOUL, SICK, DISGUSTING EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD!!! YOU SHOULD BE SACKED IMMEDIATELY AND SENT TO AZKABAN, YOU FILTHY PERVERTED SHIRT-LIFTING--

Harry flicked his wand and the howler burst into flames. It was going to be a long fucking day.

The howlers kept coming all morning, and he managed to incinerate each one before it made a scene. It was a spell he'd learned while working as an Auror; it had come in useful right after he'd come out several years back. Surprisingly, his students seemed far more interested in the fact that he could destroy howlers without having to listen to them than they did in the reported gossip about his love life.

He did, however, get his fair share of giggles and stares, along with a few dirty looks. Groups of students would whisper while looking over at him and then work diligently on their assignments when he drew close. All in all, it wasn't as bad as he'd expected. He'd had far worse days during fifth year.

He didn't see Malfoy at all on Monday. He'd avoided the Great Hall and the most used corridors, not wanting to give the students any further reason to whisper and point. But he wished he could see him for a moment, to know that he was all right. It was so incredibly unfair that they couldn't weather this together.

He was in his office marking papers after his last class when there was a knock on the door. A spark of excitement flitted through his belly at the thought it might be Malfoy, but when he opened the door he saw Flora Whitehall standing there, smiling at him.

"Can I speak with you, Professor?"

"Of course. Come in." If he couldn't see Malfoy, then talking with one of his friends was certainly a good substitute.

She turned towards the open door and raised her wand. "Muffliato. I hope you don't mind? I wanted to speak with you in private, but I reckoned you'd rather not close the door just now." She sat in the chair next to his desk and smiled.

"Of course. Thank you. What did you want to talk about?"

"I just wanted you to know that it wasn't me who talked to the Prophet. I would never do that to Draco, or to you, Professor."

Harry sat behind his desk, surprised. "Well, I certainly didn't think that of you."

"I know how much he cares about you. He's fine, by the way. We're so busy revising now that he's barely been out of the library."

Harry swallowed. "How do you know that he cares about me?"

She bit her lip and looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well… he told me about the two of you, actually." At Harry's look of astonishment, she held up her hands, as if she thought he might hex her. "It wasn't his fault! I pried it out of him, with quite a bit of Midori, actually. He's spent the night at my house a few times, I'm sure he told you."

Harry nodded and tried to ignore the feeling of nausea that was rising in his gut.

"I invited him over because he seemed so lost. I thought it might help him to meet my dads, to see a real gay family, you know? And my dads just adored him, and he asked them so many questions about their lives, about getting married and adopting me. And I suppose I realized that he was thinking about a relationship with someone in particular, so I set out to uncover who it was." She paused and bit her lip before continuing. "I'd been a bit suspicious before, to be honest. I mean, lots of students have crushes on you, but he's the only one you really look at." She raised her eyebrows, and Harry felt his face warm.

Harry sighed. "Is it really that obvious?"

"It was to me, I suppose. But anyway, he swore me to secrecy and I haven't told a soul, I swear. And in case you're thinking it was Michael, it's not possible. He was shattered when Draco broke things off with him, but he'd never do something like that. Honestly, if you look up Hufflepuff in the dictionary, you'll find a picture of Michael Cox."

"I believe you," Harry said, smiling now. "It doesn't matter who talked to the paper; it's done. I don't know if he told you, but we're going to cool it for the rest of term." He paused. "How is he, really?"

"Cool and collected, on the outside. Completely stressed out by NEWTs otherwise, like everyone else. It's a bit mad, though. He's easily the most popular boy in school at the moment and he's taking it all in stride, like it doesn't affect him at all."

"Draco, popular?"

"Well, of course! First it turns out he's not just some cousin of Draco Malfoy, but really is him, who somehow survived the Battle of Hogwarts and travelled through time -- total science fiction stuff. And then he manages to land you and--" She paused and blushed. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean--"

He stifled a grin. "No, please, finish what you were going to say."

She took a deep breath. "Well, it's no secret that you're considered the most, shall we say, shaggable professor at the school." When he gaped at her, she said, "Oh, please, you must know that's true. And you're always so cool, so aloof, and though many have had their crushes, no one ever got so much as look that wasn't completely teacherly. But then Draco literally falls out of the sky and he manages to get in your… I mean, everyone imagines he's shagging you, and well. He's suddenly a hero."

"A hero?" It was all Harry could do to keep the incredulity out of his tone.

"Well, not the way you're a hero, but still. Haven't you noticed the Slytherins strutting about the grounds all day? You'd think they won the House Cup, they're so proud. I even heard they're going to have a fundraiser to commission of portrait of Draco for their common room."

It was appropriately ironic that Malfoy had sailed through each of these potential disasters and came out more well-liked than ever, while Harry's experience had been quite different.

"Wow," was all he could think of to say.

She grinned. "Well, I suppose that's all then. Do you want me to tell him anything for you?"

"Yes. Tell him I miss him."

She stood and flicked her wand to finite the muffliato. "We'll all be glad when these exams are behind us."

"We certainly will. Thanks, Flora."

She winked at him and hefted her rucksack and left, her long brown ponytail swinging over her shoulder.

He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. That was perhaps the strangest conversation he'd ever had with a student. Excluding the conversations he'd had with Malfoy, of course. He was glad Malfoy had a good friend he could lean on, though.

And he had one as well, come to think of it.

.:::::.

"I was wondering when you'd pop by," Neville said as he opened the door to his room. "Drink?"

"Please. Got anything stronger than ale?"

"Nope. I swore off Firewhisky, as you well know. Oh, don't bother blushing now, after all this time."

Harry smiled. "I thought you'd forgotten."

"How could I? You're an amazing kisser, even if you're not my type." He retrieved two bottles from the small cooler in his room and opened them. "I see you've survived the last few days." He handed Harry a bottle.

"Hogwarts isn't a bad place to be when the shit hits the fan, you know." Harry took a swig and smiled at Neville's quizzical look. "Muggle expression. Anyway, with no press allowed on school grounds, it's really only the students and the howlers. And the students tend not to want to annoy me right before exams."

"I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever involved in a terrible scandal. Schedule it right before final exams."

Harry sighed. "Is it really so terrible? I don't feel terrible about it."

"How do you feel?"

"Pissed off, actually. It's fucking unfair that Draco and I can't just be together. We're both adults, for fuck's sake. And yes, I'm his teacher, but he's about to take his NEWTs, which means I'm basically a glorified tutor to him at this point, with absolutely no power over him. And surely it's clear that he's not an ordinary seventh-year, that we're really the same age, and--" He paused to drain half the bottle. "Sorry. It's just frustrating."

"You know how it is, Harry. The homophobes are imagining you bending him over your desk, and they'll likely think this isn't the first time you've done this."

"Would they think any differently if they knew I'm a bottom?"

Neville rolled his eyes. "Too much information, mate. But you know how sex scandals go. This one is not only a gay sex scandal involving one of the most well-known wizards in England, but it's between a teacher and a student. A lot of people won't read the article closely enough to note that Malfoy is an adult. They'll just assume you're a pedophile."

"Which a lot of them think about all gay men anyway, I know."

"A few, Harry. Only a few."

"I think every one of those few sent me a howler today."

"And you survived. To you, Harry." Neville raised his bottle and Harry laughed.

They drank in silence for a few minutes. Harry had always appreciated that he could be quiet with Neville. They could just hang out, no words required, and it was fine. He needed more friends like that.

"Can I ask a personal question?" Neville said at last. Harry nodded, and Neville retrieved new bottles of ale before continuing. "Is it serious between you?"

"I think it could be. It's hard to know, with all the sneaking around."

"I have to say you've been happier these last few months than I've ever seen you. Ever since you and Malfoy started sneaking around, or whatever you're doing, you've seemed genuinely happy." He paused and took a long swig from the bottle. "You're a fantastic teacher, and I'd hate for the school to lose you. But if you have a chance to be happy with Malfoy, then I hope you'll take it."

"You think I should leave Hogwarts?"

"This is an amazing place to live and work, but it's not for everyone. It's especially not for people who are hiding from the world." He looked up from the bottle and locked Harry's gaze. "People have spent their lives hiding here, to no good end."

Harry drained the bottle and slumped in the chair. "I know. I suppose I have been hiding."

"You have the summer to figure it out, at least."

"Longer, actually. I can take a sabbatical."

Neville shrugged. "Then you've nothing to lose."

Nothing but my heart. It had been a long time since he'd risked that.

.:::::.

The next two weeks seemed interminable. Harry counted the days until Malfoy's final NEWT as if he were a child counting the days until Christmas. The Prophet ran a few more stories in the first week with comments from other supposed sources inside the school, but since Harry and Malfoy had all but ignored each other since the story broke, it lost momentum rather quickly. Harry scanned the paper daily and read every article, but it was all rumor and gossip. The paper hadn't dredged up a single shred of proof, to Harry's relief.

It was hell not being able to spend time with Malfoy, though it wasn't as if they would have had much time anyway. Malfoy looked exhausted every time Harry saw him. He spent most of his waking hours in the library, and even studied during meals in the Great Hall. Harry wished he could send him a note, or wave hello, or touch him in passing, but with several hundred pairs of eyes watching them closely every time they were in the same room, it just wasn't possible.

Malfoy dominated Harry's dreams, which simultaneously made it better and worse. The dreams were vivid and sexy, and Harry woke most mornings with a raging erection that required attention in the shower. He wanked like a teenager and felt like an emotional wreck.

And he started thinking about that beautiful island in Greece, with the white sandy beaches and clear blue water, and of making love on warm moonlit nights with the sound of waves crashing just outside the window. It sounded like heaven.

.:::::.

A knock on his office door startled him out of a daydream. "Yes?"

"Hi, Professor." Flora smiled brightly and crossed to hand him a small folded piece of parchment. "This is for you."

He took it and unfolded it to see Malfoy's handwriting. He smiled before he could stop himself and looked up at her. "Thank you."

"Do you mind if I feed the hinkypunks? They looked a little peaked."

He blinked at her. "Erm, all right."

She left in a swirl of Ravenclaw robes and Harry sat back at his desk to read the note.

Harry,

Flora told me that she talked to you, and after she convinced me not to hex her for it, she offered to ferry notes between us. I trust her completely, for what it's worth. She also said you looked utterly miserable, which I must say cheered me up a bit, as I'm miserable as well.

My mind is so full of facts and charms and theories that I've had to start taking a sleeping draught at night. I have no idea why I'm taking all these NEWTs, but if I pass them I'll apparently be qualified for nearly any job I like. What I'd like right now is to spend a few weeks somewhere quiet with you and not think for a change.

I found a little house by the beach in Mykonos, in that wizarding village I was telling you about. I've booked it through September. I hope you'll join me.

Draco

The last part of the message showed signs of the ink having been spelled off and rewritten several times. Harry traced a finger over it and smiled.

He thought for a moment before digging out a blank piece of parchment and writing a return message.

Draco,

I am miserable, completely. These last weeks of term are always nearly unbearable anyway, but of course the current circumstances only make it that much worse.

I think about you and that beach quite often.

Love,
Harry

He folded it and looked out the door into the classroom. Flora was still standing by the cage of hinkypunks, examining her nails. She looked up as he approached.

"Would you mind?" he asked, holding the note out to her.

"Hoo, hoo," she said and winked at him. "My owl impression. Ta, Professor!"

.:::::.

"We wish the seventh year students the very best on their NEWT examinations," McGonagall said, smiling down at the rows of students. "You represent the very best of Hogwarts School and we are all proud of your accomplishments."

There was polite applause from the students, who were anxious to eat and get on with their weekend. Harry always wondered why the Headmistress waited until most of the seventh year students had left before wishing them luck. He scanned the Slytherin table yet again, but there was no sign of Malfoy. Perhaps he was sleeping in, or maybe he was skipping breakfast to study more.

He was on his way out of the Great Hall when he heard his name called out, and he turned to see Flora waving at him. She left the group of girls she'd been talking with and jogged to catch up with him.

"Hello, Professor. May I walk with you? I've a question." It was code for I have a note from Draco.

"Of course."

She led him out into the large courtyard and he winced at the bright sunlight. He hadn't been out much lately.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?" She paused and looked around to be sure they were alone. "This is for you." She generally left him alone to read them, but this time she stood there with a slightly worried expression on her face.

He unfolded the note.

Harry,

I'm moving out this morning. I'm not yet sure where I'll stay, but you can always send an owl if you need to find me. I've exams every day, and two on Wednesday. Merlin, but I'll be relieved when this is done.

I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye in person.

Draco

"Oh," he said, keeping his eyes firmly on the parchment. "I didn't expect him to go."

"Me either," she said with a sigh. "I'm a bit annoyed with him, really. I think he'd just had enough of this place and moved out on a whim."

"I'm surprised you didn't go with him."

"My dads said no," she grumbled. "And it's pointless to go home because we're not connected to the floo network. I could have apparated, but… I'm better off here, especially since all of my friends have left. I'll have no one to distract me from revising. It's a bit of a challenge to prepare for magical exams at home when you're a Muggleborn."

"I can imagine." Harry read the note again, wondering where Malfoy might have gone. The NEWTs were held at the Ministry of Magic since they were open to anyone who paid the fee to take them, and many students moved back home during the exams to better facilitate traveling back and forth. Those who remained had to stick to a strict floo schedule in and out of the Headmistresses' office.

"Anyway, sorry he's being a twat. He's under a lot of stress. Hell, I'm stressed out and I'm only taking four NEWTs. I'm sure by this time next week he'll be his old snarky and delightful self again."

"Will you tell him I said good luck when you see him?"

"I will. Back to studying." She heaved a dramatic sigh and walked back inside.

Harry folded the note and tucked it into a pocket, trying not to feel a bit hurt that Malfoy had left without saying goodbye. But of course, he remembered taking his own NEWTs, and the hellish stress he'd put on himself. Hermione had come quite close to hexing him by the end of the week, in fact. He'd finally sequestered himself in Grimmauld Place.

It would all be over on Friday. He could hardly wait.

.:::::.

Bright and early on Friday morning, Harry sat straight up in bed. He'd dreamt about Greece again, about the blue water and the warm sand, and upon waking realized he had already decided he would go. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but suddenly the idea of not going was almost incomprehensible. Term ended in another week and he had so much packing to do, so many things to put in order first. His office was a mess, so many things to sort through and--

He needed to tell Malfoy. It was an hour before the first exam of the day, and the students remaining at Hogwarts would be flooing to the Ministry soon. Though it was probably better to wait until he knew Malfoy was finished, he didn't want to. He needed to tell him now.

He dressed quickly and made his way to the Headmistress's office. He took the stairs two at a time and was panting when he burst into the room. Flora was in the queue, flipping though a stack of note cards, and he apologized to McGonagall as he pulled her out of line and to the far side of the room.

"Can you tell him something for me?" he whispered and she nodded. "Tell him I'll go."

Her eyes widened and she grinned, obviously fully understanding the meaning of the message. She threw her arms around him and hugged him quickly, then jumped back into the queue, ignoring the curious stares of the others in the room. She gave him a little wave just before she stepped into the fire, and then she was gone.

After that, it was a matter of getting through the day: breakfast in the Great Hall, his first lesson with squirrelly first years who weren't taking the idea of final exams very seriously, then the third years, and then lunch. By mid-afternoon the lessons were finished, and all he had left to do was supervise a group of second years in detention.

"I'd rather be outside on this lovely afternoon as well," he said as they filed glumly into the classroom. "Unfortunately, I have to sit here while you lot write me three feet explaining why training fire slugs to attack on command is a highly inappropriate use of your magical abilities."

The students produced parchments, quills, and ink, and began to write. The room was quiet but for the scratching of quills, and Harry found himself daydreaming over the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. He wondered if Malfoy had smiled when Flora told him. He wondered if she'd told him before the exam, or if she'd waited until after.

He heard the classroom door open and footsteps cross the floor, but he didn't look up to see who was standing there until one of the second years giggled.

"Hi," Draco Malfoy said, grinning at him.

Harry gaped at him, certain for a moment he was dreaming. Malfoy was dressed impeccably in black and green, with an ornate cloak and boots that looked to be made of dragon hide. He looked so completely different than Harry had ever seen him that it was shocking. No school robes, no casual teenager clothes -- he looked like a proper wizard, like a younger, sexier, and far less evil version of his father.

"Hi," Harry said at last. Was he drooling? He should probably wipe his chin to be certain.

"Might I have a word?" Malfoy's eyes blazed and Harry felt a tingle in his groin. "In private?"

Harry looked over at the students, who were hanging on every word with wide eyes. They were terribly perceptive for their age. He waved a hand at them. "You can all leave. Your detention is dismissed, on the condition that you leave the fire slugs to their natural predators in the future."

The students gathered up their belongings and dashed away, either to escape before Harry changed his mind or to rush off and spread this interesting tidbit of gossip around the school. Harry couldn't be arsed to care which. As soon as the door closed behind the last student, he turned and nearly jogged up the stairs to his office.

Malfoy followed and closed the door behind him, then flicked his wand casually at the door. Harry felt the buzz of a silencing spell settle around them. He leaned back against his desk and smiled.

"All finished, then?"

"Yes." Malfoy removed his cloak and draped it carefully over a chair, and stalked toward him. "A few hours ago, in fact. I got your message."

"Good."

"And I do believe I owe you a raincheck." He smirked and unfastened the buttons at the collar of his shirt.

Harry opened his mouth, but no words came out. His cock was rock-hard inside his trousers, and he could only stare as Malfoy closed the final few feet between them and pushed Harry's robe off of his shoulders.

"You asked me to fuck you so hard you wouldn't be able to walk the next day. Is that correct… Professor?"

Harry nodded, and then Malfoy leaned in so close they were only inches apart.

"I've always wanted to fuck you on this desk," Malfoy whispered just before crushing his lips against Harry's.

Harry felt like he was floating for a moment -- the kiss actually made him light-headed. One of Malfoy's hands tangled in the hair at the back of his head and the other was pressing his thighs apart so he could stand between them.

Harry moaned and reached down to unfasten Malfoy's trousers. It wasn't a simple zip, though, and after a minute he fished for his wand on the desk and cast a quick spell, sending the buttons flying.

Malfoy laughed and broke this kiss. "You could have asked, you know, rather than ruin a brand new pair of trousers."

"I'll buy you another pair," Harry said, pushing his own trousers down to his knees. "Come here." He pulled Malfoy back against him and managed to get a hand around both their pricks. He nearly melted on the first stroke, and Malfoy whimpered.

"I wanked right before I came," he whispered as Harry stroked, "but if you keep that up this won't last long."

"Have you got something?"

Malfoy fumbled in his pocket and produced a vial. "Picked it up last night. I've been thinking about this for weeks, you know."

Harry turned in his arms and leaned across the desk, pressing his arse back against Malfoy's cock. "Then let's not waste any more time." He felt Malfoy's fingers trembling as they pressed into him, slick and cool. "That's fine, enough, just fuck me now, please." The last word came out a bit whingy, but he didn't care. God, he wanted this. God.

He could hear the sound of Malfoy's breathing as the slick head of his prick pressed against Harry's arsehole and then pushed forward. Harry pushed back, bearing down and forcing himself to relax as Malfoy's cock breached his body. It had been a while since he'd been fucked like this, and his fingers in the shower were certainly no comparison. He groaned and pressed his cheek against what was probably his fourth years' essays on patronus charms. Malfoy paused with the head of his cock just inside, stretching Harry's hole open.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Malfoy's voice was taut, though he sounded genuinely concerned.

"Absolutely not." Harry pushed back on Malfoy's slicked cock and felt the glorious slide as it filled him.

"Why didn't we do this earlier? Oh, fuck, that's good." Malfoy pulled back, stopping just before the head popped out completely, and slowly pushed in again. Harry could almost imagine him watching his cock push in and out, marveling at the sight of himself fucking another person. For the first time, Harry reminded himself -- Malfoy hadn't done this before. Malfoy went still.

"Is something wrong?"

"Sorry, I… I'm not going to last long."

"Then fuck me, hard."

Malfoy didn't have to be asked twice. He clenched Harry's hips and pumped into him, varying the depth and the angle as if trying to figure out what felt best. Every now and then he brushed Harry's prostate and Harry saw stars. There would be time to explain that part later. Right now, it was about Malfoy.

"I really want to see you," Malfoy said, slowing down his movements again. "Can we do it face to face?"

Harry pulled away enough for Malfoy's prick to slide out and kicked off his trousers. He hopped up on the desk and leaned back across it, pulling his knees up and open. He grinned at Malfoy. "Like this?"

Malfoy's eyes blazed. "Yeah, like that." His eyes raked over Harry, lingering on his cock for a moment before he leaned down and took it in his mouth.

Harry gasped at the sensation. "Oh, I missed your mouth. Fuck, that's good." Malfoy was amazingly proficient at cocksucking now and he knew exactly what Harry liked. Moreover, he seemed to really enjoy it, and Harry loved watching him take such pleasure in it almost as much as he liked getting it. Almost. He was suddenly very close to coming and he had to push Malfoy away. "Not like that, no. I want to come with your cock inside me."

Malfoy paused to add more lube and then Harry felt his prick push inside again, stroking right against his prostate in this position.

"Oh my god," Harry said, closing his eyes. He was still on the edge of coming and it felt like he was hanging in midair, suspended. "Just like that, right there, keep moving…"

Malfoy pushed in three more times and Harry felt the tightening, the heat, the quick waves from his balls outward, and then it was unstoppable. He cried out, dimly aware that Malfoy was pounding into him now, and came without even touching his cock.

Malfoy came a minute later with short jagged thrusts, his fingernails digging into Harry's skin to the point of pain. They stared at each other, panting.

"That was amazing," Harry said, smiling at him. Malfoy's prick was softening inside him now, and a moment later it slipped out. Harry sat up, resolving to incendio the student work they'd just had sex all over, and pulled Malfoy into his arms. "Want to do it again?"

"Absolutely." Malfoy kissed him softly and Harry whimpered at the gentle sweep of his tongue, that same tongue that had worked his cock so expertly a few minutes before. He broke the kiss after a moment and pulled Harry tightly against him. "I have a party to go to tonight. Most of the seventh years will be there, celebrating the end of Hell Week. I'd invite you, but I'm fairly certain you wouldn't come."

"I have absolutely no desire to be the only teacher at a student party," Harry said with a laugh. "I've got to finish getting everything ready for final exams anyway."

"When are you finished here?"

"A week from Sunday."

"Good, because I've arranged a portkey to Greece for the two of us on that Monday morning."

Harry grinned and kissed him again. "I can't wait."

"In the meantime…" Malfoy paused to pull up his trousers and then fished in his pocket. He pressed something long and cool into Harry's hand and closed his fingers around it. "I'm in room 23 at the Leaky Cauldron. I expect a visit tomorrow night, say around nine?"

"I'll be there." Harry pocketed the key and dove in for one more kiss.

Malfoy sighed, and his eyes were still closed for a moment after Harry pulled away again. "You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"You said that if I came back to Hogwarts, I could do anything, that I could have any kind of life I could imagine."

"I said that?"

"More or less. The point is, it's happening. I feel like my life is starting, finally."

Harry smiled. "In an odd way, so do I."

.:::::.

[TWO MONTHS LATER…]

Harry yawned and aimed his wand up to adjust the tilt of the umbrella. The beach in Platis Gialos was oddly quiet today. Only the distant laughing of children interrupted the rhythmic lapping of waves on the pale sand. The turquoise water stretched out before him, startlingly clear and blue compared to the Black Lake at Hogwarts.

This place was completely different from Hogwarts in almost every way. Harry liked that very much.

He glanced at his watch: it was nearly 2:00 in the afternoon. Surely Draco would be awake by now. He'd stayed up until dawn writing, claiming to have found some inspiration in the sex they'd had just after midnight. Harry gathered his things and walked up the beach to the little house they'd rented.

He paused outside the door to wash the sand off his feet under the low faucet there, already thinking about lunch. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until standing up, oddly, and he was suddenly famished.

"Why don't you just use magic? It does a better job of it."

He looked up to see Draco watching him from inside the screened door.

"I like the way it feels, I suppose." He turned off the water and opened the door, noticing now that Draco was completely nude. "Enjoying having some privacy again?"

"God, yes. Not that all the visitors haven't been fun, but I'm so ready to have the place all to ourselves again."

Harry pulled him into an embrace and slid one hand down his back and over the swell of his arse. "I'm ready to have you all to myself again."

"Mmmm, are you?" Draco kissed him and Harry felt a stirring in his groin.

"Can we eat first? I'm starving."

"I was just about to fix myself a sandwich. I think we still have some of that amazing salami from the market."

The table was covered with papers and magazines, including a copy of Witch Weekly with a picture of Harry and Draco smiling up from the cover. The words Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy: Exclusive Photos From Their Romantic Seaside Retreat! sparkled across the bottom. Harry shook his head and tossed it on top of the stack as he cleared space for them to eat at the table.

"I can't wait to read the letters section of the next issue," Draco said as he set plates and wine glasses on the table. "It should be quite entertaining."

"I still can't believe they paid us so much gold for an exclusive. Are we really interesting enough to merit a thousand galleons?"

"Of course we are, especially since the Prophet did that front page story on how we'd run off to Greece together."

That had apparently caused a bit of an uproar back in England. Harry was glad he'd missed it, though he'd found all the newspaper clippings Neville had sent (with his own inked-in commentary) highly entertaining.

Malfoy sighed. "I could have got a lot more if you'd let me negotiate with them."

Harry smiled. "At least the photographer was nice."

"Ooh, we still have some of those olives," Draco said, rummaging in the fridge. He ferried several containers of food to the table while Harry opened a bottle of local wine, and they settled at the table with their impromptu picnic.

Harry marveled at how lovely even this simple meal was. Especially when he was sitting across from his gorgeous, naked, and uncharacteristically tanned boyfriend.

"I got a long-distance owl from Flora this morning. She just got home and wishes she were still here."

Harry snorted. "As do half the men on that beach, I'm sure." Draco rolled his eyes and Harry grinned. "I heard a few of them talking about erecting a statue of her, right down there at the edge of the cove."

"Actually, I was thinking we could put a commemorative plaque above the door of the guest bedroom," Draco said without missing a beat. "To honor her many conquests."

"Was it 7 or 8? I lost count."

"Nine, actually. In one week."

Harry burst out laughing and Draco grinned. After a handful of Draco's seventh year friends had come to stay a long weekend here and there, Harry had been looking forward to Flora's visit. On the first morning, he'd had to pick his jaw up from the floor when she emerged from the guest room in a tiny bikini -- he'd never imagined that under those Ravenclaw robes she had the body of an underwear model. She'd lost the top the moment she hit the beach, and he'd spent the next week learning far more about his former student than he'd ever expected to.

Draco had apparently known she was rather promiscuous beforehand and hadn't bothered to give Harry a warning. Luckily the walls between the two bedrooms upstairs were thick, but even so he and Draco were well aware of when she had company.

"I still can't believe you told her so much about our sex life," Harry said, wincing at the memory of one drunken conversation the three of them had a few nights ago.

"Didn't you wonder why I improved so quickly at giving head? She gave me quite a few useful tips, which I seem to recall you enjoyed."

"At the moment it's difficult to get past the idea of the two of you huddled in the library, discussing the best techniques to fellate your professor."

"We never talked about it in the library, honestly. Too many ears in there. Did I ever tell you that she thanked me for telling her how much you liked the finger-in-the-arse thing?"

Harry stared at him. "I wish you hadn't told me just now, actually."

"She tried it one night on--"

"No names, for fuck's sake!"

"--and he apparently followed her around like a puppy for a solid week. Oh come on, Harry, she knows you take it up the arse anyway. What does it matter?"

Harry buried his face in his hands.

"Anyway, I love her to death, but I'm glad she's gone. I really wanted to get back to my book, and that wasn't going to happen with Tropical Storm Flora whirling her tits about."

"I saw enough of her tits to last me a lifetime," Harry said. "Speaking of the book…" He reached into the bag he'd brought back from the beach and pulled out the shiny laptop Draco had utterly shocked him by buying right before they left England. If only he could find a Wi-Fi signal -- Hermione had been haranguing him about getting an account on something called Facebook.

"Yes, tell me what you think," Draco said, grinning.

"It's quite good, actually. Your writing is very engaging." He opened the laptop and waited for the document to appear on the screen, then scrolled to a particular point in the text. "But I have to say I'm not completely comfortable with the part where you claim we had a secret fling while we were students together at Hogwarts."

"Half the books about you state that I switched sides at the end, which we both know is not true."

"But I didn't write them, and that story came from your friend Greg, not me. It didn't seem worth it to contradict it, not when you were dead and all."

"My point is that it was what people wanted to hear. It may as well be the truth. Hell, I wish it was the truth. And I wish I'd followed through at least one of the times I wanted so desperately to kiss you in sixth year. Why not pretend I actually did?"

"Because you didn't!"

"If people think we were already a couple before I died, they'll forgive you for shagging me while I was a student. It'll seem like a star-crossed romance. People love that shit. And that way, when you go back to teaching--"

"I'm not going to," Harry said. Draco gaped at him and Harry grinned. "I haven't told McGonagall yet -- I thought it best to wait until I'm well into the sabbatical. Besides, for all I know you'll decide you want to teach as well, so there's no need to resign just yet."

Draco was still gaping and Harry laughed. He stood and pushed off his swim trunks -- which were about all he wore anymore -- and straddled Draco's lap. He wrapped his fingers around both their cocks and stroked until they were hard, and Draco groaned.

"Say something," Harry whispered as he massaged the heads of their pricks together.

"Accio lube." Draco held out his hand and a bottle a few feet away on the countertop flew into it.

"Mmm, I love it when you do wandless magic. But that's not what I meant."

Draco's hand reached under him and pressed one finger inside, and the magical lube warmed and relaxed his muscles instantly. Harry lifted his hips and let Draco line up his prick, and he sat down on it slowly. He closed his eyes at the sensation and they stayed like for several moments, not moving -- just connected.

"Want to stay here a few more months?" Draco asked at last, and Harry opened his eyes. "I could write and you could sit on my cock for hours at a time." He grinned.

"And when we're not having sex? Ooh, maybe we could move here permanently and open a bed and breakfast. We could buy this place and invite your friends back, but charge them this time."

"We don't even speak Greek."

"A tiny wrinkle." Harry leaned down to kiss him. "I have no idea what I want to do, but honestly, as long as I'm with you I don't care." He pushed up with his feet and slid down on Draco's cock, and Draco groaned. The angle was awkward -- it was better when he faced out -- but at the moment it wasn't about getting off. They could take their time now.

Harry moved slowly as Draco began to stroke his prick, and they stared at each other.

"I love you," Draco said at last.

Harry smiled.

.:::::.

FIN