Summary:One night of seeing Draco Malfoy in some twisted sense of vulnerability & Harry Potter begins the slow decent of falling in love with his childhood nemesis. But there is a problem...aside from the obvious idea that Draco wants nothing to do with Harry...there is something else. Something neither boy could have ever foreseen. Something that could not only tear them apart but end the life of one of them...


Disclaimer:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Many thanks to my lovely BetaLunaParvulus. This story is a birthday present fordarkmosmordreheartbecause it is her…well…birthday on Sun. I know I know…you are all wondering why it is I am posting this now. Well you see she is out of town and has written me a story for my birthday, which is today. So I figured what the hey…she'll post my story on her bday I'll post hers on mine! This is a multi chap fic. I did not intend for it to work out this way but…hey….muse made me!

But Anyway!! To stop my blabbering! On with the story!

Flames? I hate.

Reviews? I love.

It's my birthday…show me some love.

Ever lovin'


My Side Of The Bed

"Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself...

Oh Alcohol I still drink to your health...

I love you more then I did the week before...

I discovered Alcohol."

Alcohol--Barenaked Ladies

Chapter 1: And Away We Go…

This was ridiculous. Here Harry was, on the one night he had gotten off from all the celebrations and funerals, chasing around a drunken Malfoy. In his ownroom!

"Dammit Malfoy just hold still!" The Savior hissed; he truly did not want to deal with this right now, or ever really. Harry just wanted three fucking seconds alone where he didn't have seventy-five million people asking about his defeat of the Dark Lord.

He snorted mentally; at very least the latter part of his wish was being granted. Malfoy was certainly not asking about Voldemort's fall. No, he was far too busy working on his own. The blond had attempted accidental suicide—twice—by almost falling out the opened window. It didn't occur to Harry, until now that is, to close the damn thing.

Harry's inner Ron stated that perhaps he wanted Malfoy to fall out the window. The emerald-eyed teen scolded himself. How could he even think about something like that?

"I'm am!" The Ice Prince slurred, promptly stumbling a good six feet to the side, before smacking into a wall. Malfoy looked at the stones and mumbled what had to be an 'excuse me' and began to walk forward again. Harry stopped for a moment. How was it that the Ferret had more manners toward an inanimate object then Harry himself?

He shook his head and started after the blonde again. Not more than half an hour ago, Harry was sitting in his personal rooms, enjoying the little bit of silence he had, when Malfoy banged on his door and invited himself right in, somehow managing to find Harry's potato crisps he kept locked away.

The only thing he actually missed from the Muggle world. A few weeks ago he, Hermione, and Ron had gone out to downtown Surrey to get away from all the pestering questions, and Harry had stocked up on the few Muggle foods he liked from the local market.

And now, Malfoy, the great greedy git he was, was inhaling them like they were…like they were…something inhaleable! Harry shook his head again; all too aware that wasn't even a word.

"These are lovely shits." The silver-eyed boy informed him, stuffing his mouth full of another handful of crisps.

Harry looked at him, somewhere in the back of his mind Harry did note that this was the oddest thing he had ever seen, or at least it was part of the top five. Draco Malfoy, Mr. I-wear-a-mask-all-the-times-and-can't-show-an-ounce-of-emotion, was walking—well swaggering really—all over Harry's room and acting completely nutters.

"You mean crisps." Harry corrected after a moment.

The blonde stopped moving and looked at him, still swaying. "Tha's what I said, shits."



The brunet groaned, "It's crisps Malfoy. Cr-isps."

"S' wha' I said Potter." Malfoy insisted. At very least this oh-so-riveting conversation had stopped Malfoy from jaunting about like some loon.

"No…say it with me Cr."

The Slytherin blinked, but repeated him. "Cr."



"Cr-isps" Harry said, oddly excited about this whole idea of teaching Malfoy a new word in his drunken stupor.



"Shits!" Malfoy shouted proudly.

So much for that.

Harry smacked a hand to his own forehead and went after the blond again, who suddenly decided it would be wise to drop the bag on the floor and stomp on it. Malfoy seemed to decide he liked the lovely crunching noises the crisps made, for he stomped again. And again. Until Harry finally decided he had had enough,

"Malfoy why in hell's name did you decide it would be smart to get so bloody knackered?"

The other teen looked at him—slightly disgruntled— and stumbled away; toward the other end of the room, "M' not knackered, just a little…incapa…incapa…incapaci--tated."

"Right…of course. Incapacitated. Well then why did you drink yourself into this incapacitation?" Harry questioned.

"I'm celebrating!" Malfoy declared and sat down on Harry's sofa with a great thump.

Harry stopped moving, relieved Malfoy had done the same. "What are you celebrating exactly?"

"The death of my father of course!"

The brunet actually flinched at his counterpart's words. Even in Malfoy's current situation, Harry couldn't decipher if the other was being honest or not.

"Why … why would you want to celebrate that?"

The pale boy raised a hand to his mouth, and then blinked at it owlishly, "Thought I had some more…" he mumbled and then Harry's words seemed to catch up with him. "Lucius Malfoy was a right arsehole if there ever was one. In fact he was the mayor…no! The God of arsehole-ville!" Malfoy nodded in his own conformation and got up, somehow making his way to Harry.

The green-eyed boy started to move back but then thought better of it. He didn't really want Malfoy to fall flat on his face—not that he really cared about him or anything—but Malfoy had, after all, lost everyone in the War. His mother, his father, and Severus. It suddenly occurred to Harry that even with all his bragging, Malfoy didn't honestly have anyone who truly cared for him.

Harry, himself, despite his faults, had many people who cared for him and he thanked Merlin every day for it. It didn't seem right to Harry though, granted Malfoy was Malfoy. But during the last few months of the War, the ferret had somewhat, on a very miniscule level, become who Harry assumed to be Draco.

Somewhere between Dumbledore's death and receiving the Dark-Mark, Malfoy…Draco, decided to become a spy for the Light side. Like every one else, especially after Draco did get the Dark Mark, Harry was very suspicious about the whole thing. But Draco had done a lot to prove himself; in fact the whole reason he had gotten Voldemort's mark was to convince the Dark Lord he was serious about becoming a Death Eater and in turn gave the Order of The Phoenix more information on Voldemort.

"Malfoy, your Father died a month ago."

The blond gave him an incredulous look, "I know that Harry…I just haven't had time to celebrate properly."

"Why not?"

"Because I have been at the Ministry of Magic trying to clear my name…blasted tattoo is a pain in the arse." The blond laughed abruptly; "I say the word arse a lot."

Harry suddenly felt hot anger sear through him, "Are they trying to convict you?"

Another skeptical expression crossed Draco's handsome face, "Well duh. You didn't think they would let the last of the Malfoy family slip out of the War unscathed did you?" Draco got up again and fell right back down.

"Of course I did! You didn't come out unscathed! You lost people just like the rest of us did! You have to have that Mark the rest of your life!"

Something like wonder settled on Draco's features, "I suppose you are correct Harry."

"Damn right I'm correct! I'm going to have a little chat with the Ministry tomorrow." The brunet vowed.

Draco offered him a lopsided grin, "Why Potter…I didn't know you cared."

The statement was undoubtedly sarcastic but Harry let it go. It wasn't like he did care, no, he was just…he was Harry Potter! And Harry Potter fought for justice.

Harry rolled his eyes inwardly. He sounded like some daft superhero; all he needed now was some tights, a cape, and a damsel in distress, falling off a building. Harry shook his head again and looked up, and lunged forward, catching Draco who had decided it was suddenly necessary to use the back of Harry's couch as a balancing beam.

The Slytherin landed smoothly in his arms, his hands gently clutching Harry's shoulders. Draco looked at the brunet and smiled brilliantly. Despite his current situation, Harry felt something tug at his heart and he smiled back.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are quite handsome Harry?"

"Um…I've heard it once or twice." The bronze boy mumbled, his face heating. Draco smiled wider and leaned forward, kissing one of Harry's reddened cheeks.

"Well they were right…as am I. Set me down please?"

Harry blinked rapidly but did as he was asked, a part of him not really wanting to. He shook off the feeling of the blonde's lips against his skin, cursing himself. This was Draco Malfoy, of all people. The Slytherin Ice Prince! The Amazing Bouncing Ferret! The Git of all Gits! And the only person who, aside from right now, didn't treat him any different then they had before. Even Ron and Hermione were different around him.

The brunet groaned, not this of all things. He did not need to get a crush of the one person who was completely and utterly unattainable and currently trying to fall out the window, for the third time that night.

"Draco dammit!" Harry shot across the room and grabbed the blond by the back of his shirt, yanking him back hard.

In turn, the force of Draco's weight and Harry's pull caused both of them to fall backwards, Harry catching on the arm of the sofa and Draco sprawling on top of him. The slender boy gave an 'oomph' and proceeded to get up, rolling off the floor and crashing into the table.

"Ouch!" he shouted and then wonder of all wonders, Draco Malfoy sniffed.

Harry clambered off and put a hand on the other's shoulder, "Draco, are you ok?"

Large silver eyes looked at him; "I hurt my elbow." He said, pale lips trembling.

He wasn't serious was he? Draco was not going to cry because he hurt his elbow, was he?

"Uh…um…it's okay Draco. You'll be okay." Harry patted him awkwardly, and Draco suddenly broke down, sobbing wildly and grabbing onto Harry's shirt, crying into his chest.

This, was not happening. Did Harry fall in some alternate universe and he didn't realize it?

"He hated me Harry!" The blond suddenly wailed, maneuvering himself into the other's lap and crying harder.

Alright, so he wasn't crying about his elbow. That gave Harry a small sense of relief but still, this was a weird situation. "Who hated you Draco?"

"Lucius did! I was never enough!" The Slytherin cried, "I was supposed to befriend you and failed at that! Then I was supposed to be the best student but Granger beat me at that and I was never good enough Harry! Not even one, little measly time! And I tried…I swear I tried so hard to be the best. At something…at anything!" More tears wet Harry's chest and he felt his throat constrict. "I tried for you Father…I really did…"

Harry tried to get past the lump in his throat, but he couldn't. How often was Draco the victim of that disapproving stare from someone who was supposed to love you unconditionally? Harry knew that look all to well; Vernon and Petunia had given it to him often enough. But at very least he had the Weasley family and Sirius—though his Godfather had only been around a short while—to give him love, no matter how often or how much he managed to screw up.

"It's alright Draco…" Harry rubbed the smaller boys back and pulled him closer, tucking the blond's head under his chin. "You're safe now. He's not going to harm you anymore."

Eventually the pale boy's tears died away and he sniffled; Draco nuzzled into Harry's warm, slightly damp chest.

'I could get used to this…' Harry thought then he mentally slapped himself. What in heavens name was he thinking?

"Oh dear…" he heard Draco mumbled and then suddenly he was scrambling off Harry's lap. Draco then landed a fairly good punch to Harry's stomach, narrowly missing his crotch. Then Harry heard what the 'oh dear' was about as Draco hurtled into the loo and dumped all the contents in his stomach into the toilet.

The Gryffindor winced and got up, making his way toward the blonde and rubbed his back in soothing circles. Absently Harry charmed himself a cool washrag and pressed it gently to the back of Draco's fevered neck. Draco let out the last of it and fell back, Harry catching him again. The brunet scooped him up and mumbled a spell to clean Draco's mouth. "Thank you." The blond sniffed and shifted himself to sit more comfortably in Harry's arms.

Harry smiled softly and shook his head. This was absolutely mad! If Malfoy ever found out what had happened he would have Harry's head on a silver platter. Nonetheless, The Savior was going to enjoy his time with the other boy, no matter how short it was. He found he liked taking care of someone in such a mundane manner.

The brunet gently set Draco down on his bed and removed his robes. At least Draco was wearing an undershirt and a pair of slacks.

Too bad he wasn't wearing any boxers. Harry felt his face heat considerably; he had assumed Draco wore knickers and intended to remove the other boy's pants to make him more comfortable. Now all he saw was a half-naked Draco.

Not that he really minded; Draco was lovely looking. Long, strong thighs, sharp hipbones, and a stunning, good size cock nestled in a thatch of blonde hair.

"Oops!" Draco laughed, looking at Harry coyly, "Must have forgot."

Harry cleared his throat and pulled Draco's pants back on, in which the blond immediately shoved back down.

"I don't like those. Give me a pair of your sleep pants Harry…please?"

"Uh…yeah…ok." Harry wandered over to his dresser; all too aware that the image of the half-nude blond would stay burned into his mind for the rest of eternity. He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out two pairs of pants, one for himself and the other for Draco.

He handed the green pair to the other boy; "Here you go."

"Thank you Harry." Draco smiled and got up, pulling them on.

The Gryffindor smiled weakly back and left for the bathroom, intent on changing his clothes.

Not five minutes later, he was back outside the safe confines of the loo and stared at Draco who was propped up against Harry's midnight colored sheets. Harry felt his heart nearly stop and right at that moment he decided he was going to make Draco his.

Never mind any crazy ideas of sending Draco away to sleep in his own room. It was late and very cold out, what would happen if Draco somehow made his way outside and slipped and fell? He could die of hypothermia! And aside from that Harry liked the feel of his arms around the other boy. No, he loved the feel of his arms around the other boy.

Draco was frowning at him and he patted the spot to the right of him; Harry smiled and moved forward, settling on the bed. Harry laid back and pulled the covers over himself; he raised a hand and extinguished the light, just as he did he felt his glasses slip off. Draco leaned over him, setting his frames on the small table next to the bed and then cuddled into his arms, falling asleep not a minute later. Harry followed soon after.