Author Note: This is the final chapter of this story; hope you all enjoyed it. Just a warning to let you know there will be some boy on boy sex towards the end of the chapter, so if you are the sensitive type, don't read!

Hermione was furious. She stormed out of the common room, down the stairs and headed out into the school grounds. Wrapping her cloak tighter around her body, she let out a cry of pure frustration, which startled several passing first years.

Once outside, she was at a bit of a loss. There had been no real plan behind her movements, other than to get as far away from Ron Weasley as was humanly possible.

After much coaxing, she had finally persuaded Harry to share the details of his conversation with Ron. Neither of them had expected their friend to take the news well, but Hermione was stunned to hear some of the things that had come out of her boyfriend's mouth. No wonder he had remained so tight lipped on the subject.

Despite Harry's protestations, she immediately hunted Ron down and confronted him with his actions. She had promised Draco that she would try her best to sort things out between the two boys, but that would have to wait until she had finished reading Ron the riot act.

The conversation had not gone well, to say the least. When taxed with his behaviour, Ron had decided that attack was the best form of defence. He had accepted no responsibility for the breakdown of the friendship, and even went so far as to accuse Hermione of betraying him, and his family, by befriending Draco herself.

The final straw had come when Hermione freely admitted to encouraging Harry to pursue his relationship with Draco. Ron had gone white with rage and even went so far as to raise his wand against her.

He was no match for Hermione though. She had quickly disarmed her boyfriend before he could do anything more stupid than he had already. The shocked look on Ron's face, as he realised what he had done, went some way to calming her anger. But she still informed him, in icy tones, that their relationship was over.

Then, flinging his wand to the floor at his feet, she had exited the room with as much dignity as she could muster, while trying desperately to control her emotions.

By the time she had reached the edge of the lake, Hermione's anger had given way to sadness. Blinking back tears, she sat down on a nearby log and cried heartbrokenly.

Both Harry and Hermione had made him swear to stay away from Ron, but Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.

It was difficult because Draco knew that Weasley had some very legitimate grudges against him, and if he was honest, he would not have been so quick to forgive if the situation had been reversed.

But that apart, the Weasel was hurting people that Draco cared about and he wasn't about to let that continue.

It was almost two weeks since the row with Hermione, and Draco, mindful of his promise, had endured an onslaught of murderous glares, sneering comments and thinly veiled attempts to trip or knock into him at every available opportunity.

Frankly, he was amazed that he had lasted this long. The Draco of old would have hexed the prat outright and been done with it. Actually, Draco reflected, what he would have done was have Crabbe and Goyle beat the crap out of Weasley. But, sadly, that was no longer an option.

Draco had endured more insults than it was reasonable to expect him to tolerate. But he had done it for Harry. In fact, the final action that had tipped him over the edge was an attack on Harry rather than himself.

Well, not so much of an attack, really, more of a Tripping Jinx. Harry had been making his way to Slughorn's desk, carrying a flask of their completed potion, when Weasley had seen fit to send him flying.

Harry wasn't hurt, just a little embarrassed, but that wasn't the point for Draco. Whilst he had willingly tolerated various attacks on his person, no one touched Harry.

With something akin to a growl, Draco launched at Weasley and sent him flying with a right hook to the jaw.

"You don't ever touch him again, you worthless piece of shit," Draco snarled, looming large over Ron's prone figure and giving him a swift kick to the guts for good measure

"Don't worry. I have no intention of it. Not now I know where he's been." Ron spat a mouthful of blood onto the dungeon floor and glared at his attacker.

At this, Draco pulled his arm back, as if to inflict further damage.

"Draco! No!" Harry cried out, running over and crouching at Ron's side. "Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.

Ron smirked up at Draco as Harry helped him up off the floor. Draco just watched, stunned, as Harry fussed over the boy who had just sent him flying across a crowded classroom, and ignored him, the caring boyfriend who had defended his honour.

He flung Hermione's calming hand off his arm and began to walk away. "Draco, stop," she called after him.

He stopped and turned to face her, his expression a blank mask. "What for?" he asked tonelessly. "There's obviously nothing here for me."

Ron allowed Harry to tend to him until he saw that Draco had walked away. Then, he pushed Harry away with force. "Get off me, queer," he sneered. "You better run after your little boyfriend. He doesn't look very happy with you."

Harry reeled back as though he had been slapped. He stared at Ron's angry face in stunned disbelief, before turning on his heel and fleeing the scene.

A deeply unpleasant smirk spread across Ron's face. But it was short lived, as Hermione's hand swiftly wiped it off.

When Harry got back to their room, there was no sign of Draco. He fumbled in his trunk for a few moments, before finally locating the Marauder's Map.

Saying the incantation, he waited impatiently as the spidery lines fanned out across the parchment, revealing the familiar map of Hogwarts. Harry checked all the more obvious places, but could find no sign of his boyfriend. With a heavy heart, he even reluctantly checked both Ernie MacMillan and Theodore Nott's rooms. He didn't really think Draco would have gone to either of them, but he couldn't deny the relief that swept through him when both rooms showed blank.

Most of the other students were heading to the Great Hall for dinner, so the map was more than a little busy, making it very hard to check. Just as he was going to give up, Harry finally located Draco's dot in the Headmistress's office.

Assuming that Professor Slughorn had reported the earlier fight, and hoping Professor McGonagall was not too hard on his boyfriend, Harry settled down to wait for Draco's return. He would have to come back to their room at some point, even if it was only to sleep.

Now that he had time to think, Harry cursed his earlier stupidity. Of course Draco was angry with him. Hitting Ron was the sort of impulsive action that he might have taken himself, if the situation had been reversed. Draco had been defending him, and instead of showing his gratitude, he had gone to Ron's aid instead. It must have looked to Draco like he was picking a side.

Just the thought of Ron made Harry feel sick. How someone he had known so well, and for such a long time, could become so totally unrecognisable, just baffled him.

Yes, he was still grieving for Fred, but so was Ginny, and she hadn't reacted in this way. In fact, she had actually gone out of her way to get to know Draco.

It wasn't so much the name calling that bothered Harry; he knew Ron didn't really care that he was gay. It was the malicious intent behind the words and actions. Ron was becoming the very thing that he still accused Draco of being. Except that Draco had been a product of his upbringing and hadn't really known better. Ron, on the other hand, did.

It was late in the evening when Draco finally returned to his room. He had deliberately waited as long as possible in the hope that Harry would already be asleep.

After his flight from the dungeons, Draco had been angry and confused. He couldn't understand why Harry had gone to Weasley's aide, not after the way that the redhead had treated them both over the last few weeks.

While he would never have asked Harry to choose between them, he had assumed that the Weasel had made the choice himself, by virtue of his recent behaviour.

Not knowing who else he could turn to for advice, Draco had found himself outside the Headmistress's office, seeking an audience with Professor Snape's portrait. It wasn't quite the same as having his old mentor there with him, but, with his father imprisoned and his mother in a constant state of inebriation, it was the closest that Draco could come to familial advice.

Not that having an unbiased conversation with the man, about Harry Potter, was easy. On more than one occasion he had put Draco on the back foot with his acerbic remarks, to the point where Draco found himself being forced to defend Harry.

But his old professor had made some valid points, and he had listened patiently while Draco had vented his spleen. Whether it was the advice given, or simply the result of having someone listen to him, upon leaving the office, Draco found that he was clear about what he needed to do for the best, for all involved.

Now, as he stood in the doorway of his room looking at Harry, who was curled up peacefully in his bed, Draco no longer felt quite so sure of his decisions. He quickly stripped off his clothes and slid quietly into his bed.

"I was worried about you," came Harry's sleepy voice from the next bed.

"I'm fine," Draco answered shortly. "Go back to sleep."

Draco heard creaking sounds that indicated Harry had sat up in his bed. "I can't. I waited up so that we could talk."

"I'm tired," Draco protested, trying desperately to put off the inevitable.

"Please, Draco. I'm sorry for what I did. I know you were only trying to defend me."

"It's a pity you didn't realise it earlier," Draco snapped bitterly.

"I really am sorry," Harry pleaded. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never..."

"I know," Draco replied wearily. "I know you didn't really mean anything by it, but it still hurt. That...Weasley has treated you like a leper for weeks and still your first instinct was for him. Despite what he's done, despite everything we've shared."

Harry recognised something in the finality of Draco's tone that caused his chest to tighten in panic. "It won't happen again," he promised desperately.

"You're right, it won't," Draco agreed. "Because I won't let it. I can't do this, Harry. I know what I was, what I used to be, but I've changed."

"I know that."

"But while we're together, I'll never be allowed to be anything else other than the person I was. People will look at me and see some Death Eater trying to corrupt their precious Saviour. They won't give me a second chance, not like you did. And they'll drag you down with me in the process."

"What are you saying?" Harry's voice was tremulous and it caused a pang in Draco's heart. He was thankful that the room was dark so that Harry couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"I'm saying that we can't do this anymore. We can't be together."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence before Harry simply said, "Oh." It was just one word but it was so full of hurt that Draco wanted nothing more than to pull the other boy into his arms and kiss it all away.

"It's for the best, really it is. We can still be friends."

"Don't," Harry choked. "Don't make out that you're doing this for my sake. I don't care what people think, Draco. I lov-"

"No," Draco snapped. "Don't say that."

"Why? Are you scared of the truth?" Harry taunted.

"I don't believe in love. It's an illusion perpetuated by people desperate to fill some gaping hole in their lives."

"You don't really believe that."

"Why not? It's the truth."

"You know what? You were right. We shouldn't talk about this now. In fact, I don't think we should talk about this ever again. Goodnight."

Recognising the dismissal in Harry's words, Draco turned onto his side and buried himself under the duvet, fighting to stave off the threat of tears.

Hermione could tell straight away the next morning that something was wrong with Harry. But despite relentless questioning, he refused to talk about whatever it was that was bothering him. A quick look at Draco told her that he was similarly burdened, and being the smart witch that she was, put two and two together and came up with two stupid, stubborn boys.

After a week or so of watching Harry walk round as if in some kind of trance, Hermione had finally had enough. She cornered Draco after Ancient Runes and dragged him into a nearby, empty classroom.

As it turned out, Draco was only too happy to finally have someone to talk to about it, as Harry had point blank refused to talk to him since he had ended it. By the time he had finished spilling every last detail of the sorry mess, Hermione was sat on a nearby desk, eyeing him disapprovingly.

"You're an idiot," she said finally. "You do know that, don't you?"

Draco grimaced in reply to her words. "It's for the best," he replied softly.

"Best for whom? You're clearly miserable, and I haven't seen Harry this upset since Sirius died. The only person who this could possible make happy is Ron. Is that what you want?"

"It will be best in the long run. Weasley's behaviour is just the tip of the iceberg. Wait 'till the public find out that their Saviour is a flaming queen and, worse still, that he's shacked up with a Death Eater."

"Stop that," Hermione chided. "You weren't one of them. You were found innocent, everyone knows that."

Draco rounded on her, his eyes flashing. "Do you think that anyone actually cares about that? Not everyone is like you and Harry. All most people see is my surname. I'll never be allowed to forget what I did. And you know what? I shouldn't be. But Harry doesn't deserve to be tarred by the same brush."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "You know Harry doesn't care about that. He just wants you. He's put up with more crap from the press than you can possibly imagine. He's had them calling him everything from an attention seeker, to mentally disturbed, to them virtually accusing him of murder. He doesn't like it, no. But he would put up with that, and more, if it meant that he got to be with you."

Draco shook his head and raked long fingers through his hair. "I just don't want to hurt him any more than he already has been."

Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand impulsively. "Draco, you're hurting him far more by doing this, than being with you ever would. Harry's a big boy; he can handle whatever's thrown at him. You just have to trust that."

"It's been so hard," Draco admitted. "Being in the same room with him, pretending that I'm happy with just being friends." He paused and looked at Hermione with wide, grey eyes. "I never wanted it to be like this."

"I know," she reassured him. "But you have to put this right. I can't stand seeing the two of you so miserable."

"I guess," Draco agreed uncertainly. "But what if it's too late? What if he won't take me back?"

Hermione almost burst out laughing at this. "Are you crazy? Haven't you noticed the way his face lights up when you enter a room? He's about as smitten with you as it's humanly possible to be."

She got to her feet and smoothed down her clothes. "Just promise me that you'll give it some thought?"

Draco nodded, lost in thought. He barely noticed as she left the room.

"So, have you thought about it?" Ginny asked as she squashed down on the bench next to Harry, barely noticing that she had sent Neville sprawling in the process.

"Thought about what?" Harry mumbled through a mouthful of bacon.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb, Harry. It doesn't suit you. You know perfectly well that I'm talking about the Halloween dance."

"What's that about the dance?" Hermione asked, turning away from her conversation with Susan Bones.

"Harry has kindly agreed to escort me," Ginny replied with a grin.

Choking on his pumpkin juice, Harry spluttered. "No, I haven't. I told you that I'm not going.

"Of course you're going, Harry," Hermione replied briskly. "It will be our last Hogwarts dance. Why wouldn't you go?"

Harry shot a nervous glance to where Draco was sitting, just a few seats down the table. "I don't feel like it," he said defensively.

"But you have to," Ginny protested. "I won't be able to get another partner at such short notice."

He looked from Ginny's pouting face, to Hermione's determined one; Harry just knew that he had already lost the argument. "Fine," he agreed flatly. "But my dress robes don't fit me anymore, so don't blame me if I show you up."

"That's not a problem," Hermione answered blithely. "I'm sure that Professor McGonagall will give us permission to go into Hogsmeade this weekend.

Harry let out a deep sigh at the prospect of shopping, but simply nodded in agreement; when Hermione had that look in her eyes, he knew that it was pointless trying to argue. Casting another look in Draco's direction, he found that the other boy was staring straight back at him. Flushing slightly under the scrutiny, he promptly returned to his breakfast, trying to ignore his friends' excited chatter about dress robes and hairstyles.

Making their way from the Great Hall to their Potions classroom, Harry turned to Hermione. "If I'm going with Ginny, and you're still not speaking to Ron, who are you going to go to the dance with?"

"There are other boys in this school apart from you two, you know?" Hermione huffed. "Is it that hard to believe that someone else might want to take me?"

"No, of course not," Harry replied quickly. "I just wondered, that's all."

"I'm going with Draco, if you must know."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and shot her an incredulous look. "Draco," he repeated, using the calm tone that his close friends knew to be a bad sign.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not like there's anything going on between us."

"I don't see why you're going with him," Harry persisted stubbornly.

"Because he asked me to. Would you rather he took Ernie MacMillan instead?"

"No! Of course not. I just...Oh, never mind. It's not like it's any of my business anymore."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. "He only asked me because he didn't want to go with anyone as a real date."

"Whatever." Harry shrugged. "Like I said, it's none of my business what he does. He's made his feelings perfectly clear."

Hermione opened her mouth to refute this, but as they had now reached their classroom, she thought better of it.

"So, I hear you've got a date with the littlest Weasley," Draco commented later that evening, as they were readying for bed.

"No more than you have with Hermione," Harry snapped in return. He climbed into bed and pointedly turned his back on his roommate.

"It doesn't have to be like this, Harry. Can't we still be friends at least?"

"No, I don't think we can," Harry replied, squeezing his eyes shut to fight the tears that were threatening to escape.

"I don't see why not," Draco persisted stubbornly.

"Because it's too hard. You made your choice and now you have to deal with it, like I am."

"But I didn't know it was going to be like this."

"What did you expect, Draco?" Harry snapped, finally turning over to glare at the other boy. "You can't just end things without discussion and then expect us to just go back to being friends. It doesn't work like that."

Without waiting for an answer, Harry rolled back over. "Nox," he murmured.

Draco lay on his back looking up in the dark, his heart aching from the pain he had seen on Harry's face. The pain that he had put there. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"So am I," was Harry's bitter reply."

Harry looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. Draco stepped out wearing his new, black dress robes, and Harry felt his heart leap into his mouth. The urge to step forward and pull the other boy into his arms was overwhelming. Draco's skin was almost luminescent in the soft lighting of their room and his hair gleamed in comparison to the dark velvet of his robes.

"What do you think?" Draco asked uncertainly, pausing in the doorway.

Harry couldn't help but smile at this. "I don't know why you ask that. You know you look amazing."

A broad grin split Draco's face as he preened slightly from the compliment. He ran an appraising eye over Harry in turn. "You don't look so bad yourself. I'm impressed."

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably with his new robes. "Ginny picked them. Apparently they bring out my eyes!"

Draco smiled and took a few steps closer. He looked intently into Harry's face. "She's right," he murmured huskily.

Harry felt a flutter of hope in his chest as he noticed Draco's eyes flicker briefly to his lips. He licked them nervously and watched as Draco's eyes widened. For just a split second, Harry was convinced that he was going to kiss him. Draco stepped slightly closer, until their bodies were almost touching, the tip of his tongue flicking out to wet his own lips. Harry held his breath, hardly daring to move in case he startled the blond.

"Harry," Draco said breathlessly.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and the spell was broken. Draco stepped away, an embarrassed flush on his face, and Harry just glared at the door, willing a painful death on whoever was on the other side.

"Are you two decent?" Hermione enquired, her unusually sleek head peering round the door.

Harry struggled to force a smile onto his face and was careful not to look in Draco's direction. "Come in, Hermione."

She stepped into the room with a sheepish smile on her face. "You two look nice."

Harry looked at his friend and barely recognised her. Her usually frizzy hair had been tamed beyond recognition and was put up in a chic French pleat. Her face was lightly made up and the colour of her eyes was brought out by the soft, dusky pink of her robes.

"Wow," Harry said. "You look..." he trailed off here, uncertain as to what to say.

Draco walked forward and took hold of her hand. Bowing low, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. "What my inarticulate friend is trying to say is that you look beautiful."

She flushed at the compliment and gave a most un-Hermione-like giggle. "You're such a charmer," she teased lightly. "Are you ready to go?"

Draco nodded his agreement, and after bidding farewell to Harry, they both left the room.

"Come on, Harry," Ginny chided, as he hung back at the entrance to the Great Hall. "This is the last dance like this that we'll ever get to go to. You could at least pretend to enjoy yourself."

Harry muttered something unintelligible, but nonetheless took Ginny's arm and guided her towards an empty table. He had gotten her halfway across the room, when she pulled back on his hand.

"Let's go over this way. I can see Hermione over there, look."

Harry didn't have to look to see where his friend was sitting. Draco's blond head shone like a beacon in any room, and he had been deliberately trying to avoid him. It was going to be hard enough to make it through the night as it was, without the added torture of being forced to look at Draco all evening.

Ginny seemed unfettered by such concerns. She practically dragged him over to the other side of the Hall, brushing aside any protest he made.

"Don't be silly," she instructed; rather unsympathetically, Harry thought.

Hermione smiled warmly at them, and Draco's eyes seemed to linger on Harry just a little longer than was necessary. It was too much, and Harry was confused enough without Draco adding to it tonight. He turned abruptly to Ginny, who had barely sat down.

"Let's dance," he suggested, with rather more eagerness than he felt.

This provoked raised eyebrows from the rest of the table's occupants, but they wisely remained silent. Ginny got to her feet and took hold of Harry's proffered hand.

"Okay," she agreed. "But if you tread on my feet, I'm hexing you."

As conspicuous as Harry felt, clumsily leading Ginny round the dance floor, he felt that it was infinitely less uncomfortable than trying to make small talk with Draco. Since the night that they had broken up, Harry had gone out of his way to avoid the other boy; it was just too hard to hide his feelings.

Ginny was perfectly aware of what Harry was doing, but allowed him several songs grace before she insisted on returning to their table. Hermione was alone at the table when they returned and he gratefully sank into an empty chair.

"Where's Draco?" Ginny asked, giving voice to the question she knew Harry was dying to ask.

"He's gone to get us some punch. It's good stuff," Hermione said, indicating the empty glass in front of her.

Ginny turned pleading eyes to Harry and before she even asked, he was on his feet. "Okay," he sighed. "I suppose anything is better than sitting here listening to you two critiquing everyone else's outfits."

"I think you have us confused with Draco," Hermione replied primly.

Harry just grimaced and headed off in the direction of the drinks table. He kept an eye out for any sign of Draco, hoping to avoid contact if possible. However, as he neared the table, he found himself only feet away from the other boy. Not that Draco noticed, however, as he looked to be lost in deep conversation with Theodore Nott, who appeared to be flirting rather badly.

Harry's long-dead, chest monster roared into life at the sight of this. He took several deep breaths in a vain effort to calm himself and his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white and his fingernails dug deep into his palms.

"I can't do this," he muttered to himself, and swiftly turned on his heel and fled the Hall, failing to notice the concerned grey eyes that followed his exit.

Instead of returning to his room, which he was sure would be the first place anyone would look; he headed out of the main doors and into the grounds.

How long he sat by the edge of the lake, he wasn't sure. But eventually he heard the sound of someone approaching and, standing up, he turned to find Draco watching him intently.

"It wasn't what it looked like," Draco said, before Harry had a chance to speak. "Theo and I, I mean. We were just talking."

"Doesn't matter," Harry replied dully. "It's none of my business what you do."

"But I want it to be," Draco replied softly, stepping even closer.

Harry looked at the blond, hope blossoming in his eyes. "You mean...?"

"I mean, I was an arse."

"Yes, you were," Harry agreed.

"You will forgive me though, won't you? It is a rather lovely arse, after all."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at this. "That's what I've missed about you, your overwhelming modesty." Holding out his hand, he continued, "Would you and your lovely arse like to join me back on the dance floor?"

Draco took hold of his boyfriend's hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his palm. "Yes," he whispered. He paused here and gave a small smirk. "It's just my feet that are a little reluctant. They seem to have bad memories of you at the Yule Ball."

Harry pulled Draco towards him and cupped his boyfriend's face with both hands. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, watching with affection as Draco wrinkled it in protest. "You are a git," Harry said, smiling softly. "But I promise I won't tread on your delicate toes. I'll even let you lead."

Hermione and Ginny were waiting by the main entrance as the two boys entered, hand in hand. Harry smiled happily at his two friends, while Draco mock glared at both girls in response to the muffled squeals of delight that came from behind their hands.

Upon re-entering the Great Hall, Draco ignored the pointed stares and whispers of their classmates as he led Harry onto the dance floor. He stopped them in the centre of the floor and turned to gaze at his boyfriend, an expression of absolute adoration on his face. Unable to resist, Harry leant forward and quickly kissed him.

Ignoring the resulting gasp that echoed around the room, Draco wrapped his arms firmly around Harry and began to guide him effortlessly around the room. He noticed, with some degree of satisfaction, when Ron Weasley slammed his drink down on the table with a look of disgust in their direction.

For one moment, Draco thought that the other boy was going to come over and confront them, and he tensed in preparation. However, Ginny and Hermione had spotted the impending confrontation and had headed the impetuous redhead off. Draco smiled smugly to himself as the Weasel stormed from the room.

When the lilting strains of the waltz finally came to an end, Draco stepped back and bowed to Harry, before pulling him close and kissing him soundly. Harry let out a little squeak of surprise as he felt Draco's warm lips press against his own, but he swiftly forgot all about their audience and relaxed into the embrace.

When the boys finally pulled apart in search of air, the sound of clapping began to echo through the room. Looking over, they saw Hermione and Ginny stood at the edge of the dance floor applauding wildly.

"About bloody time too," Ginny yelled, much to the delight of the crowd.

That was all it took for the rest of their classmates to join in, and quickly the Great Hall was filled with the sound of cheers and wolf-whistles. More than a little embarrassed, Harry buried his face in the crook of Draco's neck.

"Can we get out of here?" he whispered.

Draco pressed his lips to the top of Harry's messy head. "Anything you want," he replied. "Anything."

The two boys had barely made it inside their bedroom before Harry had Draco pressed up against the wall, his lips attacking the blond's throat, while his hands quickly divested his boyfriend of his robes.

"Missed you so much," he gasped in between pressing open-mouthed kisses along Draco's jaw line.

Draco buried his fingers deep in Harry's messy hair. "Missed you, too," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "Want you so much."

As Draco lowered his hands and began to fiddle with the clasps on Harry's robes, he found his hands batted away.

"No," Harry almost growled. "Not yet. Want to see you naked first."

If Draco thought there was anything odd in this request, then he certainly didn't show it. His fingers flew to the buttons on his shirt and began undoing them eagerly. Harry's own fingers were already at Draco's belt, swiftly sliding the leather strap through the loops, before turning his attention to the trouser fastenings.

Once Draco's trousers were removed, Harry dropped to his knees, his face level with his boyfriend's crotch. Draco looked down, barely able to tear his eyes away from Harry's face; the flush of arousal was so enticing.

Harry pressed one palm to Draco's chest and ran it all the way down his chest, right down to his erection, which was straining desperately against the thin fabric of his boxers.

"So beautiful," he murmured, before leaning forward and slowly mouthing Draco's cock through the silk of his underwear.

Draco's his thrust forward almost involuntarily. "Please," he begged.

"Please what, Draco?" Harry asked huskily. "D'you want me to suck you?"

"Merlin, yes," Draco groaned.

Harry pulled his mouth away from Draco's cock. "I don't know," he mused teasingly. "I'm not sure if you deserve it after the way you've acted recently."

Harry's actions belied his words though, as his thumbs hooked under the waistband of Draco's boxers and slowly eased them down. Draco's cock, like every other part of him, was pale, slender and absolutely irresistible.

Harry wrapped his hand around the base and slowly flicked out his tongue to swipe a drop of pre-cum off the head.

"Like that?" he asked, as Draco whimpered audibly. "Want me to continue?"

"Fucking tease," Draco hissed, pressing his hips forward so that his cock bobbed closer to his boyfriend's face.

Taking pity on his frustrated boyfriend, Harry lowered his head and took the head of Draco's cock into his mouth. Draco forced himself to look down as his erection slid between Harry's swollen lips. There was something incredibly erotic about the way his boyfriend's cheeks hollowed with every effort to take his length deeper.

As Harry lapped eagerly at his cock, Draco buried his fingers in his boyfriend's thick locks, tenderly massaging his scalp.

When Harry pulled away, Draco whimpered loudly, protesting the loss of that delicious, wet heat.

"Don't worry, I'm not done yet." Harry smirked and Draco was almost convinced that was ihisi smirk grinning back at him. "On the bed," Harry instructed, and without stopping to question his obedience, Draco hopped up onto the bed and lay stretched out on his back, eagerly awaiting his boyfriend's next move.

"Lube?" Harry asked roughly.

"Second drawer down," Draco answered, finding himself surprisingly turned on by this new, forceful approach. The other times that they had had sex, Draco had very definitely been in charge. Harry had been a virgin when they got together and had been only to glad to let his more experienced boyfriend take the lead.

Harry seemed to spend a long time rifling through the drawer. "Found it?" Draco asked impatiently.

Harry stood up and looked at him with a wicked grin on his face. "Oh yes, I've found it." With that, he pointed his wand at Draco and murmured: "Incarcerous."

With a feeling of apprehension, Draco found that both his hands and feet were now bound to the corners of his bed. He bucked against his restraints.

"What are you doing?"

Harry just grinned at him again. "I was thinking that I forgave you far too easily. Perhaps you need to be taught a lesson."

Draco's eyes widened at this. "W-W-What...?"

"Shh," Harry soothed, one finger pressed to his boyfriend's lips. "It will be a nice lesson, I promise."

Very slowly Harry removed his own clothing. By the time he slipped off his underwear, revealing his thick, hard cock, Draco was desperately humping the air, his own cock begging for some attention.

"You really aren't very patient, are you?"

"Please," Draco begged, barely sure at this point exactly what he was begging for.

"Do you remember this, Draco?"

Harry held in his hand the quill with the long feather that Draco had used to tease him with. He began to trace the feather lightly along Draco's torso.

"You got me so hard that day."

Draco whimpered as the feather slid down to brush against his thighs. "I was hard for hours," Harry continued. "And no way to take care of it."

Harry leant down and tenderly brushed the stray strands of blond hair off Draco's damp forehead. "Maybe I should do that to you," he mused, before finally stroking the quill along his boyfriend's sensitive shaft.

"No! Please don't," Draco gasped, arching off the bed as shivers of pleasure coursed through his body.

"I won't," Harry agreed. "I'd be punishing myself as much as you." He knelt on the bed and crawled over Draco with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I'd much rather fuck you instead."

Draco mewled delightfully as he felt Harry's hard length brush against his own.

"Would you like that, Draco? My cock filling you so hard that you can barely remember your own name?" Harry gave a slight thrust of his hips as he spoke, and Draco almost sobbed with desire.

"Yes. Fuck yes."

Harry sat back on his heels and looked at the arousing picture his boyfriend made, spread out in front of him. He took hold of the lube and squeezed some on his fingers.

"More," Draco instructed nervously.

Harry looked at him in surprise. "You haven't done this before?" It was a statement more than a question.

Draco shook his head as much as his restricted movement would allow. "You're the first," he admitted, blushing.

Harry dropped the pot of lube, crawled back up his boyfriend's body and placed a tender, almost chaste kiss to his lips.

"I love you," he murmured softly. When Draco opened his mouth to speak, Harry's fingers came to rest on his lips. "You don't have to say anything. I know how you feel about it, but I just wanted you to know."

Draco lay back on the pillow and gazed into the green eyes of his boyfriend, wondering if it was even possible to put into words what he felt at that moment. But then the fingers were gone from his mouth and, after being further slicked with lube, were inserted into a much more intimate part of his anatomy.

Draco hissed in a breath as he felt Harry slide in a third finger, stretching him, working him open. Although he had never bottomed, he had certainly inserted things in himself before; he had a lovely dildo at home that he had no intention of ever telling Harry about. But there was something about the feeling of Harry's fingers as they stretched and twisted inside him, giving him such an incredible feeling of fullness.

"Are you ready?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco nodded. "Pillow," he gasped as fingertips brushed against his prostate.

"Lift up, then." Draco obliged and Harry promptly placed a pillow under his hips. From that angle he could see Draco's puckered opening, glistening with lube, and it was all that he could do not to bury his cock in the blond right then.

Instead, Harry reached over for his wand and removed the restraints on Draco's legs. He smoothly raised those lean calves until they rested snugly on his shoulders, running his fingertips soothingly down the sensitive flesh of his boyfriend's inner thighs.

"Ready?" he questioned.

Draco gave an answering thrust of his hips. "Just do it, please."

As he felt a cock, Harry's cock, penetrate him for the first time, Draco's head lolled back onto the bed. His eyes fluttered closed and he just lost himself in the sensation.

It took every last ounce of Harry's self-control for him not to come the second he felt the tight heat of Draco's hole envelop his cock. Gritting his teeth, he stilled his movements and rested his damp forehead against his boyfriend's. When he finally had himself under control, he gazed deeply into Draco's eyes, which were now almost silver with arousal.

"Okay?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded and kissed him hard before pulling back. When he buried himself in Draco the second time, the blond let out possibly the most erotic sound that Harry had ever heard. Taking this as encouragement, he gripped tightly onto Draco's thighs and began to thrust harder, making sure to angle his cock so that it hit his boyfriend's prostate.

The keening noises escaping Draco's throat went straight to Harry's cock, and he just knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Draco's straining erection."

"Mine," he growled possessively and began stroking firmly in time to his own thrusts.

"Yes," Draco hissed, his back arching off the bed as pearls of white come spurted from his cock over his chest and over Harry's stroking hand too.

The sight of Draco's orgasm was all it took for Harry to relinquish the tight control he had forced on himself. Slamming home one more time, burying himself deeper than ever before inside Draco's tight channel, Harry came hard, babbling words of love and devotion as he did so.

The feel of Harry's cock pulsing inside him, filling him with his seed, was possibly the most complete that Draco had ever felt before. There was something just so right about it, about him and Harry, together.

With the last remaining bit of energy he had left, Harry leaned over and picked up his wand one more time and promptly released the bonds on Draco's wrists. That done, he slumped, bonelessly, onto his boyfriend's chest, his face nuzzling in the crook of Draco's neck.

Draco looked down at the relaxed face of his boyfriend and promptly wrapped him tightly in an embrace.

"Harry," he whispered. Green eyes rose to look at him intently. "I love you," he continued nervously.

"You don't have to say it, Draco. Not just because I did."

"I know I don't have to. I'm saying it because I want to, because it's true. I didn't know that I did until tonight, but I do. I love you."

"Say that again," Harry demanded, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you, Harry Potter. I can't believe that I nearly let you go, and I'm so sorry for hurting you. I don't blame you if you never forgive me."

Harry nuzzled closer against him, their faces only inches apart. "Just promise me you won't leave me again."

Draco's arms tightened round his boyfriend's body. "Never," he promised. "I'll never leave you again."