Well, here it is everyone! The last chapter! Wow, this feels so strange. A HUGE thank you to each and every one of you for your incredible support and I truly hope you all have enjoyed the story. :) Oh, and I'm actually beginning a new story soon, so keep your eyes peeled!

Anyway, enough talking, on with the chapter, yeah? Dig in, loves!

Quick disclaimer: Nothing but the plot!

The first week back at Hogwarts was the hardest. Draco was trying his hardest not to just walk up to Harry and say Listen, I was being a prat. Come back to me. Then, grab him around the waist and pull him into a passionate kiss that would melt all the negativity between them.

That, however, was not something a Malfoy would do. So, he was forced to put on his signature snarl around the brunette. At first, he could see the hurt on Harry's face, which only made it harder. But near the end of the week, Harry's eyes changed from hurt to completely blank. Completely indifferent. Completely void of care.

Could Harry have gotten over his feelings for Draco so quickly? Not that Draco was being the best sport about the entire situation, but at least he was showing some kind of feeling. Harry Potter, however, was showing no feeling at all.

That hurt Draco more than anything.

Harry knew it would be different around Draco when they got back to school. But he hadn't thought about how it would be different. He figured they would just ignore each other. He definitely wasn't expecting the old Draco Malfoy back, with his smirks, snarls, and seemingly endless insults.

It drove him insane when he heard Draco say something about "Golden Boy", "Weasel", or "Mudblood" – absolutely insane. What made it even worse was that he could do nothing to stop it. Draco had made his point clear – he wanted nothing to do with Harry. And he knew that trying to talk Draco out of his current attitude would lead to nothing, if not harsher feelings between the two.

As the week went on, he just tried to completely ignore the blond. However, the Gryffindor soon found that old habits die hard. He occasionally caught himself staring at Draco, hoping his hurt was masked to all around him – especially the Slytherin.

One night, at dinner, he was staring particularly hard at Draco, picking at his dinner, when he felt someone elbow him in the ribs. He glared at the source, only to find a huge flame of red hair.

"Oh, hello, Ginny," He said harshly.

The red head sighed.

"Harry, what are you doing after dinner?"

He looked at her suspiciously from above his glass of pumpkin juice.

"Why do you ask?"

"Harry James. Don't you trust me?" She asked with mock concern.

"Let me think… um… Nope, I sure do not."

Ginny groaned with frustration and looked at Hermione with a pleading look.

Hermione looked from Ginny to Harry and shook her head.

"Harry, we really need to talk to you."

Hermione was in on this, too?

"What's going on?"

"We'll explain later. Just come with us after dinner, alright?"

"Please, Harry?"


"Alright, alright. Fine," He grudgingly agreed and went back to staring at a specific blond. He completely missed the worried look that the two girls shared.

Harry had tried to sneak off to the Gryffindor Common Room after dinner to avoid whatever talk he was going to have with Ginny and Hermione, but halfway up the stairs he was halted by a booming voice.

"Harry James Potter. This talk is extremely important and you will not run away from Ginny and I. Is that clear?"

Harry slowly nodded and walked over to the two girls, accepting defeat.

They led him into a dark classroom, slamming the door behind them as they entered.

"What the fuck is this? Hermione? Ginny? Where are you? Let me out!"

He was thrown onto a hard chair as the lights came on. He looked around the room to find himself surrounding by a very angry looking Hermione, Ginny, and-

"Pansy Parkinson? Okay, this is too strange. Seriously. I'm out of here."

He was about to get up leave when Hermione put a Binding Hex on him, fastening him to the chair.

"Oh no, you don't, Potter," Pansy ordered.

"What do you want from me?" Harry slowly felt himself begin to panic.

"Harry, we're here for you."

"We're here to help you."

"Steer you in the right direction, yeah?"

Harry stared at all three girls with a thoroughly confused look on his face.

"Pardon? Help me and steer me? For what?"

"Harry, this is an intervention," Ginny flourished dramatically with her hands.

"Er… right. That's great and all but I don't really see a need for-"

"Oh, no? No intervention is needed? So nothing is bothering you to the point that you're basically a zombie?" Pansy circled him slowly.

"Nope," Harry lied, gulping.

"Nothing is upsetting you so much that it's all you ever think about? Day and night?" Now Ginny was circling him.

Harry only shook his head furiously.

"Oh," Hermione started walking around him as well. He felt himself getting dizzy. "So, there is no one that might be tearing your heart into pieces? No one that you constantly think about, dream about-"

"Stare at," Ginny quipped.

"Stare at. No one at all, Harry?"


Pansy stopped in front of him, fire in her eyes.

"Lies!" She growled.

"This actually feels more like an interrogation than intervention," Harry noted, a bit scared of the dark haired girl in front of him.

"Semantics," She brushed it off. "Harry, we know."


"We know everything."

"About you and Malfoy. Snogging, shagging."

He glared at Hermione here.

"You told them?"

"She didn't tell us anything," Pansy scoffed. "We've known since you began. Since that night."

Harry hung his head in shame. He didn't have the guts to lie to them. They knew everything.

"Okay, fine, that's nice and all," He remarked heatedly. "But can you please explain to me what MY relationship with Malfoy has to do with me being TIED to a fucking chair in a classroom?"

"You're TIED because you tried to escape us, you git," Pansy snarled.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted his sure to be rude comment. "I know it sounds bad, but the three of us want you and Malfoy to be together. We have since the very beginning."

He looked at them, completely dumbfounded.

"Pansy here was helping us to match you two together," Ginny motioned toward the angry looking Slytherin girl.

"And YOU have completely ruined my match success rate. And YOU will fix it."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I tried to fix it, Parkinson. I wrote to him twice over the holidays. He said for me to leave him alone. Then he went back to being a snarky tosser. I think I'm done."

"We know this, Potter, which is why we're giving you this intervention. We're going to help you patch things up with Draco."

"What if I don't want to patch things up with him?"

The three girls looked at him, then looked at each other.

Suddenly, the room was full of loud, girlish laughter. This really pissed Harry off.

"Excuse me but-"

"You're pretty funny, Potter," Pansy cleared her throat, suddenly serious again. "But you can't fool us."

Harry stayed silent and looked at his feet, avoiding their eyes.

"Just cut the shit, Harry, and let us help you."

"Hermione!" He gasped.

The brunette rolled her eyes.

"You forget who you're speaking to, Harry. I was the one you spoke to over the Christmas holidays. You told me how you felt about him. I have a gut feeling that Malfoy feels the same way. He's just one to hold grudges, and everyone in this room knows that. But you can't just sit idly by, torturing yourself by just accepting the way he treats. Especially when you look back on your relationship before all of this mess happened. All three of us really believe that if you try hard, you can fix this, Harry."

"Are you kidding? Draco won't even LOOK at me without disgust in his eyes, what makes you think he'll speak to me?"

The air was thick with silence.

"I'm going to try my best to speak to him, Potter," Pansy chimed in. "But, it ultimately comes down to you."

"Are you in, Harry?" Ginny asked.

Harry sat still for a moment, wondering if it would be worth it. And then he saw Draco, smiling at him with those grey eyes like he used to. He nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm in."

He felt the bonds release him and he stiffly stood up.

"I'm going to go talk to Draco now. I want you to write him tonight so he gets it tomorrow. Just tell him how you feel. And be persistent this time, yeah?"

He watched as Pansy left, feeling a slight turn in his stomach. This could not go well.

Draco was reading a book by the fireplace when Pansy came skipping into the Slytherin Common Room and plopped herself on the couch next to him.


"Draco, we need to talk," She scooted a bit closer.

He sighed with irritation, slamming his book shut.

"Merlin, what is it?"

"It's about Harry," She whispered.

"Harry who?" He asked with disinterest.


"I don't give a fuck about Potter."

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Really, Draco. I'm not stupid. I'm not sure what happened to the two of you, but before you left for the holidays you two were practically up each others arses."

Draco tensed here. Pansy raised an eyebrow in interest.

"Oh ho ho, really now? That's-"

"Pansy, shut it. I'm not discussing that with you."

"Fine, be that way. That's not what I came for anyway. A little Weaselette told me that Potter is still in love with you despite the way you're treating him."

Draco cut her a side glare. "And?"

"I think you should give him a second chance."

"I don't bloody care what you think."

"Really, Draco. So touchy. Obviously there's some feelings left in your cold heart."

Draco fell silent and reopened his book.

"Just think about it, Draco." She slowly slid off the couch and disappeared into the girls dormitory.

The blond stared vacantly into the fireplace, feeling a slight tug at his heart as he imagined those emerald eyes. Could a Malfoy give into love so easily?

Harry couldn't think of anything to write. He had stayed up entirely too late trying to write his feelings down onto the parchment like Pansy had asked him to, but he got absolutely no where with it.

He had never been a man of words. But if there was one thing he knew from experience, it was that it was moment that moved him best when it came to making speeches and whatnot. Like during Dumbledore's Army and Quidditch matches, he seemed to get the words out right. Thinking that perhaps his situation with Draco had to similar, he simply wrote for the blond to please meet him in that infamous cob webbed classroom after dinner.

The day went on for what felt like forever, and Harry's stomach was in a huge knot. He knew he couldn't eat anything, so he sat in the classroom throughout dinner, staring at the door. Waiting for that moment when it would open. Waiting for Draco to burst the door, to accept his apology. Waiting for the moment where things would just go back to how they used to be.

Harry waited for an hour.

That moment never came.

He wrote Draco practically every day, asking him to meet him in the classroom. Every time, Draco never showed.

Harry never gave up. Mainly because Hermione and Ginny refused to let him give up. They were always there, giving him knowing glances, making snarky remarks about how it was very Gryffindor like of him to surrender. It was all very tiring, and somewhat irritating, but Harry couldn't argue with them. He couldn't give up, despite how much easier it would makes things.

One evening, when Harry was brooding - much like he always did since this Draco nonsense started - Hermione voiced that couldn't take much more of his depressing nature.

"Well, what do you want me to do? I'm trying everything. I'm doing what you and Ginny are telling me to do. It's not working," He hit his hands together on the last three words to emphasize his point.

The brunette rolled her eyes and muttered something about having to do everything. Harry cut her a glare as she closed her books.

"Harry, I know it's frustrating. I know sometimes you feel like it's not worth it. Deep down, though, you know what you want. I personally don't understand why you're letting one tiny drawback get in your way… You've never let obstacles stop you before." She gave him a reassuring smile before heading upstairs to the girls' dormitory.

Staring into the fireplace, Harry thought back on her advice. Draco completely ignoring him when they really needed to talk was certainly quite the obstacle.

You've never let obstacles stop you before.

This was definitely true. Anytime Harry needed to do something, he always found a way to get to it. He always went after it himself.

Suddenly, something in him snapped.

"That's it!" He yelled to no one in particular, gaining some strange looks from his fellow housemates.

He always had the tendency to go after the things that never came to him. Always. And really, looking back on it all, when had he not gone after said things? Never, actually.

Why hadn't he seen it before?

Smiling, Harry raced off to bed, anxious for the new day so his plan could be put into action.

The next day was a cold, but sunny Saturday. Harry had no idea where to find Draco, much less how to get him alone. He was starting to feel like this new "brilliant" plan of his wasn't going so well. Sighing, he grabbed his broom and decided a fly would surely make him feel better.

He was quickly crossing his way across the grounds toward the Quidditch pitch when a flash of blond caught his eye. He looked to his left and his heart started pounding uncontrollably. There was Draco Malfoy, sitting on a bench, reading a book. Alone.

This was his chance.

Harry stood there for a moment, trying to will the courage to simply walk over there. His legs are shaking, his palms were sweating. He cursed the blond for being able to do this to him.

Gulping loudly, he slowly started toward the blond. He cleared his throat a bit to announce his presence. Draco didn't even look up from his novel.

"Stalking me, Potter? I thought I made it clear," He mocked with little humor.

"Not clear enough, apparently," Harry challenged, anger beginning to rise.

"Oh? Well, how about this? Fuck off."

"Draco, I really want to talk to you."

"That's wonderful, but I'm not interested in what you have to say. I'm trying to read, so really, go away before I make you."

"Make me?" Harry growled, stomping to stand directly in front of the boy. He yanked the book from Draco's hands. "Look at me. Hear me out."

Draco stood up, glaring daggers at the raven haired boy he was now eye to eye with.

"Hear you out, eh? Hear you say what I wanted you to say three weeks ago when you didn't have the guts, only for you to possibly change your fucking mind again? No thank you, I've got better things to do with my time," He hissed, snatching the book back and furiously turned to leave.

"I'm a fucking idiot."

Draco slowly turned to face him again, with a bored look on his face.


"I was sure of you, I really was. I was being a complete twat, and I regret every moment of it. But I was always sure of you. Fuck, you're the one thing I've ever been sure about in my life. I was such a wanker, and it took losing you for me to understand how right you were. Fuck your cunt of a father. And I don't care about the labels… homosexual, bisexual, trisexual, whatever the fuck that is. I don't think that even exists… Whatever. It doesn't matter. I don't even care. I care about you. Only you. It's only you, Draco. And it will always be only you. I… I could never, NEVER change my mind about you. I love you. It will be only us. Only us. If you just give us the chance. And fucking… please say you'll give us the chance."

The blond stared at him for a long moment with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open – as if processing Harry's speech a word at a time.

Harry wasn't sure what else to say, so he closed the distance between them with fiery kiss. He wrapped his arms around the boy's cold, pale neck, pulling him even closer. Draco quickly pulled away, searching Harry's emerald eyes with his cool, grey ones.

"I love you too, you twit," Draco laughed softly. And Harry practically melted when he felt the blond return his kiss with equal passion.

It was then that Harry felt everything fall into place.

He thought back to that moment in the classroom all those months ago, to that lonely moment had when discussing Ron and Hermione. That moment he had longed for a companion. Someone who, no matter how many times they fought or no matter how foolish he would act, would always understand him. Be there for him. Love him.

And there, in the middle of the courtyard, with his many schoolmates watching, and the cold wind blowing through his hair, Harry knew.

Draco was what he was looking for all along.