Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
19. Returned Feelings
Harry Flooed home from Hogwarts to find Ron and Hermione reading in the drawing room.
"How was Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"Coming on amazingly," Harry answered. "It's all incredibly organized – Flitwick is in charge and has everything mapped out. There's a huge board up in the Great Hall, with everything written onto a six-week timeline. If things go to plan, the repairs will be completely finished in another five weeks, which gives the five last days of June for any extras and refurbishments."
"Brilliant!" said Ron. "What are the plans for the Eighth Years? Surely we won't all fit in the current dorms if there's an extra year of students?"
"I'm not sure yet." Harry replied. "They're up to something, I know that. McGonagall said they wanted to keep it a surprise, but there was something on the board about 'Tower Eight'."
Harry was looking just a bit edgy, and Hermione guessed why. She decided to have a little fun.
"Kingsley didn't reply," she said, affecting a conversational tone.
"Oh," said Harry, and he put so much sadness into a single syllable that Hermione relented.
"No, Elphias Doge did, instead. It's all sorted. Here, here's his owl."
She handed him the letter, and he read it, his face lighting up. Whatever Harry says, goes. He thought on this for a moment.
"Ron," he asked, "could I use Pig?"
"Of course, mate, you don't have to ask."
"Thanks," Harry said. As he turned, a piece of parchment, Summoned wordlessly, spread itself out on the desk, and the quill wrote on it. By the time Harry had walked over, the letter was ready; he signed his name, blew on it to dry the ink, popped it in an envelope, and turned to the owl who was sitting on his stand.
"Will you take this to Elphias Doge for me, please, Pig? There should be a reply," he asked.
The owl hooted happily, and let him fasten the envelope to his leg; then Harry opened the window for him, and he flew off; a trifle erratically, but Harry knew the message would get there. Well, hoped, anyway.
Hermione thought about continuing to sport with him, but decided that would be cruel, so she told him, "Draco's upstairs. Kreacher put him up on the third floor in the room opposite yours. Go on, off you go and welcome him."
"Thanks!" Harry said, and all but ran out of the room and up the stairs.
"George is right," Ron observed after he'd gone. "Besotted, and oblivious."

"Come in!" Draco said, before Harry even knocked. Must have heard me coming up the stairs, Harry thought as he came in and looked around. The room had been completely reorganized – Draco was obviously settling in and putting things his way. Harry was glad that his friend felt so at home.
"Welcome!" he said. "I'm sorry you don't have as much room as at the Ma—"
But further conversation was impossible; Draco had winded him as he ran into his chest, wrapped his arms around him, and covered his lips with his own.
"Please, Harry," he said, "less talking, more kissing and hugging."
Harry wrapped his arms around the blond and clasped him tight. He was surprised to find that Draco was shaking; he started rubbing his back and making soothing noises. In response, Draco burst into tears.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, worried.
Draco had held his emotion back for a week; now he had Harry in his arms, all his famous self-control fell away.
"I've missed you so much. I thought Father might have scared you off altogether, or you wouldn't want me or …"
"Hush," Harry said soothingly, continuing to rub Draco's back. "He didn't, and I do. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
Draco looked into his eyes, remembering the words from a week ago, and responding with Harry's question: "Will you stay with me now?"
Harry smiled, and led him over to a couch Draco had put in a corner. He sat down, pulling Draco onto his lap, and kissed his forehead.
"Of course," he replied.
They sat together, holding each other, until Draco's sobs subsided.
Draco could do with a little teasing, Harry decided. "How did you know I was there? I didn't even knock!" Harry asked, though he had guessed the answer.
"But you made a lot of noise coming up the stairs," said Draco, smiling at last.
"That's better," Harry said, "I like it when you smile."
"I'll try and do a lot of it while I'm here, then," Draco replied. "How was Hogwarts?"
"Yes," Harry said, answering the question Draco was really asking, "McGonagall said of course all old students are welcome to help, and they'd be able to find you a school wand you could use. We're working in pairs, so I suggested you could work with me, just to avoid animosity from anyone else."
"And 'cos you don't want to share me," Draco said, teasingly. He stood up. "I'm going to have to clean myself up before dinner, I suppose."
"Right. Um, Kreacher showed you where everything was?"
"Oh, yes, I'm fine. You'd better go and talk to Weasley and Granger, I'll be down soon."
"OK," Harry said, making a mental note to work on getting Draco to call his friends by their first names. He could probably order him to, he thought; but that wasn't the point, really. He'd need to rope the others in to solve this one, he decided.

A bottle of elf-wine went surprisingly well with the thick beef and vegetable stew that Kreacher had prepared for dinner. The Aurors on duty had excused themselves, saying that the Minister had had a little word about eating inside not really going with maintaining constant vigilance. Harry grimaced at the words, remembering Alastor Moody saying them rather too well. Even if most of the memories he had weren't actually Mad-Eye at all, but Barty Crouch Junior polyjuiced as him … It was all rather confusing, really.
So it was just the four of them, seated at the kitchen table. Harry noticed that, while the conversation wasn't exactly free-flowing, the other three were at least trying to be friendly. He knew they were doing it for his sake, and he appreciated their effort.
"So, how do you rate Draco as an opponent, Ron?" Harry asked. A very strange expression came over Ron's face before Harry added, "At chess, I mean."
"Oh," said Ron, as the sickle dropped. "A damn sight better than you, I'm afraid!"
Harry and Hermione both laughed.
"That wouldn't be hard," Harry admitted.
"How do you rate Ron, Draco?" Hermione asked the blond.
"Weasley is a formidable opponent," Draco said, politely. "We seem to be quite evenly matched. It made for a most entertaining game."
Ron looked a bit shocked to be complimented by a Malfoy, and even forgot to tell him off for using his surname, like Harry had asked them to.
But Hermione didn't.
"You know you can use our first names, Draco?" she reminded him. "After all, we are all Harry's friends; I hope we'll all be friends too!"
Draco stared at her. Could she really mean it? He asked himself.
"That's very kind," he began.
"It really isn't," Ron interrupted. "It's just what being a friend is."
"But – I nearly poisoned you;" he turned to Hermione, saying "my family tortured you;" then to both of them. "Can you really forgive me for that?"
Ron folded his arms and stared at Draco for a moment, a stern look on his face. Then he opened his hands.
"Yep," he said, grinning, and extended his hand to Draco.
Draco looked at it, stunned, and then shook the hand vigorously. Hermione got out of her chair, came over to him, and squeezed him in a tight hug.
Harry thought it must be the light getting to him; his eyes were suddenly watering a lot …
Kreacher's voice broke in on the scene. "Would young masters and mistress be wanting some Spotted Dick and custard?"

They sat in the drawing room after dinner, all feeling rather full after two helpings of pudding each. Pig arrived back, carrying a small parcel in reply from Doge, which Harry quietly pocketed without comment.
Draco had brought some books on house restoration spells from the Manor, and Harry and he were poring over them, discussing what needed to be done to Grimmauld Place, with Ron adding suggestions from time to time and Hermione being their scribe, writing a list of what they intended to do. As Kreacher appeared with coffee and chocolates, Harry suddenly remembered their discussion from the morning.
"Kreacher," he asked, "I thought we were going to have treacle tart this evening?"
"Kreacher is very sorry Master Harry!" the elf wept. "Kreacher is forgetting!"
"No, no," said Draco, "it's my fault. I asked Kreacher if his Spotted Dick was as amazing as ever, and he told me I'd have to decide for myself. And may I say, Kreacher, that it certainly was; your cooking has only improved over time."
"Thank you, Master Draco!" Kreacher said, his eyes shining.
"And thank you, Kreacher," Harry said. "We can always have treacle tart another time; but I'm very pleased that you made Spotted Dick to help Draco feel at home. I hope he will be staying here for a long while."
"As long as you want me, Harry," Draco replied.
"That's good," Hermione said. "We've promised Molly to spend some time at the Burrow before we fly out, so we thought we'd go over first thing tomorrow for the day, and stay there tomorrow and Friday nights."
"Fine," said Harry, "Draco and I can make a start on the renovations here, and then go over to Hogwarts in the afternoons."
"Is Draco going to help then?" Ron asked.
"Yes, apparently I'm welcome," the blond replied.
"That's brilliant!" Ron said, grinning widely, and then looking a little taken aback at Draco's rather surprised expression. "I mean, it is, right?"
"Yes," said Draco, breaking into a smile. "I just didn't ever imagine you would think so."
"Of course!" Ron replied. "It's just what being a friend is, remember."
It was Draco's turn to wonder if perhaps the light had suddenly become a little brighter …

Thursday, 21 May 1998
Draco opened his eyes, momentarily wondering where he was, as one does when waking up in a strange bed. The room was pitch black; casting Lumos and Tempus he found that it was two o'clock in the morning.
Why had he woken up?
And then he heard it: a very faint moan.
He remembered that sound. It was Harry. Much fainter than last time, but definitely Harry. He must be having another nightmare, Draco thought, and leapt out of bed. Gathering a dressing-gown around him, he wandered over to the other man's bedroom.
"Harry?" he asked, tentatively. There was no reply, so he tried the door. It wasn't locked; so he opened it quietly and slipped in. As he did so, he could feel a Silencing charm that Harry must have put up; as he went through it, he found that in fact Harry wasn't moaning, he was yelling. Anything less would never have made it through the charm.
"HARRY!" he yelled, racing over to the bed. There was no point being subtle in the face of the other's screaming. Harry was thrashing and getting caught up in the bedclothes, which was obviously distressing him even further. Draco wrapped his arms tightly around the raven-head, who seemed unconsciously to accept this as a friendly gesture; he began to calm down, and the screams became mumbles and pants, and then sobs as Harry nestled against Draco's chest.
"Shhhh," Draco said, softly. "It's all right. Shhhh."
After a while, the sobs subsided, and Harry's breathing returned to normal. Draco kissed the forehead of the, amazingly, still sleeping man.
"Let's get you sorted out," he said, speaking mostly to reassure Harry that he was there, he hadn't gone anywhere, and Harry needn't worry about him moving away.
He unwound the sheets and blankets from Harry and laid him carefully down on the bed, then pulled the covers over him again. Remembering how Harry had wanted him last time, he got in next to him and cuddled him tight. Harry unconsciously rolled over and mirrored the gesture, and it was not long before they were fast asleep in each other's arms. The rest of the night passed in restful, dreamless sleep.

Harry woke up quite early. He looked around; there was no-one else there. Had he only dreamt the feeling of Draco in bed with him then?
He got up, put on dressing gown and slippers, and descended to the kitchen to see if there was a cup of tea to be had. On the way he paused at Ron and Hermione's door; he was greeted by the sounds of gentle breathing and not-so-gentle snoring; his friends were obviously still fast asleep.
As he got to the bottom of the stairs he could see the back of Draco's head. The blond was sitting there, happily chatting to Kreacher about the times he had visited Grimmauld Place before. Harry hung back at the door, watching. He was tickled pink to think that here was the pure-blood Draco Malfoy having a natter with a house-elf. He couldn't imagine Draco's parents doing such a thing!
It wasn't long before Kreacher noticed him.
"Master Harry!" he greeted, "Master will be wanting some tea!"
With which, he jumped up and began to rustle around in the kitchen.
Harry sat opposite Draco and looked at him closely. The blond had washed his face, and his eyes shone from the water; but he was tired underneath.
"I didn't imagine it, did I?" he asked.
"Pardon?" Draco asked, a bit stumped; most people tended to start the day with 'Good morning'; 'I didn't imagine it' was, to say the least, an unconventional opening.
"You came in. I was having a nightmare, and you came to me."
Draco's face fell a little. "I didn't know if you'd want me there when you woke up. We didn't discuss your friends or anything …"
"Oh Draco, you don't have to be ashamed here. I'm so thankful you came in last night, I was getting terrified …"
"What was it about?" Draco asked, and then mentally kicked himself for being so insensitive, as Harry's face fell as he remembered the scenes that the Auror's innocent words had set off in his head.
"Mad-Eye Moody. I'd rather not discuss it, if that's all right," he said.
"Of course," Draco agreed.
They sat for a minute in silence. Harry's tea floated across to him, and he added a spoonful of honey before continuing, "You know, Draco, I think you're the first person who's ever been there for me like you were last night. Until that night in the Manor, I can't remember anyone seeking me out and comforting me at all, never mind cuddles in bed."
Draco went rigid, visibly shocked. "What? But you grew up with Muggle relatives, didn't you?"
"My aunt and her family," Harry agreed.
"And she didn't comfort you when you hurt?" he asked, scandalized at the thought. His mother would still check up on him even now if he made any noise at night, he was sure of it.
"Not once. Often enough, she caused the hurt. It would have been hard to have cuddles in bed, though. I didn't even have a bedroom before I went to Hogwarts; I slept in a cupboard."
Draco was outraged to hear such things; he'd always assumed that the Boy-Who-Lived would have been treated like a king; he certainly would have been in wizarding circles as the only known survivor of the Killing Curse, and the presumed cause of Voldemort's disappearance for over ten years.
Who put a child in a cupboard? Who treated their own flesh-and-blood with such coldness? It chilled his blood, and he couldn't bear to hear more just now; and while Harry looked like he was holding it together, Draco, who had watched him closely for years, could tell he was ready to burst into tears. The blond stood up, walked around the table to Harry, and circled him with his arms, holding his head close to his own chest, brushing the hair with his hand.
"Oh, Harry," he said, "I'm so sorry …"
"You have nothing to be sorry for," Harry said, though it came out rather muffled. He pulled Draco onto his lap.
"Yes, I do," Draco replied, looking at him seriously. "I left your bed because I was afraid of what the others might think. I didn't think at all about what you would think. I'm sorry, Harry," he said, kissing the other's forehead, and then moving to sit on the chair beside him.
"Forgiven," Harry, sniffling, assured him.
Two plates of bacon and egg floated over from the cooker, one plate settling gently in front of each of them.
"Thank you, Kreacher, this looks magnificent!" Draco said.
"Than' 'oo, Kreacher," agreed Harry, the words having some difficulty forcing themselves around the mouthful of breakfast he had taken.

They had finished breakfast and Draco had even had time to shower and dress before there was any sign of the other two. Ron poked his head into the drawing room and found them consulting over the list Hermione had made, discussing exactly where to start.
"Morning!" he called to them. "Hermione will be down in a minute. Um, any chance of breakfast?"
"There was plenty before we started," Draco answered. "We did save you a little," he dead-panned.
"WHAT? A little?" Ron squeaked, and rushed to the kitchen.
Harry dissolved into a fit of giggles. "You've got his number!" he said, as soon as he got his breath back.
"Oh, it's always been clear that Mr. Weasley is fond of his victuals," said Draco, in his best upper-class pure-blood voice, rather ruining the effect by then bursting into giggles himself.
They heard Hermione going down. After a minute, silence descended, so the two of them wandered down to the kitchen to see what was going on. Ron was sitting in front of an enormous plate filled with bacon, eggs, sausage, tomato and beans; Kreacher was obviously well-used to his appetite as well.
Hermione, who had decided she didn't particularly want a big breakfast, had a plate of toast and marmalade in front of her. "Thank you, Kreacher," she said with a brilliant smile.
Kreacher gave the other two some more tea, and, as the two late-comers finished their breakfast, they all sat together in a companionable silence which lasted until Hermione had emptied her plate.
"How did you sleep?" she asked Draco, as Ron was finishing his breakfast.
"Oh, quite well, thank you, once I managed to fall soundly asleep," he replied, truthfully if rather careful to be exact.
"Oh, sorry you had trouble falling asleep," Hermione continued, her voice concerned and motherly.
"Oh, strange house and all, you know," Draco said, wanting desperately to avoid the topic altogether. "You mentioned something about flying out? I think Harry said you were going to Australia?"
They discussed the whole going-to-Australia plan with him. Draco was very impressed to learn that Hermione was capable of putting such a powerful memory charm on her parents; and he was amazed to learn that they were flying, not on a broom or through magical means, but in a Muggle aeroplane. Privately, he thought this was a truly insane idea; but, in the interest of being friends, he kept that opinion to himself and expressed an appropriate polite interest.
Not that it would have mattered much to Ron what he said. The red-head burbled away happily about the plane they would be travelling on – he seemed to have found out everything: its weight, number of passengers, range … Harry mused that the Weasley's youngest son had definitely inherited some of his father's fascination with all things Muggle.
But Hermione noticed that Draco wasn't really interested. "Now, Ron, we must get over to the Burrow; you know what Molly's like, she'll be wondering where we are."
"Don't be silly, 'Mione," Ron said. "She's not expecting us till lunchtime."
"Yes, but Harry and Draco wanted to make a start on renovations, and they don't need us under their feet while they do that."
Ron could see there was no arguing with the witch, so he caved in and they Flooed to the Burrow just before ten o'clock.

Harry and Draco had a very happy and profitable couple of hours, and by lunchtime the basic spellwork they had planned out had been laid. Harry could feel that the house was somehow more stable than before; it felt more solid, in a way he could not identify. Draco explained that it was more his magic settling down and tuning to the house; he was becoming truly its owner.
After lunch, they consulted with the Aurors, who confirmed that they were quite safe at Hogwarts without an Auror guard, and that under the terms of Draco's probation, Harry could take Draco with him wherever he wished; they would even turn a blind eye to side-along apparition if Harry preferred. But, while he definitely would have preferred, Harry did not want to take any risks, so they Flooed to the Headmistress's study.
"Ah, Potter! Malfoy! Welcome!" Minerva said. "Right on time, too, I see. You must be having a good influence on Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy; he was never on time under his own steam that I recall…"
"Oh come now, Professor," said Harry, deliberately using her former title to bring back memories of schooldays, "I did get to class on time once or twice …"
"Yes, Potter," she replied, with mock severity. "But that was largely Miss Granger's doing I suspect."
Harry laughed, and gave up. He wasn't going to win; he had not expected to get the better of Minerva McGonagall, anyway.
"What will we be doing today, Headmistress?" Draco asked, a little hesitantly. He didn't have the relationship that Harry had with his former head of house; so felt rather left out of the banter, and somewhat awkward.
The Headmistress must have sensed this, because she smiled at him kindly before saying, "You'll need to report to Professor Flitwick in the Great Hall; we're all working under his guidance. He will brief you."
They thanked her, taking this as a cue to leave, and turned to the door.
"Oh, and Malfoy?" she called after them.
The blond turned back towards her. His face was blank, but he couldn't read her at all, and it made him very nervous. Without showing it, inwardly he was concerned to learn what she would say now.
But she just smiled. "Welcome back," she said, warmly.

In the Great Hall, several helpers were just finishing lunch, and Professor Flitwick was seated on an enormous stool that managed to bring the tiny wizard almost up to Draco's shoulder.
"Ah! Potter! Malfoy! Welcome!" he twittered in an excited voice. "Now! I have been waiting for you two to turn up! I want you to start work on a very special project! Come with me!"
With that he leapt from his stool; for a moment, Draco was afraid he would hit the ground and break something. But Filius Flitwick was not Charms Professor at Hogwarts for no reason! His Levitation charm, wordless and wandless, kept him well off the ground, and he floated out through the entrance hall. He was fast! Harry thought, as the two of them struggled to keep up with him. They went up the Grand Staircase and through corridors, passing many wizards, witches and house-elves at work: rebuilding walls, patching the curtains, mending the paintings; everywhere there was work to do, and work being done.
Eventually they stopped in front of a portrait of a phoenix. As they arrived, the phoenix turned its head to scrutinize him; then, with what might have been a look of recognition, flew into the right-hand edge and vanished; it must have gone to some other painting. Harry was sure he'd never seen the painting before, though he thought he might recognize the phoenix; Flitwick confirmed both of these: "a new painting, in honour of Professor Dumbledore and Fawkes, his phoenix!" he exclaimed. A few moments later the former headmaster appeared in the frame.
"Welcome, Harry!" he cried, "welcome Draco!"
"Hello, sir," they both said, nearly in unison.
Their old headmaster beamed at them. "I'm not usually here, you know, this is more Fawkes's painting than mine; but I couldn't resist coming and greeting you, so I asked him to let me know as soon as you arrived. How are you getting on with the Debt?"
Harry and Draco both gulped at being asked such a question. What did the old wizard know, and how did he find it out? Draco wondered. Dumbledore turned a twinkling eye on him.
"I have many sources of information, Mr. Malfoy. Not to mention my own eyes, which tell me that you two are finally becoming friends. About time too. And I'm pleased to see you two setting such an excellent example of togetherness for the Wizarding world."
Harry was a little shocked. "Are you really happy for us to be together, sir? I mean, I thought you might think…"
"Harry," the headmaster interrupted, "I think that Mr. Malfoy is very special, as are you, and together you will help each other get over the past. And then you can help others to do the same. It doesn't matter a bit to me that you're both male; and anyone who says otherwise doesn't understand real love, my boy."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said, choking over the words. Draco looked at him. Harry was so afraid of being judged for their relationship. Why? He wondered. What had happened to Harry that made him so lack self-confidence? Was it something to do with the Muggles?
The headmaster, who Draco was beginning to believe could read minds, looked at him, and nodded slightly, as if to say yes, follow that thought. But he didn't say anything to the blond, rather addressing the three of them:
"Very good. Now, I do enjoy your company, Mr. Potter, amongst other things, but now I must leave you in Professor Flitwick's most excellently capable hands." With that, he walked out of the painting, and Fawkes, for Harry could now plainly see it was him, reappeared.
"These are some old rooms we're going to start renovating as the Eighth Year Tower!" Flitwick squeaked. He looked sideways at Harry, his face suddenly very mischievous. "Do you think you can guess the password, Mr. Potter?" he asked.
Harry thought for a minute. Dumbledore had put an odd stress on enjoy and other things… what else did he enjoy? And then he remembered a note from his former headmaster, telling him he enjoyed …
"Acid pops!" Harry said.
Flitwick chortled, the painting swung open, and the three of them entered the new Tower.

They walked into a poorly-lit, dusty space. It was obvious that no-one had been here for years; Flitwick looked around and tut-tutted audibly.
"The house-elves were supposed to have made a start this morning," he said. "But perhaps they were busy with all their other duties. Never mind." Out came his wand and in about twenty seconds all of the dust was gone, and many of the interior walls. He then turned to the windows; soon they were standing in a huge octagonal space with a large window on each of the eight walls; through them, now that they were cleaned, sunlight streamed into the room, catching stray particles of dust as rays of light do. Harry and Draco were amazed; the room had gone from dark and dingy to light and spacious within minutes.
"Now we can begin!" Flitwick chortled happily.
"Um, well, I can't," Draco reminded them, "I haven't got a wand."
"Oh yes!" Harry said, pulling the parcel he had received from Doge out of his pocket. "I have this for you!"
He cast an Engorgio on the box, and handed it to Draco. It was a familiar shape and size ... Could it be?
Draco opened the box. It was. Inside was nestled his wand.
"I hope you'll get to keep it a lot longer this time!" Harry chuckled. "Doge agreed that if what I say goes, you can have your wand if I say so; and I do! So, now I'm giving it back to you again. For good, this time, I hope."
Draco looked at him, speechless, his eyes showing his gratitude and thanks.
They spent the afternoon happily cleaning out the rooms. Flitwick had cast some stupendous enlargement charms and then left them to it; they had never realized during school just how powerful the tiny wizard was, but seeing his levitation and enlargement charms today, they agreed that his charmwork really was second to none.
By six o'clock they had the new quarters actually looking like a dwelling place, rather than untidy space. The large common room, at the base of the Tower, was coming into shape nicely; they had chosen to decorate it in rather muted colours, weaving together the colours of the four houses, and were about to start work on the rooms above when Flitwick reappeared.
"Excellent! Excellent!" he said, clapping his hands. "Lovely charms to make the colours! Time to finish for today! Come for lunch tomorrow, please, and we will discuss the upper floors then."
They happily agreed and returned to the Headmistress's office to Floo back to Grimmauld Place for dinner. McGonagall was there, having returned from her own meal.
"Ah, there you are. It's nice to see you two looking happy," she said to them as they came in. "Did you have a productive day, Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco still felt he didn't quite know how to deal with the Headmistress, so answered politely, "yes thank you, ma'am."
McGonagall looked at him rather sternly, then her face relaxed a little, and she said, in the gentlest voice he had ever heard her use, "Draco, you don't have to be afraid of me; I don't bite, you know. Here, have a cookie."
She levitated her cookie jar to him.
"Take one," Harry whispered at him. "It's a sign she's pleased with you."
Draco did, and said "thank you. Um, yes, we did work together well, I think. We worked together repairing Harry's house this morning; I think we make a good team."
Harry smiled in agreement. McGonagall, watching them, compressed her lips in the slightest of smiles. In more ways than one, I suspect, she thought.
"Well, enjoy your evening, gentlemen. Will we be seeing you tomorrow?"
"Oh yes," Draco said, "Professor Flitwick invited us to come for lunch first."
"Excellent!" McGonagall replied, with real warmth. "So, we shall see you around midday then."

Kreacher produced a lovely steak-and-kidney pie for dinner, and then at last, with many an apology from the old elf, the promised treacle tart. Draco proclaimed it to be excellent; Harry didn't have to, his opinion was obvious from the fact that he only turned down a third helping because he was afraid he would burst.
They sat reading together in the drawing room after dinner; but it was not long before the effort of all the spellwork they'd done during the day caught up with them, and they went off to bed.
As they got to their landing, Draco took his courage in both hands. He so wanted to move their relationship on; but was Harry ready to go further?
"How about you don't use a Silencing charm tonight?" he asked.
Harry looked dubious. "But that's not fair; if I have a nightmare, I'll disturb you."
"Harry," Draco said, looking at him earnestly, "if you have a nightmare, I want you to disturb me. I want to help. You've always been the saviour, our knight in shining armour; can't I be yours in this? You deserve so much comfort, let me give you some?"
"You care that much about me?"
Draco looked at him; he just couldn't quite find the courage to say the words …
Harry smiled. How could he resist that face, that devotion? "All right. I won't use a Charm."
Draco felt his courage ebbing away, so dug his fingernails into his palms to make himself go on. Say it! He told himself. "Unless of course we just start off together …"
In the middle of the night, Harry had another nightmare about Remus. But it never got going; the arms that surrounded him immediately, the voice that soothed him, calmed him back to sleep before he even fully woke up …
In the middle of the night, Draco at last found courage to say the words.
"I love you, Harry."
"Mmm," Harry said, but he was only responding to the voice, not the words. The raven-head didn't hear; he was fast asleep. But it didn't matter; the words had been said, and they were true, and Draco astonished himself to have been able to say them out loud.

Friday, 22 May 1998
Harry opened his eyes slowly. He was still being held by the arms of the man he –
Did he? Really?
Yes, I do, he thought.
He loved Draco Malfoy.
He must have disturbed Draco; for as he watched, the grey eyes fluttered open.
"Morning," the blond said, slowly, lazily.
Harry didn't speak at first. He captured those lovely lips in a warm kiss; Draco quickly responded, clutching Harry tighter, and as Harry nipped Draco's bottom lip he opened his mouth and their tongues came together, slowly and sweetly tasting each other, saying so much with no words.
As they broke apart, needing air, Harry finally replied.
"Morning, lover."
"Really?" said Draco, his eyes ablaze with excitement.
"Well, I love you. And you love me. Don't you?" Harry asked.
Draco didn't bother saying anything in reply; instead he tipped Harry onto his back and plastered his face, his neck, his chest, everywhere he could reach, with kisses. In truth, he probably couldn't have answered with words. All the doubt, the uncertainty, the fear, the waiting, it was all over, gone.
He loved Harry.
Harry loved him.
What was there to be said?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have set up a thread for replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ . I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Returning to Sanity