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Draco gently set the Billywig inside the cage before closing and locking the door. The bug had been captured by a couple of teenage wizards who thought it would be fun to threaten people with its stinger. Draco chuckled to himself because the obnoxious little plonkers had ended up being stung so many times, they practically floated away. Turning to check on the Niffler in the next cage, Draco caught sight of Saul Croaker and quickly ducked below the counter.

Saul, head of the Unspeakable Division, rarely left his office. He sent underlings to track down staff members and demand they report to his tower, as Draco liked to call it. Draco knew the fact that he was down in the Magizoology area of the Unspeakable Division would not bode well for him. It was either going to be a crap assignment or working with the Aurors. Giving it some thought, Draco decided he'd prefer a crap assignment over the possibility of running into Potter every day. Sadly, that lapse in his attention was enough for Croaker to locate him.

"Is there a reason you're hiding behind a counter, Unspeakable Malfoy?" Croaker asked in a voice that strongly resembled his name. "Is this some childish attempt to avoid me?"

Draco stood to his full height, and looked down on the annoying man. "I don't hide. I was merely looking for the quill I dropped," Draco replied, struggling to maintain an even tone. Croaker may be an arse and often an idiot, but he held the ability to make Draco's life miserable in his grubby little hands.

"The one here on the counter?" Croaker sneered and pushed at it with a finger.

"Hmm…," was all Draco could muster. "Did you need something in particular or are you just out for a departmental stroll?" As he spoke, Draco gently pushed Croaker away from the counter. "And I suggest you step away from the Niffler. She appears to be recovering nicely and your flashy gold watch has her quite mesmerised."

Saul stepped back as if he'd been burned. "Nasty little creatures, always trying to steal what doesn't belong to them."

Draco bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. It wouldn't serve him to remind his boss that neither was sleeping with another man's wife, which was the current gossip winding its way through the Unspeakable Division. Croaker was not just disliked for his lack of management skills, but also for his propensity to fuck anyone with tits.

"As a matter of fact, I have an assignment for you."

Now Draco was positive he was not going to like this one bit, but wondered why the man hadn't just done the usual and summoned him to his tower.

Croaker held out a royal blue folder to Draco. "Apparently there's been a unicorn foal or two stolen from their mothers in the last couple of weeks."

"Isn't our crack Auror Division on top of it?" Draco asked before he could stop himself.

Croaker sighed and Draco knew he did not want to hear what the little toad had to say. "Must I remind you again, Mr Malfoy, that there are times that our department is requested to work with the Aurors."

Draco gave Croaker a withering glare.

"And if you and Auror Potter exchange words again, I will be the one that's reported to the Minister. And if that happens, it will not bode well for your continued presence in the Unspeakable division."

"So it's Potter's case?" Draco asked, although in his head he knew it was a stupid question. Of course it was Potter's case. Didn't they give him all the high-profile and important cases? Draco struggled to calm that frisson of excitement that coursed through him whenever he knew he'd be working a case with the git.

As Croaker continued to lecture Draco on how important it was for him to try to get along with Auror Potter, he tuned out his droning voice. It wasn't that Draco disliked Potter anymore. That, in fact, would have been much easier than this ridiculous pash he had on the man; as Pansy insisted on calling it.

"Do I have your word, Unspeakable Malfoy?" Croaker was asking pointedly, clearly waiting for an answer, his bulging eyes pinned to Draco's face.

Looking over at Croaker, Draco realised he'd stopped jabbering and was asking him a question. Struggling to look as if he had a clue as to what the man had been saying, Draco schooled his features and nodded. He just hoped to Merlin he'd not agreed to anything he would regret.

"Yes, sir, no problem. I'll report to the Auror division first thing in the morning," Draco assured his boss.

"I just told you they want you upstairs immediately so you can be briefed before end of shift," Croaker told him. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked back towards the exit, muttering all the way about insubordinate staff.

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a Sickle. He held it out to the Niffler. "Nixie, this is for not pilfering Croaker's pocket watch. Now you behave while I'm on assignment upstairs." He laughed as Nixie grabbed the coin and held it close to her chest and gave a little snert-sound in delight.

"I haven't even had the case for two full days, and you're already calling the Unspeakables in?" Harry barely resisted the desire to shout at Dawlish. It never did go well when he raised his voice to his boss. He walked over and closed the door to his tiny, cramped office. Harry rarely shut the door to the small space; open it gave him the pretence of a larger room, having it closed reminded him too much of the cupboard he used to live in.

Dawlish raised an eyebrow at the move.

"Look, John," Harry began talking before he'd even returned to his chair, "you handed me this case as I was all but out the door the day before yesterday. I've barely had time to read through all the notes, let alone determine what to do. I still had to finish the write-up on the potion's ring for Merlin’s sake." He ran a hand through his thick mop of hair, while plopping into his desk chair. "Not to mention there was nothing on it indicating it was a priority."

"The situation has been upgraded by the Minister, we need to move fast, Harry. If the wizarding population finds out someone is stealing unicorn foals, there'll be hell to pay. Mark my words."

"I understand that, but at least give me some time today to sort through everything." His voice raised in spite of his efforts to remain calm.

Dawlish shook his head. "We don't have that luxury. McLorin just reported that they found another unicorn mare in bad shape. There are reports she gave birth two weeks ago and her foal is nowhere to be found and it appears she's been hit with some sort of wasting curse. The locals keep an eye on the colony, but it moves around and isn’t always easy to find."

"Well shit." Harry rubbed the spot where a headache had begun pounding between his eyes. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have someone with a Magizoology background." He paused. "Anyone but Malfoy," he said firmly. At the same time there was a knock on his door and it swung open.

"Unspeakable Malfoy reporting as requested."

Draco knew listening outside of Potter's door was a fairly shitty and childish thing to do, but when he finally got to the Auror division the closed door and the voices had him curious. Instinct told him exactly when to knock and not to wait. The look on Potter's face made it all worthwhile.

"Did I hear my name mentioned?" Draco asked innocently, stepping inside. "Should I close this?"

He watched, amused, as Potter took a deep breath and glared at Dawlish.

"Leave it open," Harry grumbled. "I gather you're our Unspeakable."

Draco considered Harry for a moment, then arched one brow in amusement. "Technically, I suppose I'm the Ministry's Unspeakable," he gave a shrug, "but if you want to consider me yours I imagine I can live with that." He winked before turning his attention to Dawlish.

"John," Draco said, holding out his hand. "Good to see you again."

Dawlish took his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Draco, glad you were free to help on this. How's your knowledge of unicorns?"

Draco kept his focus on Dawlish, but he was well aware of every move Potter made, including the thundercloud look on his face over Draco's apparent familiarity with Dawlish.

"I wouldn't say I've a doctorate in them. But my knowledge of the latest research on unicorns is fairly extensive. Croaker mentioned something about missing foals, but not much else. So, which one of you is going to explain things to me?"

Dawlish jerked his thumb towards Harry. "I'll let Harry get you a set of the case notes. I think it would be best for you two to study them tonight and meet back here at zero seven-hundred to begin. I've reserved Conference Room B for you and any additional team members you may need for the duration of this case." He furrowed his brow and stared at them both.

The tension in the room was so thick it felt like fog had rolled in, surrounding them like a heavy blanket.

Dawlish propped his hands on his hips. He had to be in his late sixties, but with his thick head of salt and pepper hair and his trim frame, he could have been years younger. He inspired respect without demanding it, and Draco found he didn't want to disappoint him. He shook his head. "Look," Dawlish said flatly, "I don't care about any old animosity you two may still be dragging around. I expect you to get along and work together to solve this before any damage comes to those foals and we lose any more mares! Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Draco replied. Harry simply nodded.

Dawlish turned, then stopped in the doorway. "You two are the best in your divisions. I don't want any crap like the last time you pair of idiots were on a case together. Put your fucking heads together and figure this out! School's out, stop acting like you're still at Hogwarts. Magical creatures that we've just recently seen breeding again are in danger. Do not make me regret this, it will not end well for either of you." He strode out shaking his head.

Harry turned to Draco. Draco couldn't help but notice how anger really made the git's eyes greener than Wiltshire grass. It made him wonder how they'd look when he was aroused, and his traitorous dick twitched.

"Look Malfoy, I understand that you're the Ministry's expert here. And honestly, much as you make me want to hex you, I'd rather not fight with you."

Draco crossed his arms and leaned on the edge of Harry's desk. "I do believe there was a compliment buried in there, just before you told me you wanted to hex me."

"Your intelligence has never been in question," Harry said as if it pained him. "And I admit I don't know as much about unicorns as I probably need to for this assignment."

Draco was startled by the admission. Potter looked tired, rubbing a spot between his gracefully arching brows. That was probably the only reason he wasn't being an arse.

"Headache?" he asked gently. Potter looked up at him quickly, letting his hand fall to his desk. He looked like he might deny it for a moment, but then he closed his eyes and nodded. Suddenly glad he'd grabbed a headache potion that morning, Draco fished it out of the inner pocket of his robes. "Here," he said softly. Potter looked up, his eyes coming to rest on the small vial of mint green liquid Draco was offering him.

"Can I trust you not to poison me?" Potter asked. Draco felt a brief surge of annoyance, until he saw the small flare of amusement in Potter's extraordinary eyes. Draco placed the small glass vial on the desk and crossed his arms.

"If I was going to off you, Potter, I'd find a way to do it where I wasn't the only suspect."

Potter snorted what might have been a laugh. He took the stopper out of the vial and upended it into his mouth, and Draco watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. Gods, the man had matured into a fine specimen. He'd added muscle to his once scrawny frame, and his eyes were as large and green as ever. Only the curling black hair was the same as it had always been, and Draco wanted to sink his fingers into it, just as he always had.

"Thank you for that," Potter said, tossing the empty vial into his waste bin. "So, tell me about your background in unicorn studies."

"Seriously?" Draco asked a bit archly. "You're already questioning why I'm here? Not sure I have the brains to help?"

"Is that what I did?" Harry asked, frowning.

"It certainly sounded that way to me."

Harry held up his hands. "Seriously, Malfoy, you may jump on my very last nerve, but again, your intelligence has never been in question. I want to understand what you bring to the table."

"Aside from the obvious, more knowledge about unicorns than anyone in your division could ever hope to have," Draco retorted with a frown.

"Malfoy," Potter said, scowling.

"Potter," Draco replied.

"Oh brilliant, the Malfoy Potter circus is touring once again. Prepare for the big top to burn down!" Anthony Goldstein came into Harry's office, a large, shit-eating grin on his face. Harry leaned back in his chair, fingers linked on top of his head and a pained expression on his face.

"Excuse me? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Draco questioned.

Anthony waved his hands in the air. "This…this…you two bickering like an old married couple. It's the Penstrom case all over again. I'm not sure my brain won't explode this time."

"Yeah," came a voice from the squad room, "Merlin's sake, Potter, go and find someone this weekend and get laid. The sexual tension in here is giving all of us hives."

"Get fucked, Ellis," Harry muttered.

Anthony, one of the quickest people Draco had ever met, strode purposefully out to the squad room. "Enough, you arseholes. Merlin, you always have to take it one step past the line, don't you, Ellis." Draco covered a grin with his hand at the unmistakable sound of someone getting biffed on the back of his head. Anthony stuck his head back in the door long enough to wink at Draco.

"Call your best friend," he said. "If she finds out I've talked to you more recently than she has, I won't get laid for a month."

"Lovely mental image," Draco muttered.

"Oh, it is. Tits like a Goddess, that one." Anthony grinned and pulled the door closed.

Harry leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Can we just go over the high points of what we have here and call it a day? Then we can each read over everything at home before we meet back here at seven in the fucking morning."

Draco watched as Harry stood and came around the desk, settling into one of the two visitor chairs.

"What?" Harry asked. "Did you think I expected you to stand behind me reading over my shoulder? Or would you rather not sit next to me, now that you and the rest of wizarding Britain, and clearly some of my co-workers"—he glared at the closed door—"know that I'm queer?"

"I've no idea what to expect from you." Draco walked over slowly to pointedly sit in the other chair and crossed his long legs, his eyes fixed on Harry's face. "Although like almost everyone else in the UK, I can read."

Harry gave him an irritated look. "Skeeter," he said, his annoyance clear.

"Yes. I read Ms Skeeter's expose about your love life, Potter. With fascination."

The red blush was back creeping up Potter's neck, only now it was darker. "Oh, I'm sure you found it endlessly entertaining."

There was an opportunity here, an opportunity to really dig the knife in between Potter's ribs and twist it, and for some unfathomable reason Draco found he just couldn't do it.

"I didn't find it entertaining in the least," Draco said instead. "Now, can we look over these files so that we can get a few hours of sleep?"

Harry looked startled, and Draco enjoyed it for a moment, then leaned in and looked at Harry, brows raised. "Shall we?"

Harry nodded and flipped the file open. They began to look over the details together. After the first few pages, Draco turned to Harry and asked, "Is there any reason you can't duplicate this now so we can each peruse a copy?" He resisted adding not that I don't love the smell of sandalwood on a man, but it is a bit distracting.

Harry rolled his eyes before picking up his wand and pointing it at the file. "Geminio." The file duplicated itself and he shoved the new copy over towards Draco. "Better?"

"No need to get your wand in a knot, Potter," Draco replied, flipping through the pages. "I think maybe we'd be best served reading them alone and comparing notes in the morning."

"Look," Harry said with a sigh, "I don't know about you, but I'd prefer not to get reamed from here to Cardiff over us not getting along. Can we at least try to be civil to each other? Maybe drop the last names?"

Draco pursed his lips and then nodded. "I'm not going to say I might not slip and let a Potter out every so often, but I'll work on it… Harry." Ignoring the heat filling his face and hoping like hell he wasn't blushing like a first year, Draco looked down at the page in his hands. He paused. "Looks like the colony is in western Gloucestershire, somewhere called the Forest of Dean..."

"What did you say?" Harry interrupted. "Where?"

Draco looked up and noticed the colour had left Harry's face. "Potter? What's wrong?"

"Noth…nothing," Harry stammered. "Shit. The bloody Forest of Dean. Great."

"Does that mean something to you?" Draco felt like he was missing something important.

"No. It's fine, I'm just tired. Good idea to copy the file now. I'm going to head out and read this at home. Sound good?" Harry's voice wavered a bit.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a bit…off."

Harry gave a stiff laugh. "Worried about me, Malfoy?"

Draco thought about it for a few seconds and decided that whatever it was, it would come out in due time. Or by giving the case file a better look at home. "Can't say that I am. See you tomorrow, Potter."

Harry walked into the conference room at quarter to seven the following morning. His sleep had been peppered with dreams about the time he, Ron, and Hermione had spent in the Forest of Dean. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he really needed to hold it together until the case was over, especially with Malfoy watching his every move. Gods, he hoped he'd sleep better tonight; he felt like a wrung-out dishrag.

It had been years since he'd been haunted by the nightmares. At first they'd tortured him every single night until Arthur took him to a Healer for Dreamless Sleep potion. Which worked, until he was in danger of becoming addicted. Like everything else in his life at the time, the process seemed to be more complicated for him than it would have been for anyone else. He rubbed his forehead between his eyes, where a headache was already blooming. This day was going to be a fucking nightmare.

Nightmare; that was apparently going to be the word of the day for every day of this bloody case. Not only was he going to be forced back into the Forest of Dean, he was going to be with Malfoy of all people. Someone somewhere had a fucking warped sense of humour where he was concerned. Images from the dreams of the night before came back to him, and he closed his eyes tight, grimacing. Visions of a monstrously huge snake, its gaping maw locked around his bicep, the pain making him sick. Then there was a hideous Horcrux inside an ugly locket, the metal of it heating as it fused to the skin in the centre of his chest. The nasty scent of roasting flesh mingled with blood as Hermione sliced it away from his skin with her wand. He'd screamed, he thought, both then and last night, coming awake gasping, and sitting straight up with his heart hammering and his breath short as sweat dripped into his eyes. His throat still felt raw and he could see the winter-bare trees, branches reaching skyward like skeletal fingers with long, sharp nails. They'd caught in his jeans and robes and hair, yanking him down to the muddy, leaf covered ground, the smell of rot nearly overwhelming…

Dropping the case files on the table, Harry shuffled through them and pulled out a few pieces of parchment. He began to stick them to the crime board that hung on the wall, determined to do his damned job, no matter how fucking tired he was.

He heard quick footsteps approaching down the hall outside of the conference room door, start in and then stop. There was a pause. "I could have helped you with that," Draco said hesitantly.

Harry shrugged, but didn't turn around. He wasn't looking forward to Malfoy's far too knowing expression as he took in the dark circles under his eyes. "I got in early, no problem."

Draco moved to Harry's side and held out a large take-away cup. "Café au lait? I was also a bit early so I stopped on my way in."

"Uh, thanks," Harry said. He glanced at Draco from beneath his brows, faintly surprised to note that Draco didn't look any more well rested than he did himself. "How did you know that the only way I can drink coffee is if it's equal parts milk and coffee with lots of sugar?"

"I'm extremely observant," Draco replied. "In every meeting we've been forced to endure, your coffee order is the same; a Venti café au lait with five packets of sugar." One corner of his lips tipped up in a half smile. "It's astounding you're as fit as you are, considering the amount of sugar you take on board."

Harry felt his cheeks warm, and wondered if he was going to spend every minute in Draco's company blushing. He gestured towards Draco's cup. "So, what's in yours?"

"Flat white." Harry knew he looked as mystified as he felt. "Hot foamed milk over espresso, no sugar," Draco clarified. He smirked when Harry made a face. "I picked it up from a shop by my flat. You can't find a good cup of coffee anywhere within a mile of this building. Thank Merlin for warming charms, it should still be hot."

Harry gave a relieved sigh. "Thanks for sure then. I was afraid it was the swill from that place on the corner. I swear they boil old shoe leather and try to pass it off as coffee."

Draco hopped up onto the table and picked up his to-go cup, holding it between his hands. "Which is only a step above the complete crap in the staff cafeteria." He took a sip from his cup. "Not a whole lot of information in the file, is there?"

"Enough to point us to a forest in Gloucestershire." He knew it was stupid, but he just couldn't say the Forest of Dean. Not this early in the day. It opened wounds he'd hoped would remain closed forever. "The locals say that the herd has been roaming restlessly, moving around the area. Is that normal behaviour?"

Draco paused and Harry could see his mind working as he thought about the question. "I wouldn't say normal, necessarily," he answered finally, "but given the situation I imagine they don't feel safe. Unicorns are very intelligent and they may be trying to shield themselves from danger."

"Makes sense," Harry took another sip of his coffee. "This really is good, Malfoy, thanks."

"You're welcome." Harry felt the searching look he'd been anticipating.

"Looks as if the caffeine is welcome this morning. Had a bit of a rough night, did you?"

Harry felt a surge of irritation but stomped it down. Malfoy wasn't being an arse, for once. He was making a simple observation. "I don't always sleep well when I'm on a case," he offered grudgingly. "Especially one with as little information going in as this one."

Draco looked down at his coffee thoughtfully. "I was doing a bit of research into the area last night. The herd would need to be close to water, which gives us a few areas to focus on. I think we should start around Newnham. There's a good amount of forest that runs along the riverbank before it turns inland. After that it makes sense to head into the forest. Look for hints that they may have been there recently."

"That's a lot of land to cover before we can even consider stakeout spots to watch the herd and try to get a look at the poachers," Harry said. "It will help to know how many we're dealing with."

"Unless you have some inside information on the Forest of Dean that will lead us right to them," Draco suggested ruefully, "I'm not sure there's any other way."

Harry felt Draco's eyes on him and he was trying very hard not to flinch when Draco mentioned the Forest. He was certain he failed.

"Look, Potter," Draco went on, "traipsing about in the woods isn't exactly high on my list of fun things to do, either, and I know working with me isn't something you enjoy. But maybe for the sake of this case…"

The harsh laugh that burst from Harry's mouth surprised them both. "Malfoy, traipsing about in the woods with anyone is the last thing I ever planned to do again in my life. But you're right; hitting the ground is our only option. It's not like the unicorns are going to tell us where they're hiding. And the locals haven't been able to keep a good watch on them."

"Noted," Draco replied. "I've been thinking; the poachers must be using some sort of a spell or charm on the mares in order to get to the foals. Even immediately after birthing, a unicorn mother is going to try to fiercely protect her colt."

"Why steal the foals at all?" Harry asked, frowning slightly. "Why not just take the hair from the adult tail? Is there something about the babies that makes their hair and horn more valuable? I know they'd have to kill the adult to get the horn, right?"

"There's been quite a bit of research into unicorn foals in recent years," Draco answered. "They've discovered that there are properties in the horn of the foal, while it's still gold, that can amplify some healing potions, for example…" Draco paused momentarily, "How much do you know about unicorns? And I'm only asking because unless you've been given research from within the last two years, this is information you might not know."

Harry nodded. "I know whatever we learned at Hogwarts." He gave a stiff, mocking laugh. "It wasn't exactly in the Auror Handbook, if that's what you're asking."

"Okay." Draco set his cup aside and linked his fingers in his lap. "Unicorn foals lose their gold horn naturally anywhere between twelve and eighteen months of age. When collected immediately after it's shed, it can be harvested without damage to the horn or the foal. After that, there's a unique process to – well I guess the best word is pulverise the horn. Then it needs to be placed in small air-tight vials under a Stasis Charm. If done correctly, it can be added to certain healing potions that aren't behaving as effectively for a patient as they should be."

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "So clearly the poachers must have found out the latest information and are capturing the foals so they have control over them. Seems an awful lot of work for the horn."

"It's not just the horn, although that is the ingredient that will bring them the most money. Unicorns are still rare, in spite of recent recoveries in the population's birth rates. The golden hair from the baby's mane and tails have also been found to be more powerful than those of an adult. It is extremely unusual to separate the mother and baby. The mothers don't respond well to having their young taken away. From some articles I read last night, I think that's why the mothers are failing. It's not well documented, but there were some cases about a hundred years ago that seem to be similar."

A surge of anger made Harry clench his fists. "So these numpties are stealing foals from their mothers for their manes and tails and horns, causing the mothers to waste away with no thought to the future of the herd? Brilliant."

"I said it's a possible motive. Sometimes the intention isn't clear until the culprits are in custody. In the meantime, we need to get moving and head to the Forest of Dean and see if we can't stop this before we lose any more of this herd."

"Then how will we be able to move them back?" Harry wondered.

"I took the liberty of calling in a favour with one of my colleagues in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They provided us with magical transportation crates. The magic around them is fairly complex." He rolled his eyes as Harry immediately started to interrupt him. "And no, that does not mean I think you're stupid. Hell, Cooper had to explain it to me twice and I'm still not sure I can explain it properly."

Harry considered Draco's expression. "Okay, give it a go. As long as I have a general idea, we'll be good. You do know how to use them, right?"

Draco laughed. "Oh yeah, Cooper wasn't about to let me walk out the door with them last night until I was able to prove I could use them. Which, considering the time, meant I had to move him around the department inside one of them. I can go over it now with you, if you'd like."

Harry declined the need to know right that second, and Draco looked oddly pleased. Harry supposed that was an indication that he trusted Draco's level of knowledge and experience. Which was good, because he did.

"Okay, now let's talk about how you want to attack this search," Draco said, rolling a map of the Forest of Dean onto the table.

Harry nodded, hoping to Merlin being back in the Forest of Dean didn't reveal his weaknesses to Malfoy.

By the time a Portkey to Newnham was obtained, and their plan had been approved by Dawlish, it was the middle of the afternoon. Dawlish wasn't originally convinced that the two men could or should do the searching alone. But they were finally able to bring him around to their way of thinking; that the two of them alone would be able to move faster without having to coordinate every Apparition between a team of Aurors. Add that to the fact that two is far less conspicuous than three or four, and Dawlish came on board with their plan.

Harry and Draco landed in the designated office and turned in the coffee mug that functioned as their Portkey. In a bid to look like tourists, Dawlish's secretary, Eloise, had booked a room for them in a quaint little B&B that catered to Muggles. It was close to the part of the forest where they'd begin their search, and they had decided that posing as a couple would help them blend in.

"Well, this is interesting," Harry said, looking around their room. He dropped his rucksack on the floor and propped his hands on his narrow hips, frowning at the double bed against the far wall. "What are we supposed to do with that?"

Draco leaned back against the door and crossed one ankle over the other and looked thoughtfully at the bed. "I imagine the expectation was for us to sleep in it," he said. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, no need to get your pants in a bunch. I'll kip on the chair. It's not like I bite or anything."

He added, unless you ask nicely under his breath, relieved when it appeared Harry hadn't heard him. What the hell was he thinking?

"You're not sleeping in a chair," Harry said, clearly frustrated. "We'll sort it out."

Draco resisted the urge to come back with a pithy comment, letting the conversation die instead. He sat down on the chair, wondering if he'd ever walk again if he slept in it all night.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Draco stood again abruptly. Harry hadn't moved from where he'd settled, standing by the window. "I'm going to go take a look around town," he announced, turning toward the door.

"Alone?" Harry asked.

"Yes, alone," Draco replied, "I rather assumed you'd prefer that."

"I should probably come with you," Harry said tentatively.

Draco shrugged and walked out the door. "Suit yourself."

Harry caught up with him on the street. Even though it was just after four in the afternoon, the sun was already casting long shadows on the buildings. He caught Draco's sleeve, pulling him to a stop. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it."

This time Draco didn't hold back. "Right." He yanked his arm free and continued walking. Harry hurried to pull even with him.

"We already established I'm tired," he said. "And I'm not exactly smooth on my better days."

That startled a laugh from Draco. "As long as you brought it up, that's true." He shook his head. "I don't imagine either of us is exactly at our best right now. In the interest of peace, let's let it go. All right?"

Harry nodded, and Draco could see he was relieved.

They strolled up and down the streets of Newnham, taking in the picturesque little town with its clocktower and quaint shop fronts. After several minutes of silence, they began to talk quietly, trying to decide where they should head in the morning. Draco had packed a tent in his rucksack on the off chance they would have to stay in the woods a night or two, and he gave some thought to the idea that he might be better served if he took off in the morning on his own. Of course, Potter would kill him.

"Draco!" Harry practically shouted. Draco stopped and turned to him, frowning.

"What?"

Harry sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention."

"You have it now," Draco said. He looked around, just then noticing how dark it had become. Old fashioned, Edwardian style street lamps that had been converted to electric from gas burned brightly every few yards.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, leaving the curls standing on end. Draco wished he didn't find it so bloody attractive. "Could we please get something to eat? I'm famished."

Realising he could eat, Draco nodded and glanced around. The area they were in was fairly deserted, but it was a weeknight in a rural village.

Gesturing with his head, Harry spoke. "There was a pub back there. It might be our best option. I'm not sure, but I think we're too late for supper at the inn. I have Muggle cash on me."

"As do I, Potter. It's not my first-time tracking criminals in a Muggle area." He looked around where they stood. "I didn't notice it, but a pub sounds fine. Can you get us back there?"

Harry gave Draco a withering look. "Of course I can, I've been dropping bread crumbs since we left."

Draco glanced at the ground. "What?"

"It's from an old Muggle children's book." Harry shook his head. "Doesn't matter. We just need to head back in this direction."

He led Draco to the corner and turned down a side street where there was a pub strung with Muggle style Christmas lights; Draco wondered fleetingly if they'd put them up early or never bothered to take them down the year before. They walked across the street and stopped in front of the doorway, and wonderful smells wafted out each time the door opened. "This okay?" Harry asked.

"Smells more than." Draco opened the door and followed Harry inside.

It wasn't very crowded, and they ordered at the bar before taking a corner table with their pints. They were halfway through them without a word spoken between them, Potter staring morosely out the window, and finally Draco had had enough. "Okay, Potter, am I the problem or is there something else up your arse? Because if I have to count on you having my back right now, I'm not at all sure I wouldn't be better off on my own."

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands, his fingers speared through his black curls.

"I've packed so that I can go off alone, if need be," Draco continued. Harry looked up at Draco in surprise. "What? You don't think an Unspeakable has been trained for most possibilities, as surely as an Auror has? But truly, I need to know what is going on. And I swear if you say it's not you, it's me I will personally hex you with a case of raging genital warts."

Harry jerked back. "Harsh. I wasn't going to say that. For right now can we just go with it's complicated? I promise I'll explain it all to you, but not here. Not in the middle of a noisy pub."

Draco stared at him, uncertain what he was going to say when their food arrived, saving him from having to. They ate in virtual silence, save a few obligatory comments about the food. The walk back to the hotel felt ten times longer than the walk out had earlier. They both declined a nightcap from their hostess and made their way up the narrow stairs.

Once inside, Draco stared at Harry before he pulled his bath kit and some sleep clothes from his rucksack. Harry didn't seem disposed to talk at the moment, and Draco was certain pushing wouldn't help matters. He gestured towards the bath. "Do you need the toilet? I'm going to take a shower."

Harry shook his head. "I'm good."

Draco nearly quipped, 'I'll just bet,' but managed to hold his tongue as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

When Harry came out of the shower, Draco had pulled a blanket from the end of the bed and was sitting in the chair with it over his legs. He was reading the case file with far more interest than was necessary, but it gave him something to do so he didn't merely sit there and stare.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed. "Draco, you don't have to sleep in the chair. I'm sorry I overreacted."

"I'm perfectly fine, thanks," Draco answered without looking up. "Just let me know when you want to turn the lights off. I'm just refreshing myself on a few things." Not to mention it made it a bit easier to ignore the fact that Potter's damp t-shirt was clinging to his skin. He loved the shape of his broad shoulders, and the way his eyes flashed with surprising moments of quick intelligence. Merlin, just the way the man smelled; evergreens and wind and sandalwood. It made his mouth water.

With a sigh, Harry slid his legs under the covers and stretched out on his back, hands stacked under his head.

"That last year, before the war," Harry began to speak so softly Draco wondered for a moment if he was talking to himself. "Everybody jokes about how it must have been nice to spend all that time off on our own. But they don't understand. It wasn't nice. It was frightening, lonely and often terrifying."

He stopped talking and Draco wondered if he was finished. After a few moments, he turned his head to look at Draco. "Could you please come over here? You don't have to sleep here, but it might be easier for me to do this if I don't feel like I'm talking to myself."

Draco stood and put the files on the chair, then walked slowly around the bed, approaching Harry like he might a skittish animal. He sat carefully on the bed, then stretched out on his side so he faced Harry, with his head resting on his arm. "This okay?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded. He waved his hand, and the lights went off. Draco had seen him do wandless magic before, but it still sent a frisson of excitement up his spine.

"I think I can do this better in the dark, if you don't mind," Harry said.

"That's fine. Go ahead," Draco urged.

Harry took and released a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Even though I'd been fighting Voldemort all my life," he began, "it really escalated that summer after Dumbledore was killed. I never planned to go back to Hogwarts for our seventh year. I knew it was now my job to find where Voldemort had hidden the pieces of himself. Horcruxes. There were seven all together."

He paused for a moment. "Do you know what I'm talking about? Horcruxes?"

"Enough," Draco replied.

"Okay. Good," Harry continued. "I guess it really started when the Death Eaters ambushed us at Bill and Fleur Weasley's wedding, and the three of us barely escaped. Hermione Apparated all of us to Tottenham Court Road in London and we ducked into a café. But Death Eaters found us there, too, and we narrowly escaped again."

Harry told Draco how they went to Grimmauld Place and the events after that. He told him about getting the Horcrux from Umbridge when they broke into the Ministry, and their narrow escape from Yaxley. How Ron had been splinched and needed time to heal. How they'd travelled around on foot after that, tramping through the English countryside, hiding from everyone, magical and Muggle alike.

"We took turns wearing the Horcrux locket. Hermione and I were okay with it, but it affected Ron in a bad way. He'd always had a temper, but after wearing it for a day, he'd get really angry about things. One day he and I had a big row. Lots of stuff was said and, in the end, he left."

When he talked about Ron leaving them, Harry had to stop and take a deep, shuddering breath. Draco could see the silvery tracks of tears on his face, illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows. With a sigh so deep it sounded as if it came from his soul, Harry turned on his side to face Draco.

"I'm sure you think I'm a fool for crying after all this time."

Draco reached out and squeezed Harry's forearm, leaving his hand there, offering what support he could. "That's not at all what I'm thinking, but there's time for that later. I'd like you to continue, if you can."

Harry gave him a wan smile which faded quickly. "After Ron was gone, it was harder to keep moving about. Neither Hermione or I said it, but we kept hoping as we'd drop the wards to Disapparate, Ron would be just outside them…waiting." He closed his eyes. "He wasn't. Eventually, Hermione and I decided we needed to visit Godric's Hollow. I wanted to go because it was where I was born, where my parents died. But more than that I felt a strong pull to go there, like it was important somehow. We went, and realised it was Christmas Eve. We'd been on the run for over four months with not much to show for it. When we were there, we were tricked into going to the home of Bathilda Bagshot. I'd hoped it was where the Sword of Gryffindor was hidden, but it was a trap. Nagini was waiting for us and nearly killed me. Somehow Hermione got us both out of there and we ended up in… the Forest of Dean."

Draco's breath caught.

"Brilliant, Hermione was," Harry went on admiringly. "I don't think I mentioned that she'd Obliviated memories of her existence from her parents and sent them to live in Australia for the duration of the war. Anyway, when we first got to the Forest of Dean, she told me she'd visited this forest with her parents one summer and how the forest was just the same – only not. I remember her saying Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old... and for a moment I really wanted to. Just leave it all behind me. But it really wasn’t an option."

Draco could hear the emotion in Harry's voice. Without giving it much thought, he shifted closer to Harry on the bed and circled his nape with his hand, pulling Harry's head into his chest. Harry's curls brushed against Draco's chin, and he pressed his face into the front of Draco's shirt. He was malleable, almost curling into Draco like a small child and Draco longed to run his fingers through the thick dark hair, but he held back, unwilling to alarm Harry in any way. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Draco felt Harry shift and he started to release him.

"No," Harry said softly, "I just need to get my arm out. This helps, being like this, and I want to finish."

Draco resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Harry, just stroking the back of his neck with his thumb. He hoped his okay didn't sound as strangled as it felt in his throat.

"I was hurt pretty badly when we escaped from Godric's Hollow," Harry unconsciously touched a hand to his chest, "so we decided to stay in the Forest of Dean for a while. One night I was sitting watch; we took turns doing that. Hermione put up brilliant wards, but we felt safer if one of us was always watching. Anyway, while I was sitting there reading, a Patronus appeared in the forest. It was a doe, a beautiful brilliant white doe. It turned and started walking into the forest. I just sat there, not sure what to do. It turned around and I knew it wanted me to follow it."

"How did you know it wasn't another trap?" Draco asked quietly. He felt Harry shrug in the dark.

"My mother's Patronus was a doe, and I just knew somehow it wouldn't hurt me. I knew it was what I was supposed to do, so I followed it. It led me to a frozen pond and I could see the Sword of Gryffindor at the bottom. I broke the ice and stripped to my pants and dove in. It was so fucking cold, but I had one goal in mind. I grabbed the sword and tried to get back to the surface, but then the Horcrux… the only way I can describe it was as if it came to life."

Draco could feel Harry's heart pounding at the memory, and his own began to race as well. "It kept pulling me back down, tightening around my throat, trying to kill me. Suddenly just when I thought I was dead, I was on the frozen ground and the chain was no longer around my neck."

He gave an involuntary shudder, and Draco was sure he was remembering how cold he'd been that night. And how afraid he must've been.

"Turns out Ron was back, and he saved me. We destroyed the Horcrux with the sword, but we still needed some answers." Harry gave an exhausted yawn.

"We can pick this up later, if you'd like," Draco said.

"No, I need to finish."

Draco gave Harry's neck a squeeze.

"There was this symbol that kept turning up. In a book, on a grave in Godric's Hollow, and Xenophilius Lovegood had it on a chain he wore to the wedding. We decided to go see him and see what we could find out what it meant. Turns out it was the symbol for the Deathly Hallows."

"The what?" Draco asked before he could stop himself.

Harry gave a tired sigh. "That's going to have to be for another time. It's all intertwined and mixed together. But it has nothing to do with why I have bad memories of being in the Forest of Dean."

Draco tried to stop, but he yawned, too. "I do want to hear about all of this one day, Potter."

"Fair enough." Harry continued, his voice rough from talking and needing sleep. "As you know, Luna had been taken." Draco stiffened against him, but Harry laid his hand in the centre of Draco's chest. "Don't. I only mentioned it because it has to do with what happened next. Anyway, her father was desperate to get her back and some Death Eaters had told him they'd release her if he gave them…well, me." He yawned again. "So when we tried to leave, he intentionally said Voldemort's name, knowing it was under the Taboo spell and it would bring Death Eater's to his house. Hermione, Ron and I tried to hide upstairs, but they detected us and it was about to be all over. And then Hermione saved us again. I'd be dead a dozen times over without her. Mind, she nearly blew us up in the process, but she got us out of Luna's place."

Harry shifted on the bed so he was looking up into Draco's face. "The bad news was once we Disapparated back to the Forest of Dean, we wound up smack in the middle of a group of Snatchers. Who brought us to the Manor and you know everything after that."

Draco began to pull away. "If I could change anything in my life," he said, remorseful, "it would be how things played out when they first brought you to the Manor."

"I know," Harry said, no blame on his face, "and we'll talk about it, but not now. We both need sleep and we need to find the bastards who are stealing the unicorn foals."

"I'll just…"

Harry interrupted him. "If you move off this bed, I will…I will… Cripes I'm so tired I can't even think of a good threat. Just don't go, sleep here. I promise to try not to hog all the covers."

Draco found himself smiling slightly as he let his hand slip from Harry's neck. "Fair enough. Thank you for sharing that, I know it wasn't easy."

"You needed to know." He chewed his lower lip for a minute. "Draco, when we were taken by the Snatchers, we left the tent. I know it's been seven years, but with all the enchantments on it, I can't help but wonder if it's still out there. If we unwittingly gave the poachers a place to stay..."

"Only way to find out is to figure out where it is. Do you know exactly where you were when you were here last? The Forest of Dean covers thousands and thousands of acres. You could have been anywhere."

"I don't have a clear picture of exactly where we were, no. I mean it's a forest…full of trees…that all look the same. The last time we Apparated in, I remember the tent wasn't right there. I guess we'll figure it out tomorrow when we start looking. G'night, Draco."

"Night, Harry." Draco listened to Harry's breathing even out, charmed as he fell asleep, seemingly finally unburdened.

Draco couldn't help but think it was no wonder everyone who knew Harry loved him; he was the most artlessly courageous person Draco had ever met, and he was afraid he'd fallen hard that night himself. His last thought was this is so much more than a 'pash'.

His relief at remembering Harry and the unicorns was short-lived until a quick glance under the covers reassured Draco that he was still in his t-shirt and joggers. He slowly lifted his arm from where it had found its way around Harry's waist, missing the warmth of the contact immediately. He slid carefully to the edge of the bed and shimmied so he could get a foot on the floor. Once standing, he looked down at Harry and remembered the night before and the story Harry had trusted him with. In his sleep, Harry's face was slack and he looked younger than his twenty-four years. Draco felt a new sense of wonder at the man before him; if he'd been through what Harry had been, he thought he'd look a hundred years old. After looking his fill at a handsome man sleeping peacefully in the bed, Draco gathered his clothes and headed toward the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When he came out a short time later, Harry was sitting on the side of the bed.

"All yours," Draco said, gesturing to the bath. "I'm going to go down and get some breakfast for us. Anything you won't eat? Oh, and coffee or tea?"

Harry smiled. "That sounds great. I don't generally do a big breakfast, mostly because I'm running late. So just something light and coffee with milk..."

"And a pound of sugar," Draco said with a slight grin. Harry returned it.

"Yeah. Thanks. I'll hurry so I'm ready when you're back." Harry disappeared into the ensuite.

Draco left as he heard the shower turn on.

Harry was standing by the window when Draco came back to their room with a tray positively overflowing with food. The room was faintly steamy and scented of sandalwood, and he set their breakfast on the small table in the corner of the room.

"Apparently our hostess, Loretta, refuses to believe some of us only have buttered toast and coffee or tea to start the day."

Harry turned and gaped at the mountain of food Draco had brought back. "Draco, we couldn't eat all that if we stayed here for a week!"

"You go down there and tell that sweet little old lady that this is too much for two strapping young men, who need their energy. I dare you."

"I'd probably have as much success as you did, and might even come back with more food." He looked at the tray and laughed.

Draco grabbed some buttered toast and the cup of tea and settled on the side of the bed to eat. "Before I fell asleep last night, I was thinking. What do you think if we check out today when we leave? I know we're booked for two more days, but I can't stop thinking about how much time we'll waste if we have to return here every night."

Harry bit into a scone. "Where would we stay? This was the only place Eloise booked for us. To use like a base camp."

Draco nodded. "Right and before we got here it made sense. But now that we're here, it just all feels so much more urgent that we find that colony. And if we're following the river during the day and coming back here at night, we're just going to be covering some of the same ground every day. Not to mention the time spent recording coordinates before Apparating back."

Harry chewed thoughtfully. "It makes sense, but there's still the problem of where we'd stay." He looked down at all the food left on the tray. "I suppose food wouldn't be an issue, we can just put this under a Stasis Charm and eat it until it's gone."

"I know you don't have good memories about being in a tent in this forest," Draco said with a wince, "but I did mention before dinner last night I had a tent packed."

Harry's eyes grew large behind his glasses. "I thought you were joking."

Draco shook his head and gestured toward his rucksack.

"You have a tent in there?" Harry looked unconvinced.

"Undetectable Extension Charm," Draco said a bit smugly. "Not sure who figured out how to make it undetectable, but it's pretty remarkable magic."

Harry choked on his toast. "What?"

"It's an additional bit of magic that makes the charm undetectable, so it gets under Ministry radar." Draco shrugged. "Probably not exactly legal, but handy."

"Yeah, Hermione came up with it before we went on the run."

Draco blinked several times. "Hermione Granger?"

"Know a lot of people named Hermione, do you?" Harry teased. "Yes. She came up with the undetectable part for packing all of our things. She had this small bloody beaded bag with the charm on it."

"Unbelievable. She was what? Seventeen?" He kept shaking his head. "No wonder I could never best her in classes. She really is brilliant."

Draco could see the admiration on Harry's face as he spoke. "She truly is. I don't doubt for a minute she's the reason we accomplished the things we needed to do to defeat Voldemort. Ron's no slouch either. He's a dab hand at strategy."

"Well, let's hope some of that rubbed off." Draco checked his watch. "We should get going. Light will be better earlier in the day. We can tell Loretta we're checking out when we get downstairs. No sense having her worry about us when we don't show up at night and we definitely don't want anyone reporting those two nice gentlemen as missing."

"Right," Harry said, shoving his things in his rucksack. "Do you have a particular area you think we should try first? I really didn't do much research into the area, after…well you know."

Draco nodded. "It's fine. I know back at the Ministry I said we should stick close to the river, but now I think we should be more inland. The unicorns will want cover of the forest more than they'll want to be next to the water. I looked at a few areas and set a plan. If you want, we can look at one of the maps I have."

Draco put the food under a Stasis Charm and packed it carefully into his rucksack. "It should be fine as long as the tent doesn't fall on it."

Harry laughed. "For us it was all the books Hermione had packed."

They gave the room a final scan and headed down to the lobby. Loretta made an attempt to get them to keep the room, but Draco assured her they would not be looking for a refund. After giving them a box of sandwiches, she finally let them leave.

"I'll put those in my pack," Harry said, taking the box of food from Draco. "We can have these for lunch."

The Apparition point was just down the block and they reached it quickly. Draco looked quizzically at Harry. "I can give you the coordinates, or you can Side-Along. Whichever you prefer." He was afraid to look at Harry, afraid Harry wouldn't trust him enough. When he felt Harry's arm slide into his, for a moment he felt a bit faint with relief.

"Okay then," Draco said, "we're headed to an area called Dymock Wood. It's more inland, but some of the things I've read, and you've confirmed telling me about the doe, tell me that there are ponds and forest openings that might attract a herd."

As Harry nodded, Draco spun them into the air with an audible pop. They landed in a small opening in the middle of a lush, green forest. The trees were densely populated and it was considerably cooler than it had been in town.

"Anything look familiar?" Draco asked, when they had gained their footing on the soft forest floor.

Harry turned in a slow circle, looking out past the trees. "Not really, they're trees and like I said before, they all look the same to me. I was more concerned with getting our wards up. Hermione was the best at Apparating, so most of the time she would determine where we'd end up."

"According to the map, we're in the northern woods of the Forest of Dean. Between Mitcheldean and Drybrook. The forest covers over twenty-five thousand acres and I know we can't cover every inch of it. But if we make educated jumps and kind of cross-hatch our way down, we might just get lucky," Draco said.

Harry was looking around at the trees and the grass. "It was winter when we were here before. Around Christmas, in fact. Everything was different. The trees were pretty bare, except for the pine trees." He shrugged. "This isn't finding the colony. Which way do you think we should head?"

Draco gestured to the right and they set off in silence. After about an hour of walking, he stopped. "I don't think they're here; we're pretty far north and away from the river. Let's Apparate more to the west and look there."

Wandering back and forth again, they still came up with nothing that looked like any of the unicorns had been near the area. Draco sat on a fallen tree and opened his rucksack. After rummaging around in it, he pulled out a folded square of parchment.

"I'm starving, not to mention tired of wandering. Let's look at this map while we eat something and get a better idea of where to head."

"Sounds as good as anything I've got." Harry dropped to sit on the dry leaves littering the forest floor. He took the box of sandwiches from his rucksack and set it between them on the log. They ate in companionable silence. After they were done with lunch and had pored over the map, Draco packed everything away and they stood side by side in the clearing.

"Lead on, MacDuff," Harry said with a smirk. Draco arched a brow.

"Shakespeare. Who knew?"

"Hey," Harry pretended to be offended. "I can read."

"Yeah, so you say."

Harry was about to protest again when Draco Apparated them away with a wry grin.

They spent much of the afternoon tromping through the heavy woods. Sounds in the underbrush made them freeze, but once it was a rabbit and another time a badger. The sun was slanting low through the trees and the sound of the river rushing over rocks came from the near distance when Harry ran his hand through his hair, front to back, and sighed.

"I don't know about you," he said to Draco, "but I'm knackered."

"So am I," Draco said in relief, picking up one of his feet and rotating it as if it pained him. "Time for the tent?" he asked carefully, watching Harry's face.

Harry knew he didn't look enthusiastic, but he nodded as he let his rucksack fall to the ground. "If you have any kind of buckets or jugs in there, I'll go and get some water."

Draco was about to remind Potter he was a wizard and they could cast an Aguamenti for water, but figured he might need a few minutes to gather himself. "Aurors don't come prepared, eh?" Draco teased instead. Harry gave him a dry look.

"I have one canteen," he said with a sardonic smirk. "It doesn't hold enough other than for drinking, and I was thinking you might be the one who wanted to wash down."

"And I might want you to wash down if you think you're sharing a tent with me."

"Hey," Harry protested. "Are you trying to tell me I smell?"

"Me?" Draco spread his hand in the centre of his chest. "Would I do that?"

Harry gave a short laugh. "Yes, I rather think you would."

Draco put his rucksack on the ground, crouching next to it. He removed the tent first, a neat square of waxed linen about the size of a greeting card, and lay it on the ground. Then he took out two jugs that fit in the palm of his hand. He enlarged them and handed them off to Harry, who took them and moved off in the direction where he could hear rushing water. The river was wide and fast moving, and Harry was careful as he filled the two jugs to the brim.

By the time Harry returned, the tent was sitting fully built in the clearing. Light illuminated it from the inside and Harry paused, his breath catching as the sight sent him back seven years. His heart lodged in his throat and he swallowed around it. This tent wasn't as big, but other than that the resemblance was uncanny. Until he paused just inside the door flap.

He should have known the bare-bones tent they'd lived in wouldn't do for Malfoy, and he fought a smile. It wasn't draped in silks or covered in tapestries or anything, but there was a fireplace with a small fire, two armchairs and a camp stove and a small ice box. Through a flap Harry could see another room with two proper twin beds rather than camp beds, complete with bedding. Draco was hanging his uniform jacket in a small wardrobe next to a two-person breakfast table, and he turned to see Harry watching him.

"What?" he said defensively, taking a pair of navy slacks from the rucksack, shaking them out and hanging them up.

"Nothing." Harry came forward, holding out the jugs. "Where do you want these?"

"By the sinks," Draco answered as if wanting to add, 'where else?' "One in the kitchen, there, and one in the loo."

Harry's brows shot up. "There's a loo?"

Draco gave him a dumbfounded look. "Of course, there's a loo. You don't expect me to relieve myself in the forest at night, surely?"

"Oh, of course not," Harry answered with just the slightest irony. He looked for the loo, which was through another flap leading from the kitchen, amazed at the magic contained in just that one small room. "What, no shower?"

He heard Draco huff from the outer room. "It's a tent, Potter. That's why we showered last night."

"Oh, well, what was I thinking?" Harry muttered, smiling as he left one of the jugs in the bath next to the sink. He was glad Malfoy's experience with camping didn't match his; sleeping in another bare-bones tent on a camp bed with nothing but a sleeping bag in the middle of this particular forest might have made rest impossible, and he was tired.

Draco was sound asleep, worn out from tramping through the undergrowth. But in his dream, he wasn't exhausted; he was lingering over Harry, his hand slowly unbuckling Harry's thigh harness, fingers stroking the strong muscles the harness accentuated. In his dream Harry moaned. Then a sharper, strangled, real sound made its way into his consciousness, and he blinked awake. He sat up, listening, as cold air brushed against his face. He could hear the wind moving through giant trees over the canvas roof, and he was instantly reminded he was in a tent in the Forest of Dean, and the figure thrashing in the bed next to him was Potter. Harry groaned, and whimpered, and Draco slid from under his blankets with their cosy warming charms and went to bend over him.

They'd left a lantern burning on the small kitchen table, and Draco could see the sheen of sweat on Harry's smooth, pale face, his dark brows drawn down between his tightly closed eyes.

"Potter," he said, careful not to touch Harry. Even though Draco could see Harry's wand on the small table between the beds, he didn't really want to find Harry going for it and knocking him on his arse. "Potter."

The man wasn't waking, and he looked so frightened and miserable that it pulled at Draco's heart.

"Harry," he said louder, finally placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. His body felt hot under Draco's palm and he jerked awake, green eyes wide with incomprehension, pulling away. "It's all right," Draco said, gripping the sweat-dampened sleep shirt that was exposed above the blankets. "Harry, you're all right."

Draco saw understanding return slowly to Harry's eyes and he collapsed against the pillow as he rubbed his hand over his face.

"All right, then?" Draco asked.

Harry let his hand drop to his side. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Bad dream?"

Harry closed his eyes, his long black lashes forming crescent shaped shadows on his cheekbones before he opened his eyes again, nodding wearily.

"Want to talk about it?" Draco offered, and Harry snorted softly.

"Not particularly," he answered. "Just…Forest of Dean stuff."

"Understandable, considering."

"Yeah."

"Okay." Draco straightened. "I'm going back to sleep, okay?"

Harry nodded, rolling to his side and pulling the blankets up over his shoulder. Draco nodded, slipping between the sheets on his own bed. The warming charms had faded, and he picked up his wand from where it was lying next to Harry's on the nightstand, and restored the enchantments. Warmth caressed his feet and a soft sigh slipped between his lips as he settled back under the bedding.

"Draco?"

Draco rolled to his side and saw Harry holding out his hand, waiting.

Draco caught it in his, gripping it firmly.

"What is it?"

"Just," Harry stared at him for a moment, biting his lower lip. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For… being here."

Draco slipped his fingers between Harry's, gripping his hand firmly.

"You're welcome."

They fell asleep, their hands linked between the beds.

When Harry woke the next morning, he could hear movement coming from the other room. It wasn't furtive, just soft, as if Draco was going about his morning routine but quietly, making an effort not to wake him. He sat up and rubbed his palms over his face, and when the blankets pooled at his waist, he realised warming charms had been cast on the air inside the tent. He could also smell coffee, and taking a deep breath, he threw back the blankets and rose, padding into the kitchen on stockinged feet. He noticed for the first time there were rugs on the floors, and he was grateful on behalf of his toes.

He paused in the doorway between the tiny bedroom and the equally tiny kitchen and watched as Draco stood at the counter, adding milk to a steaming coffee mug before slipping it back into the small ice box. He was already neatly dressed in his black Unspeakables jacket and the navy trousers he'd been hanging up the night before, his hair damp and combed neatly back and his jaw neatly shaved. Harry had noticed a bit of stubble during their dinner the night before, and just seeing it had made something primal in his chest ache. He'd wanted to rub his thumb over it, wanted to pull him down into the narrow bed with him when Draco had woken him from his nightmare and hold him; just hold him. Fortunately, his reasoning had persevered; the last thing he needed right now was the complication of a crush that could go nowhere. A crush, truth be told, he'd had for as long as he could remember.

Draco turned and saw him standing there, and one of his brows arched.

"Good morning," he said. "How are you feeling?"

Harry knew what Draco was asking, and he didn't even consider lying. They'd come too far for that.

"I'm all right," he answered. Draco held his gaze, clearly not believing him. "No, I am. I'm—sore. Muscles. I tense up all over when I have the dreams but it gets better as I move around."

Draco continued to study him for a long moment, then finally nodded. "I have an anti-inflammatory potion, if you'd like."

"That would be welcome. Thank you."

Draco dried his hands on a small dish towel that looked more expensive than anything Harry owned. "I'll get it and be right back," he said. "Your coffee is here."

"You didn't need to do that," Harry said. Draco gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

"Don't be an idiot."

He turned and left the kitchenette and Harry watched him go. "Well, there's me told." He stood at the counter, not sure what he should do.

Draco returned and gave him an impatient look. "Sit down, you numpty." He sat a heavy mug and a vial with lilac-coloured potion in it in front of Harry, then pulled out the other chair and sat, taking an oh so very polite sip of his coffee.

Harry bit back a slightly amused smile and picked up his mug, holding it between his palms.

"Thank you."

Draco looked slightly surprised. "You're welcome." He speared some fruit and placed it on a small plate. "You should take the potion, then eat. I imagine we've another day trooping through the woods ahead of us."

"Probably," Harry agreed. He uncorked the vial. "Do I take all of this?"

"Yes."

Harry felt Draco's eyes as he swallowed the potion, prepared for it to taste vile. Most potions he got from his Healer did. This one had a slightly sweet, flowery taste that wasn't at all unpleasant. "Did you brew this?"

"I brew all of my potions for personal use," he said. "Why?"

"The taste." One of Draco's mobile brows arched. "It doesn't make me want to vomit."

Draco laughed, as if the sound surprised even him. "Well, I suppose it's better than the alternative."

"Much." Harry sipped his coffee. "You never did tell me where you got this tent."

"Did you ask?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "I don't believe I did," he admitted. "So?"

Draco took a bite of a scone and a sip of tea, and Harry sat perfectly still, waiting him out. Finally, Draco's lips quirked.

"My, my. Your patience has grown by leaps and bounds. Advanced Auror training, I assume?"

"I had to be doing something all these months since we last worked together." Harry shrugged and Draco grinned. Finally, Harry's self-control wavered and he gave Draco a small smile. "I'm trying to follow John's instructions and act like a grown up. You?"

Draco swallowed his smile and nodded with faux earnestness. "Oh, same. Obviously."

"Obviously. So, the tent?"

Draco set down his coffee cup and speared a chunk of pineapple with a fork. "It was a gift from Pansy's mum. We used to set it up in the back garden and pretend we were on vacation."

"Ah. Hence all the luxuries."

"Well, minor luxuries, but yes. Precisely. Can you imagine Pansy camping in anything less?"

"I can't imagine Pansy Parkinson camping, full stop."

"Well, she actually didn't. At least, not much. But I've kept it all these years, just in case it was to come in handy." Harry grinned, and Draco shrugged awkwardly.

"Well done, you," Harry said. He studied Draco's wardrobe. "Aren't you going to be a bit uncomfortable in that get up while tromping through the undergrowth? You didn’t wear it yesterday."

Draco looked down at his severe jacket. "Well, I couldn’t exactly leave a Muggle hotel dressed in an Unspeakable uniform, now could I? Also, I figured if we're going to be putting poachers under arrest, I'd best at least look official."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I assume that means I'm back in the red and gold, then."

Draco smirked. "You ought to find yourself comfortable in the colour scheme."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and put a scone and some melon on his plate. "I modify them a bit, just for the sake of mobility."

"I noticed at the Ministry the other day. Jeans and t-shirts for Potter. No regulation uniform for him."

Harry scowled at him around his mug. "You try duelling in those bloody robes. I made them make mine a jacket, and I leave them open because they're fucking hot. The thigh-holster gives me access to my wand in every situation." He picked up a scone and pointed at Draco with it. "I notice your robes aren't exactly regulation either."

"This is a regulation field robe." He made the statement emphatically, but his face was bright red.

"Suurree." Harry laughed. "Face it, Malfoy, you're every bit the renegade I am."

Draco sniffed. "God forbid." He bit into a scone. "At any rate, how are you feeling this morning?"

Harry felt himself colour. His first impulse was to pretend he had no idea what Draco was talking about, but he knew that wouldn't fly. "I'm all right," he said finally. "Just embarrassed I woke you in the night."

Draco frowned, then shook his head. "Don't be stupid. You're under stress, and things you've not thought about in years have crept back into your dreams. It's not something you can help, and it's not something I'm going to give you grief about. Let's just…" he gestured a bit awkwardly, "forget about it."

Harry studied him. "What if it happens again?"

Draco held his gaze. "Then we deal with it when the time comes. Now," he went on, clearly changing the subject, "today I thought we might Apparate over to the woods behind Blakeney; there is excellent tree cover and several water features where the herd could drink. It's a start, at least."

"It is," Harry agreed, hoping they'd finally find something.

Harry watched in utter fascination as Draco magically packed away the tent. He'd watched Hermione do the same dozens of times, but for some reason when Draco did it, Harry found it beautiful. His movements were graceful and elegant, and he doubted he'd ever performed magic like that in his life. When Draco was done, the small rectangular packet remained on the ground, and he picked it up and tucked it neatly into his rucksack. Harry quickly turned away, pulling his hip length uniform jacket closed over a completely inconvenient physical reaction to the magic that had swarmed him. The last thing he needed was for Draco to notice that.

They set off through the thick underbrush and Harry thought this looked to be the most likely place they'd searched for the herd so far. There was plenty of grass for grazing, still pools of clear water and even a creek that ran through the area, small waterfalls dotting its route. And still, aside from grey squirrels and a red fox kit, the only animals they saw were mule deer and sheep. By the time the shadows began to lengthen, they were hot, tired and sweaty, and no closer to finding the herd than they'd been that morning. Harry knew cases like this often took days if not weeks, but internally he could feel the clock ticking, counting off the seconds left in the lives of the sick mares.

Draco set up the tent while Harry cast the wards, and they went through the same routine as the night before, mostly in silence. Frustration was thick in the air, but fortunately they both had the good sense to just let it dissipate without releasing it on one another. Harry was glad they'd matured at least that much.

They ate the rest of the sandwiches Loretta made for them before they left the inn, then took turns in the tiny loo. Harry was wound so tight he doubted he'd ever sleep that night, but the moment Draco turned off the small lamp between the beds, he drifted off.

Draco was sound asleep, worn out from tramping through the undergrowth. But in his dream, he wasn't exhausted; he was lingering over Harry, his hand slowly unbuckling Harry's thigh harness, fingers stroking the strong muscles the holster accentuated. In his dream Harry moaned.

Then a sharper, strangled, real sound made its way into his consciousness, and he blinked awake.

"No," a man's deep voice murmured, so pained it caught at Draco's heart. "Please, no. Leave her alone. Leave her alone. She doesn't know anything. We didn't steal it…"

Draco blinked his eyes open, lifting his head and looking over at Harry's bed. Even in the dim light Draco could see that he was asleep, but he was tossing restlessly and there were silvery tracks of tears on his tan cheeks. Hearing and registering what Harry was muttering, Draco knew he could only be reliving one event and his stomach turned over.

"Fuck," he murmured. That long ago afternoon, the sound of Granger's tortured screams, had haunted his dreams for months. He could only guess how it was for someone who loved her as much as Harry clearly did. He threw back his bedding and stood, catching his breath as the cold air curled around his feet. He'd need to remember to beef up the heating charms in the morning. Autumn was turning to winter more quickly than they'd anticipated, and that simply made their search even more desperate. The sick mares would never have the immune system left to withstand the first frost.

But for now, he had Potter to deal with. His restless movements were growing more desperate, and Draco leaned over him, touching his shoulder. "Potter," he murmured. Harry jerked away from his hand with a guttural sound. He gentled his tone. "Harry…"

Potter's hard fist connected with Draco's cheekbone, and he reeled backwards, falling hard on his arse. "Fucking hell," he muttered. He massaged the sore cheekbone for a moment, knowing there would be a spectacular bruise on it the next day, then rolled to his hands and knees and pushed up. He went back to Harry's bed and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him with none of the gentleness he'd used before.

"Potter," he said sharply. "Wake up."

Harry's eyes opened abruptly, so abruptly it made Draco take a step back. There wasn't much comprehension in them, and he didn't want to find himself beaten to a pulp. Even in the dim light filtering in from the small table in the kitchen, his eyes were so bloody green, they pulled Draco in like a spell. Tentatively, Draco retraced his steps and moved a few inches closer.

"Are you awake?" he asked Potter, watching him. Harry nodded.

"Did I hit you?" Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing at his temples.

"I'll live," Draco said. "Headache?"

Potter hesitated, then sighed and nodded. Draco went to the wardrobe in the other room, opening the doors and digging through his rucksack. The potions were all together and he could tell them one from the other by the shape of the vials. Headache potion was in a hexagonal shaped vial, and he took it from his rucksack, pushing the cupboard doors closed before he turned back to the bedroom.

Harry was sitting up in his narrow bed when Draco returned, his face in his hands. He looked so defeated, sitting there, that any animosity Draco might have felt evaporated.

"Here." He held out the vial.

Harry dropped his hands, looked up at Draco with tortured eyes.

"I hit you," he repeated.

"It doesn't matter. Drink this."

Harry looked staggered. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter. Draco, for fuck's sake…"

"Harry, it's in the middle of the goddamned night and you were having a nightmare. It wasn't me you were hitting. It was probably my batshit Auntie Bella, and I only wish you'd actually been able to land that punch on her face. Now, will you drink this?"

Harry hesitated only a moment, then nodded and took the vial from Draco's hand. He pulled the stopper and drank the potion, then handed the empty vial back. Draco put it on the nightstand.

"It'll take a few minutes to take effect, but you should wake without the pounding."

"Thanks." Harry stared up at him, regret still stamped on his features. He leaned over and picked up his wand. "I learned a few simple healing charms while we were traipsing around through this bloody forest before. If you trust me…"

Draco hesitated. Did he? That was the question, wasn't it? He shifted closer and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry turned on the light with a wave of his hand. His fingers lifted to Draco's face, and it took about everything he had to let Potter gently catch his chin and turn his face into the light. He grimaced.

"I'm not sure I can deal with all of it," he said softly. "Looks like I caught you at just the right angle. It's already starting to swell. But I can at least ease the swelling."

He lifted his wand and Draco closed his eyes. He felt the smooth tip of Potter's famous wand move over his cheek, and soothing warmth followed in its wake.

"Oh," Draco murmured in relief. "That's… nice."

"Good." He heard the click as Harry's wand was set back on the nightstand, and opened his eyes, going very still in surprise. Harry's face was inches from his, his eyes as wide as Draco was sure his were.

"Sorry," Harry murmured. "I didn't realise…I was so close." He started to shift back, and Draco moved without thinking, his hand curling around Harry's upper arm. Harry looked as stunned as Draco felt. What the hell was he doing?

"Draco?" Harry murmured.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, feeling his face heat, letting his hand fall away. "I don't know what…"

Harry grabbed his hand before he could pull away completely, holding it tight.

"Don't you?" Harry whispered. Draco swallowed against a suddenly dry throat as he stared into the wide green eyes. They stared for moments that felt like hours, then both leaned in, slowly, haltingly, at the same time. When their breath, moving more quickly than normal, mingled Draco nearly pulled away but before he could, Harry closed the distance remaining, angling his head and sealing his lips over Draco's.

Draco's shoulders stiffened. His thoughts careened wildly. He should pull away, he should push Harry down onto his back and crawl on top of him and give him the shag of his life, he should run out of the room before he lost his fucking mind. Then Harry's tongue touched his upper lip, and slid along the seam of Draco's mouth and Draco felt heat rush over his body like a spreading brush fire. Harry's hand curled around his nape, fingers spearing into the hair above the collar of his pyjama top, and Draco moaned, his hand climbing, caressing the hard muscles of Harry's chest. Completely unintentionally his thumb brushed the hard nub of one of Harry's nipples, and now it was Harry's turn to moan.

"Fuck," he said against Draco's mouth. "Don't stop, please."

Draco spread his hand, cupping a rounded pectoral muscle and squeezing, and Harry forced Draco's lips open further, his tongue filling his mouth. When Draco caught it against his soft palate and sucked hard, a shudder ran through Harry's upper body. Abruptly his arms wrapped around Draco's shoulders and he pulled him against his chest, turned, and pressed Draco down onto his back. Draco made a noise he'd deny if reminded about it later, but instinctively spread his legs and arched up against Harry's insistent, narrow hips as they settled against him. Potter was hard. But then, to his complete lack of surprise, so was he.

Harry's hand slid between them and over the front of Draco's pyjama pants, and Draco spared a moment to thank the impulse that had him throwing the white and grey striped night clothes into his rucksack. Normally he slept in something very like what Harry was wearing; a disreputable Henley and plaid flannel sleep pants. (Of course, nothing Draco owned was disreputable, but on Harry the shirt, pulled taut over his broad shoulders, the thread bare neck stretched out of shape over his completely kissable throat, had given Draco several uncomfortable moments the night before while he'd held Harry's hand. And then again that morning.) Knowing he'd been going to share a room with Potter, he'd included the long sleeved, v-neck set Pansy had given him for Christmas several years before. They were faintly prudish—she'd told him if he was going to sleep alone, he might as well wear luxury—but silk, and clearly Harry liked touching them. His palm cupped Draco's hard prick, and he made a noise into Draco's mouth that was almost as arousing as his touch.

Draco hadn't consciously decided 'what the hell', but when he felt the press of Harry's hard-on against his thigh, he slid his hand up Harry's thick thigh to the bulge between his legs. Harry wasn't wearing anything under the red and black plaid flannel pants, and his hardness tented the worn thin fabric. Draco curled his fingers around an impressive girth and as they rubbed one another in turn, they began to move, hips humping with blooming desperation.

"Merlin," Harry gasped. He leaned back enough to go at the buttons on Draco's shirt and Draco stared up into his eyes, the pupils blown wide with arousal. When he had the shirt open, Harry leaned down, opening his mouth over one of Draco's stiff pink nipples, his teeth biting lightly at first, then harder. Draco arched his back, hissing. When his mouth brushed the edge of a raised scar on Draco's chest, Harry paused.

"I'm sorry I…" Harry started.

Draco pressed a finger on Harry's lips to quiet him. "In the past. We were stupid children, both casting curses we had no business even knowing. Let it go and get your mouth back on my body."

Harry gave a weak laugh. Draco's eyes nearly crossed as he felt Harry kiss his way around Draco's scars and up his neck.

"I want you so bad," Harry said, his mouth opening on Draco's throat. "I've wanted you this bad ever since…"

"When?" Draco asked. It was suddenly important, very important. "Since when?"

Harry pulled back, staring down into his eyes. He looked…afraid, and Draco lifted his hand and laid it on Harry's cheek. "It's okay." He stroked his thumb over Harry's lower lip. "Since when, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath, then sighed. "If I had to put a beginning on it, I'd say fifth year."

"But, the Weaslette," Draco said. Harry closed his eyes for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm not proud of that. And then I got—really busy, and I didn't have to think about it for a really long time." Harry began to withdraw, and Draco cursed inwardly. Why hadn't he just kept his mouth shut? "If you'd rather not…"

"Actually," Draco said, marshalling his courage, "if you stop now, I may kill you. Because I think I've wanted you since fourth year when you kicked a Hungarian Horntail's arse."

Harry stared at him then smiled slowly, and Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him closer.

"It was the dragon that did it for you, huh?"

Draco shrugged. "That, and figuring out I preferred cock to fanny during the summer between second and third years."

"I always knew you were ahead of the curve."

"Of course." Draco nipped at the cleft in Harry's chin and felt him shiver under his hands. "Can we stop talking now?"

"I think I can arrange that."

Harry closed the distance between them, slanting his mouth over Draco's in a deep kiss. The pause in the proceedings had probably been a good thing; where the desperation had felt good, even great the momentary pause to think hadn't been a bad thing. Now, the desire was like a slow burn, and when Draco slipped his hands under Harry's shirt and pulled it off over his head, and his glasses got caught up in that frayed, threadbare collar they could even laugh as they untangled them. Then Draco saw an ugly, galleon sized scar in the middle of Harry's chest and he paused, running his fingers over the indentation. Harry stilled, biting his lower lip.

"What…?" Draco asked, searching Harry's eyes.

"Can we talk about it later?" Harry asked softly. "Just, that conversation is likely to kill any erection I might have…"

"It's forgotten," Draco said quickly, and Harry laughed. "For now."

"Fair enough."

After that, sleep pants and pyjama bottoms were dealt away with until they were lying naked in one another's arms.

"This bed is too small," Draco gasped as Harry sucked briefly on his Adam's apple. Draco didn't even see Harry do anything, but he felt a brush of magic as the mattress stretched beneath them until it was twice as wide. And much softer. "Bloody show-off," Draco muttered, and Harry laughed, rolling them until Draco was draped over his body. Their cocks aligned, hardness against hardness, and they gasped in unison at the thrust and parry of bare flesh. Draco leveraged himself up until he was sitting astride Harry's hips and he took their pricks together in one long-fingered hand. His cock was slightly longer and paler, but Harry's was thicker, and after a slightly awkward start they found their rhythm and began to move together smoothly.

"Is this enough?" Harry asked breathlessly, arching beneath Draco's hips.

"Gods, yes," Draco gasped, leaning forward to kiss Harry. That brought their stomachs together and the swollen heads of their pricks into contact with Draco's belly in the place between them. It was only a few more thrusts before Harry was stiffening beneath him, his hands gripping Draco's arms and his thighs trembling. The proof of Harry's need, filling his palm and providing natural lubricant, pushed Draco over the edge and they moved together until the last of the aftershocks had faded and Draco lay, replete, his face in the crook of Harry's neck.

"I feel like I should apologise," Harry said, sounding embarrassed.

"For what?" Draco said, wanting to wipe his hand on the bedding but not wanting to roll over onto a wet spot at some point later. He had no intention of returning to the narrow bed across the carpet tonight unless Harry asked him to go.

"I usually have a bit more staying power. I can only write it off as having wanted in your pants for such a long-damned time."

Draco snorted. "Well, I didn't last much longer than you, so can I use the same excuse?"

"Be my guest."

Draco pushed up with his clean hand and a slight groan. "Can you reach my wand?"

Harry looked over toward the nightstand. "Not without moving from under you, which I'm not much motivated to do. Why?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I've a handful of come, you prat, and I'd like to be rid of it." Once again, he didn't see anything; Harry made no outward show of movement, but Draco's hand tingled and the slimy wetness vanished. When his groin and the sensitive skin of his prick tickled, he smacked Harry's shoulder with his now clean hand.

"Presumptuous, much? You might warn a man."

"And how would I do that? Oh, excuse me, Malfoy, but I'm about to vanish that handful of spunk and wipe your prick down. Prepare yourself."

Draco stared at him for a moment in consternation, then began to laugh. "You're insane."

Harry slipped his arms around Draco's shoulders. "So I've been told more than once." Harry pulled him back down, and Draco only resisted a little.

"We need to sleep," he said.

Harry ran his hand over Draco's hair. "I promise to refrain from taking advantage of you…for the rest of tonight."

"As long as being taken advantage of in the future is part of the deal," Draco countered. Harry laughed.

"Absolutely."

"Deal." He curled against Harry's back and fell nearly instantly asleep.

In the morning they walked for hours, pushing through thick underbrush, finding absolutely nothing that even resembled a place where the herd might have congregated; no flattened bushes, no signs of animals eating the grass. When they paused near the river to eat some lunch, they were both fairly brimming with frustration.

"Well, that was a fucking waste of time," Harry muttered, taking a vicious bite of an apple.

"Not entirely," Draco countered, nibbling delicately at a slice of Stilton.

"How do you work that out?" Harry frowned. "We traipsed through miles of forest and found fuck all."

Draco grimaced. "Charming. Really."

"Oh, fuck off," Harry retorted but there was no heat in it, and he gave Draco a slight smirk. "Just tell me how we didn't waste half a day?"

"Well, trite as it sounds, we now know where the herd isn't, and hasn't been."

Harry started to say something, then stopped, his brow furrowed. "I suppose that does put us ahead of where we were before. It just doesn't feel like it."

"I know," Draco said gently, and there was a softening of their expressions as they watched one another.

There hadn't really been any conversation about their activities of the night before at breakfast, but there had been a pronounced relaxing of their interactions, and more frequency in passing touches. They washed the few dishes together, standing in the tiny kitchen with shoulders touching, Draco washing, Harry drying and putting away. It took all of five minutes, but was entirely domestic, and Draco longed for more of it. The sex, too, of course, but the domesticity was… special.

They ate for a few minutes in silence, until Harry finished the last of the food from the hotel and leaned back on his elbows.

"So, I have some questions."

"About?" Draco looked over at him, biting into a pear.

"The foals, actually."

Draco tossed aside the core from the pear and leaned back on his hands. "So, ask."

"Okay. At the age these foals are, they're still gold in colour, aren't they?"

"Yes. Until they're about two years old, actually. Then they turn silver, which lasts three to five years depending on the individual creature and family history. The purer the blood line…" He shrugged, faintly embarrassed at the correlation between pure blood wizards and the stronger lines of unicorn husbandry. He waited for Harry to make a snide remark, but he merely smiled faintly, eyes sparkling.

"So the ones we're looking for are pure gold, then."

"Yes. And they're averse to sunlight."

"Really?"

"Their eyes are very sensitive. And they depend almost entirely on their mothers for nutrition, so I can't help but wonder how the poachers are feeding them."

Harry hummed, looking off toward the river. It was slow here, meandering casually by, mossy green in colour and obviously deep.

Draco studied Harry's classically handsome profile, and wanted to crawl over and plaster himself against him. He managed to refrain, with effort.

"Where could they be keeping them," Harry said abruptly, "if their eyes are so sensitive to light?"

Draco straightened and brushed off his hands. "Anywhere with heavy tree coverage, I suppose."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Or in a cave?"

Draco thought about it for a long moment. "There are caves all over the area, left over from the coal mining days."

"Wasn't Parkley one of the places where they mined for… generations?"

Draco nodded. "Coal. Lyndney was another."

Harry sat up, tucking the waxed paper left over from his sandwich into his rucksack. "So I say we continue to look around this area, then tonight we camp between Parkley and Lyndney. How does that sound?"

"As good as anything I could've come up with."

Harry snorted. "Why Draco, I do believe that was a compliment."

Draco sniffed. "Don't get used to it."

Harry laughed, reaching out when Draco went to stand and grabbing his arm. Draco stilled and stared into his eyes, and Harry slowly but surely pulled him closer. Draco's eyes dropped to Harry's lips, and they fell open in anticipation. He pulled Draco in and covered his mouth without hesitation, kissing him with slow, intense thoroughness that took Draco's breath. When he finally pulled back, he caressed Draco's cheek gently, his thumb moving along his jaw.

"What was that for?" Draco asked weakly.

"Because I could," Harry answered. "Let's get this case wrapped up so we can take a long weekend and spend it fucking each other senseless."

Draco nodded, breathless and managed, "Okay," said half on a sigh.

Harry pushed up off the ground and offered Draco his hand, smiling and pulling him easily to his feet.

They'd been walking for nearly three hours the next day when Harry heard the soft sound of animals moving amidst the heavy forestation. Draco had paused to take off one of his boots, dumping a couple of small pebbles onto what amounted to a path, and Harry came back and curled his hand around Draco's bicep. Draco looked at him in question, not alarm; they'd touched enough over the last two days that he no longer found Harry's tendency to be physical surprising. They'd shared the double bed the night before, and the sex they'd had was slower, gentler than before, partly because they'd been exhausted. They slept pressed together from shoulders to knees all night, and shared fleeting touches at breakfast and on the trail. The touch Harry curled around Draco's arm now was tight, and his heart began to race.

"Wh—" Draco started to say, but Harry shook his head and lifted his index finger in a 'wait' gesture. Draco stopped moving and stilled, eyes fixed on Harry's. There, unmistakably different from the fluttering wings of birds and the skitter of small animals in the dried fallen leaves was the sound of several larger animals moving together, the crushing of the fallen foliage, leaves being torn from plants and green grass being pulled up as they grazed.

"The herd," Draco breathed, nearly silently. They listened intently for a few more seconds, and Draco pointed off to their left. Harry nodded and without even thinking, he grabbed Draco's hand and they crouched, moving through the thick bushes, heads moving left and right as they looked for the herd of unicorns.

Once they spotted them, they both froze in place and Harry made a small sound of wonder. They were stunningly beautiful; there were no other words for it. Their coats were so white they shone even in the dappled light of the heavy tree cover; a colour whiter than freshly fallen snow. Their long, curling manes and tails brushed the forest floor, and their horns, opalescent from base to tip, caught and reflected the light like they'd been brushed with diamond dust. Harry knew he'd never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. There were perhaps a dozen adult unicorns, slightly smaller than a fully grown horse but stockier, gold hooves larger. One of the mares had a very young foal with her, and Harry would have sworn the look in her eyes as she nuzzled her golden baby was pure love. His throat grew tight, and he squeezed Draco's hand.

"Have you seen them in the wild before?" Draco asked in a gentle whisper, leaning close. Harry looked over and caught the soft expression in Draco's eyes. Harry shook his head.

"Well, only that one time," he corrected himself. "When we were first years and Hagrid took us into the Forbidden Forest…" Harry shuddered as he recalled the cloaked figure slithering behind the unicorn, feeding off its blood.

Image Description: A digital illustration of the times Harry has seen unicorns. The left-hand panel displays present-day Harry's vision of a healthy unicorn and her foal. The mare is standing beneath a tree, dappled afternoon light causing her white coat, pearlescent horn and silver mane to shimmer. Next to her, with its body resting gently against her chest stands her foal; its golden coat and mane striking in their beauty. A light mist curls around their hooves through the light green grass. Facing toward the unicorns in the centre of the image is the left-hand side profile of Harry's face. His eyes are wide with wonder behind the thin black rims of his glasses. Light stubble is visible on his chin and upper lip, and his dark hair has been mussed by the wind. The right-hand side of the image contains two smaller frames with blurred edges, detailing Harry's first memory of a unicorn. In the top right, Harry, Draco and Fang are pictured during their night-time detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. Draco holds a lantern aloft and both boys appear surprised. The crests on their school robes glow in the lantern's light. To the lower right is the body of a deceased unicorn among some tree roots; her coat and mane are dull and lifeless. Voldemort is behind the mare feeding off her and small pools of liquid silver blood trail away from her body in the dirt. End of image description.

"That one was dying," Draco said, turning to look at the creatures again. "You can see how different the colour of a healthy animal is."

Harry nodded, still watching the mother and child. The baby moved like a little goat, skipping and hopping, joy personified. He smiled. "How could anyone hurt these beautiful animals?" He looked at Draco. "I just don't understand."

"You wouldn't." Harry arched a brow. "Harry, you have one of the most highly refined senses of fairness of anyone I've ever met. You wouldn't understand how someone could harm something so inherently harmless."

Harry gave him a small, slightly crooked smile. "I think there was another really nice compliment in there."

Draco leaned closer still and lowered his voice. "There was."

Harry cupped Draco's face and kissed him quickly. "Let's move around the perimeter and get a finite count."

Draco nodded and began to move step by quiet step, counting. Harry had reached seven mares, two stallions and one foal when Draco caught his arm again, pointing.

"What?"

"See the mare by that big oak tree and then the one over there on the ground?"

Harry spotted them and noticed immediately their colour was completely different than the other females. The mare by the tree looked dingy, rather than pure white; her head was hanging, and her mane pooled on the ground. She looked very thin and…sad. The mare lying off to the side didn’t look quite as dingy, but still lacked the lustre of the healthy unicorns. The sadness they both radiated tore at Harry’s heart, and he clenched his fists.

He turned to Draco. "We have to get these bastards, before they come back for any more foals and this happens to more mares."

"Agreed," Draco replied. "Let's circle all the way around them and set wards in place that will alert us of any wizards coming too close, then we need to record their exact coordinates."

Harry nodded, slipping his wand from the holster strapped to his thigh. Draco briefly considered the idea of having one made for himself, then dismissed it. He knew without a doubt he'd never be able to pull it off.

They woke early the morning after they found the colony. There was an urgency to the day Harry couldn't put into words, but it was as if there was something they were missing in their search process, a hole in their deductions. They'd found the herd, but the babies were still missing, and that poor female whose foal was one of the stolen was in bad shape. He could tell Draco was frustrated they hadn't made more progress and he honestly felt the same. It had been over a week since they'd been assigned the case, Harry knew with certainty if it took more than a couple days more, that mare would be dead.

They ate and packed up the tent in near silence, then Apparated northwest toward Puzzlewood. Once there the plan was to search the area while heading south toward Clearwell.

The minute their feet hit the ground Harry tensed. Somehow everything felt familiar; not just that he knew the area, but in an odd way like the area knew him.

"What's wrong?" Draco questioned, apparently so in tune with Harry he immediately sensed his tension.

Harry shook his head. "Not wrong…familiar. Like I know this place."

Draco turned, examining the area. It looked like every other forest grove they'd landed in to him.

"This way," Harry said, grabbing Draco's hand. "I can't explain it, I just know." They zig-zagged through the wood, much of it so dense they had to walk single file.

After about fifteen minutes, Harry stopped. Draco bumped into his back and took a step away; he was about to make a sharp remark when he saw it. Just ahead stood a tent. A tent very similar to the one Draco carried in his rucksack.

"Is that…?" Draco trailed off in disbelief.

Harry nodded. "It has to be our tent. It looks like it; a bit weather worn, but the same." He started to move closer.

Draco grabbed Harry's arm. "No, don't go any closer." At Harry's incredulous look, he continued. "If the poachers are using it, they could have a booby-trap within the wards."

"They couldn't have gotten through the wards we set. Hermione made sure of it." Harry frowned at him and tried to pull away. Draco wouldn't release him.

"Merlin's saggy testes, Harry. No wards last forever without being refreshed every so often. The wards you set over seven years ago have long since faded without being reinforced. You know that."

Harry was so frustrated he growled. "I can't just stand here and do nothing! Draco, I spent months living in that tent. We left things in there, I'm this close; I can't just walk away like I never saw it."

Draco hated the look of frustrated despair on Harry's face. He knew this was important and that Harry did probably need to go inside, but he couldn't let him risk his life over a pile of aged canvas. He took a few steps forward and cast Homenum revelio toward the tent.

When the spell showed they were alone in the area, Harry moved carefully to the tent flap. Wands drawn; Harry moved slowly inside with Draco on his heels.

"It looks almost the same," Harry whispered, taking another step inside. "I can tell someone has been here. The furniture has been moved. The table used to be there," he said pointing to the middle of the room. "And the camp bed Ron used was in that corner. There used to be another one right here. That one was mine and Hermione's was over against the other wall, so we could give her at least some privacy."

Harry walked into each area of the tent, his hand running over every surface. Draco wondered if he was remembering everything that happened there. He had wandered back into the area Harry had told Draco was Hermione's when Harry gasped.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry said, his voice trembling.

Draco came running. "What? What's wrong?"

Harry held up a book. "This! It's Hermione's. It's her copy of Spellman's Syllabary. One day almost a year after the war ended, we were in Flourish & Blott's and I saw she had a copy of it in her basket. I was teasing her about wanting a copy that hadn't been banged up. She admitted her copy was still in the tent in the Forest of Dean."

Draco held out his hand. "Give it to me. I'll put it in my rucksack."

Harry nodded, handing it over and then walking into the kitchen. He gently picked up a dented tea kettle that had obviously seen better days.

Without a word, Draco held out his hand. He took the kettle and placed it into his rucksack.

"Harry," he said, glancing toward the open flap, "we need to get out of here before someone finds us. We still need to locate where the foals are being held." Draco waited a moment, until Harry nodded with a sigh. He looked around one last time then walked out of the tent. Draco paused just long enough to register the exact coordinates of the tent, then followed him. They couldn't do anything about it at the moment, but there was nothing that said they couldn't come back for it.

"There's one good thing about finding your tent and seeing it's been occupied," Draco said softly. Harry looked over to him, one brow raised. "If it was the unicorn poachers, then the cave where the foals are being held probably isn't too far away."

Harry's eyes widened, and Draco could see excitement enter where moments before there had been only melancholy.

"Where are the nearest caves?" Harry asked, and Draco smiled, pulling out his map.

It wasn't long before they happened upon a cave that was quite close to Harry's old tent. They'd been watching the cave for nearly an hour and no one had come near. Draco was sure he could hear the sound of the unicorn foals, most likely calling to their mothers. It was similar to a horse neighing, but more melodious and higher in pitch.

"Shhh," he said, grabbing Harry's arm, "do you hear that?"

He saw Harry's face contort in concentration. "I hear the wind in the trees and something else. It's almost like singing."

"Exactly! That's the foals calling their mothers. Each one has their own unique tone and sound. It's how the mothers can find them if they wander too far from the colony. The foals don't know why their mothers aren't coming for them and by the pitch, they're becoming frightened."

"It has to be where the foals are being kept," Harry remarked briskly. "We have to move now!"

Draco hesitated a moment and then nodded his head. "You're right, but we have to do this right. We'll only get this chance to use the transportation crate so we can make the second jump once we've cleared the area. I already set their destination for the clearing by the river, you know the spot. Remember, drop it next to the foal. Once it transforms to contain the foal, put your hand on the side and both of you will travel to the clearing. While we’ve been waiting, I sent the coordinates to the back-up team. They should be there when we arrive. I'll be right behind you with the second foal."

Harry looked confused. "What about the third one?"

"We're not even sure there are three. I know we saw two sick mares, but our intel stated only two had been taken." Draco could feel the frustration emanating off Harry, so he conceded. "If we see three when we're in the cave, we'll adjust. For now, Potter, stick to the plan."

Draco didn't like the look in Harry's eyes, but there was no time to argue. They moved quickly, silently across the forest towards the cave.

Harry dismantled the wards on the cave with such ease it nearly made Draco weak in the knees. His wand moved in concert with his body, like a choreographed dance. Draco was surprised to see him use his wand in one hand and working wandless with the other. There was a slight shimmer in the air as they fell. After a second's hesitation to see if any alarm sounded, they moved to the mouth of the cave.

"Lumos," Draco said, holding his wand high. The opening was large enough for them to walk into but narrowed slightly as they moved forward. They walked down a short passage that opened into a space about the size of a Hogwarts dormitory room. The walls were rough, dark and in many areas covered in lichen in varying shades of green. Even with their wands lit, it was difficult to see in the darkness. The dreariness was only accented by the steady drip, drip, drip of water in the distance.

"Can you hear that?" Draco asked. "The water dripping? I wonder how far in it actually is? Let's hope we don't have to go much further."

Harry was a few steps in front of Draco. "Unless there's some kind of underground spring, otherwise it's something about water dripping down and making things that hang from the ceiling of the cave." He shrugged. "That's about all I remember from a geology book of Hermione's I read once. Also walk carefully; if the floor is damp it'll be slippery. There's nothing in here, I think the water is coming from the opening on the left."

Draco went to the rough archway and took a few steps in. "I think you're right. It feels more humid that way, like it's leading to water." He stepped back into the first room and waved his wand to get more light. "Look, there's another room just up here and more to the right, let's try that one."

The further into the cave they walked, the more putrid the air became. A mixture of waste and humidity and stale air.

"It smells terrible, let's find those unicorns and get out."

The next room they entered wasn't as humid, but the stench was horrible. In the middle of the room, lay two beautiful golden foals. They each had a rope around their neck to prevent them from leaving the cave, and the ropes had been tied to a large eye bolt that was secured in the cave wall.

"Remember, we have to approach them slowly," Draco said. "Especially with those fucking ropes tied around their necks. We don't want them bolting and hurting themselves."

"Right," Harry muttered. "Fucking dickheads."

"Anger later, Harry," Draco said in a quiet, composed voice. "Believe me, I'm as angry as you, but we need to stay calm so the foals trust us. Take a deep breath and move slowly towards the one nearest you. Once you're next to it, sever the rope, then drop the crate and go. I'll be right behind you with this one."

"Draco, are you sure there's not another foal in here?” Harry was staring into the darkness at the back of the cave. "Maybe over behind those rocks? It looks like there's a small area back there."

"I can't tell if there's another eye bolt or rope back there or not, but it doesn't make sense to keep them separate. We need to get these two out. We can put a plan together once we're at the clearing with our back-up team."

When Harry hesitated, Draco spoke sharply. "Potter! We need to save what we can see before the poachers come back."

The words were barely out of his mouth when they heard noise behind them in the distance. "Shit!" Draco said between clenched teeth, "we need to get out now! Just go to the foal and drop the crate, for fuck's sake."

As if startled by Draco's tone, Harry moved to the side of the nearest foal. He dropped the transportation crate and it immediately slid a floor under the foal as the crate formed around it. It began to glow pale lavender.

"Dammit, Potter," Draco cried out, "touch it before it leaves without you."

Harry hesitated for another instant, then laid his palm on the crate just as it disappeared from the cave.

Draco wasted no time in dropping his transportation crate next to the other foal. He watched it take shape and glow lavender. He immediately laid his hand on the side. They disappeared in a whoosh.

As soon as Draco landed, he looked for Harry. He was relieved to see him standing next to Goldstein going over the instructions for the next jump to return the foals to their mothers.

He started to walk over to the group when Harry came rushing over to him. "I still think there's one more foal in that cave. I can't let it die there! We have no idea what the poachers will do to it."

"We also don't know if there even is another one for sure. It's too risky. You heard the noise. It sounded like they were on their way in as we left," Draco said firmly.

"I put a quick ward up when we started into the cave. It's not my best, but it will slow them down. We have to check for another foal. Look, I'll Apparate into the cave, find the foal and rescue it. I'll be back here in less than ten minutes." He looked imploringly at Draco. "And if the poachers are in the cave, I'll Apparate right back here."

"I don't like it," Draco told him. "I can't go with you for back up. One of us has to make sure the secondary spell is cast correctly on the transportation crates. We're still waiting on the other Auror team to get here. Some mix up in the Portkey Department. Bunch of wankers couldn't find their way out of the Department of Mysteries with all the doors propped open."

Draco hesitated, but finally handed Harry the third transportation crate. "I don't like this. I really think you should wait." He hesitated before releasing his grip on the crate. "I swear to Merlin, if you get hurt or worse, I will make sure Granger knows this was all your idea and I tried to stop you."

Harry took the crate and looked Draco in the eyes. "I will not get hurt…or worse. I'll be back in less than ten minutes with the other foal." With a crack, Harry Disapparated.

"Where the hell did Potter go?" Goldstein asked. "The other transport team will be here in a minute, then we can all get out of here. These woods give me the creeps. Too much…nature."

"Where do you think he went?" Draco replied tersely. "He went back after the third foal."

Anthony looked confused. "There is no third foal. We sent a Patronus message. The mare in the colony had some sort of equine anaemia. I'm not a vet, I just know there is no third foal. Potter's on a wild unicorn chase." He laughed as if what he said was the funniest thing ever.

Draco found no humour in it whatsoever. "We didn't get any damn Patronus! Merlin's saggy nutsack." Draco paled. "He's out there with no back up. Fucking hell!"

"Should we go after him?" Goldstein wondered.

The look Draco gave him would have sent a normal man scurrying for cover. "No, you twat, I can't leave until the unicorns are transported to their mothers and you have no clue where we found these two." Goldstein simply shrugged and walked away.

Draco had known in his gut that there was no need for Harry to go back to the cave. The minute he'd left, Draco wanted to go after him. Now the sick feeling in Draco's stomach had turned to full blown dread. Telling himself over and over Harry would be back any minute, he proceeded to check the foals to determine their health. He needed to be sure that they had not been injured by the poachers or that anything had happened during transport.

He approached the first crate, the one Harry had transported, quickly assessing the condition of the foal. After determining it was unharmed Draco signalled Anthony and an Auror he wasn't familiar with over to where he was.

"This one is ready to go back to its mother. You know the procedure, Goldstein?" Draco asked.

Anthony rolled his eyes. "It's not advanced Arithmancy, we've got it." He and his partner each placed a hand on the transportation crate. Anthony waved his wand, the crate glowed lavender and then popped away, leaving a pale purple sparkling glow in the air.

The second team arrived and Draco spent time going over the protocol and procedures until he was confident the two Aurors, Sperry and Malone, were clear on how to handle the transport crate.

Then, murmuring to himself, he'll be here in a minute, he'll be here in a minute, Draco led them to the crate and repeated the monitoring process to be sure the foal was unharmed. He stepped back, hoping to see Harry standing nearby. His heart sank when he realised Harry was nowhere to be found.

Sperry and Malone surrounded the crate. "Are you travelling with us, sir?" Malone asked Draco.

Draco looked around, hoping his fear didn't show on his face. "I'm going to find why Potter isn't back and then he and I will meet everyone at the colony site."

Malone nodded, and then executed the wand movement. When the crate glowed lavender they each placed a hand on it and moments later they popped away.

Draco had given up hope that Harry would pop in at any moment. The promised ten minutes had come and gone at least twice and the feeling in his gut had not subsided since the moment Harry Apparated away. It was clear to Draco that something had happened, and Harry was hurt…or worse.

Trying to remain calm, Draco thought about the spot where they had found the mouth of the cave. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated, closed his eyes and Disapparated.

The forest was eerily quiet when Draco landed just past a copse of shrubs. He'd landed a bit further from the cave than he'd intended, but as upset as he was, Draco was happy to have ended up in the right forest and with no missing parts. He listened for sounds, hoping he wouldn't hear fighting. He knew Harry was one of the best duellists in the world, but if more than one poacher showed up, being outnumbered was a terrifying equalizer.

Moving in the direction of the cave, Draco let his wand slide down from its holster on his arm, into his hand. He thought of Harry and how sexy he looked strapping his holster onto his thigh that morning and Draco hoped one day to be able to tell Harry how much he loved it as he removed it.

He gave himself a mental head-slap for his inappropriate thoughts and continued to slowly move forward. The quiet continued to unnerve him. Had it been that quiet before but he'd just not noticed because of Harry's company?

Soon the area began to feel familiar, and Draco's senses were on full alert. He longed to call out for Harry but didn't know if that would tip off any others to not only his presence, but possibly Harry's. When the mouth of the cave was visible in the distance, Draco had to force himself not to run to it. It wasn't quite night, but in the deep of the woods it might as well have been. There was still a bit of light that shone from the sky, but the evening mist had begun to cover the ground, small patches of fog clinging to the forest floor. He'd better move fast, Draco told himself. Soon he'd be in near total darkness.

Unexpectedly the silence was broken by a faint sound. Draco stilled, staring where he thought the noise had originated, then shook his head. It was probably just a bird taking flight, but then he realised the skies were empty. Standing motionless, Draco listened. He heard it again, off to his left and away from the cave. It could just be an animal or possibly the poachers trying to trap him. Draco was frozen in place. Then he heard it …a moan. So soft it was barely audible. It came again and Draco knew it wasn't a trap and he had to hurry.

Moving swiftly but still as silently as he could, Draco moved towards the sound. The mist was growing heavier, thicker on the ground and causing him to use extra caution with each step. The last thing Draco needed was to trip over an unseen tree root and end up injured. Ahead in a clearing he saw something on the ground. His heart nearly stopped as he approached. It wasn’t something…it was Harry. His eyes were closed but he looked unharmed. Just a hex or something then, Draco told himself. One step closer and he saw the blood. Under the right side of his jacket the shirt that had been regulation crisp and white this morning was torn and stained with blood.

"Oh fuck!" Draco cried, running the last few steps and dropping to one knee at Harry's side. "You stupid son of a bitch."

Harry's eyes flickered in an apparent struggle to open them. "Good to see you too, Malfoy," he said thickly.

Draco moved Harry's jacket to the side to assess the situation. "Oh fuck, what the hell happened?"

"No foal," Harry said weakly, "ambushed coming out." He tried to sit up. "Fuck!"

"I know there was no damn third foal. We must have just missed Goldstein's Patronus when we Apparated out. And for fuck's sake, don't move," Draco ordered. He wasn't sure if Harry could tell with every movement the blood stain grew a bit larger, and a lot darker. He needed to stop the bleeding…he needed to get Harry to safety. Fuck…he couldn't think.

"Poachers gone," Harry groaned as he spoke. "Just missed them."

"I don't give a Murtlap's arse about the fucking poachers right now." He saw Harry start to close his eyes. "Potter! Stay with me! Don't close your eyes!" Draco struggled to keep the panic from his voice. "I need to let the team know I found you, and then I need to get you out of here."

"Patronus," Harry whispered. "Seen you do it. Cute little fox." He coughed and Draco saw blood on his lips. "Not feeling good, need to sleep."

"Damnit, Potter, do not close your eyes." Draco lifted Harry's head slightly to help him breathe. "I need to concentrate, so just shut up for a minute."

Draco knew what was going to happen when he conjured his Patronus. Shortly after the Penstrom case ended, Draco had needed to cast his Patronus to deliver an urgent update to his colleague, Barney Witmore, who was on assignment in Wales. No one had been more shocked than Draco to see a stag appear from the end of his wand and not the arctic fox he had always conjured before. Now everyone would know, including Potter.

He was so shaken by the change, and knowing the meaning behind it, that for several weeks he would randomly conjure a Patronus, but it never returned to the little white fox.

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated on his happiest memory, waved his wand and called out "Expecto Patronum."

The stag formed and danced in the air. "Deliver this message to Anthony Goldstein: 'I've found Potter. He's hurt and I'm using my emergency Portkey to go straight to St Mungo's.'" He watched as the stag pranced away through the trees before looking down at Potter.

His face was pale as death, but Harry's mouth curved up in a smirk. "I knew you really did care," Potter wheezed out, before his eyes closed again.

Image Description: A digital illustration of Harry and Draco in the Forest of Dean at night time. Harry is lying on the ground at the foot of a large tree. A ghostly layer of mist floats above the ground, curling around the bases of nearby trees. Draco crouches at Harry's side, his left forearm cradling Harry's neck, face contorted in concentration as he holds his wand aloft with his right hand. Harry is wearing his red Auror jacket/robe, grey trousers and brown boots. The left-hand side of Harry's jacket/robe is open revealing a large blood-stain blooming on his white button-down shirt. Despite his injuries, Harry's scratched and bloodied face is smiling up at Draco and the brilliant white of Draco's stag Patronus as it forms above them, quietly shimmering and bathing them and the surrounding area in its cool white light. End of image description.

Draco laid Harry carefully back down and hurried to his rucksack. As he moved, he saw Potter's wand lying on the ground. He grabbed it and held it and the rucksack as he opened the top. Pointing his wand inside he muttered "Accio Portkey." A small harmonica flew into his hand, as Draco carefully slid Harry's wand inside the bag before throwing it over his shoulder. He went back to Harry, immediately noticing the blood stain was larger again and spreading.

He slid his wand into its holster on his forearm, grateful he wouldn't need it right now. With the Portkey clutched in his hand, Draco dropped to his knees as he slid one hand under Harry's neck and the other under his knees. It was awkward and landing was going to be a bitch, but Draco didn't care. He needed to get Harry help before he lost any more blood. Draco called out the wandless incantation to activate the Portkey and began counting down the fifteen seconds it took to activate in his head. As the forest spun out of view, Draco hoped they'd arrive at St Mungo's in time.

St Mungo's Casualty was a bee-hive of activity when Draco popped into the Portkey triage room. As soon as he had activated his emergency Portkey, alarms sounded in Casualty to let the Healers and nurses know there was an injured Ministry employee on the way. More often than not it was an Auror, but not always.

As they never knew the type of injury to expect, when the alarm signalled every Healer, from the general Healers through those with any sort of speciality reported to the Casualty anterooms. Once the severity and type of the injury or injuries was determined, only those who would be put to work remained. The rest returned to their departments until called in again.

Draco landed in the triage room on his knees, the weight of Harry pulling at his arms. Not knowing the extent or type of injury Harry had sustained, he had not used any type of magic on him, including a lightning charm to make the transport easier.

Draco was immediately pushed away, despite his attempts to remain at Harry's side. He ended up with his back against a wall, watching the flurry of activity around Harry. Suddenly a red-faced Healer turned and bellowed at Draco. "You! How was he injured?"

Draco's adrenaline rush was subsiding and he was feeling a bit light headed. "I…I don't know. I found him like that in the woods. We were on assignment."

The Healer sniffed as if Draco hadn't bothered to reply. "Injuries of unknown origin. Looks like a hex of some sort, perhaps one delivered incorrectly or possibly more than one at the same time." He waved his wand and Harry's shirt disappeared along with his uniform trousers and boots. The gash across Harry's midsection was a gaping hole that Draco had a hard time looking at. His pale skin from pecs to hips was stained rusty red, and the dark hair that travelled from his belly button down was stiff. Harry gasped, and a trickle of fresh blood ran down his side.

"Get a damn dressing on that wound and put pressure on it. I will not have Harry bloody Potter bleeding out on my watch," bellowed a new Healer as he strode into the room. The man wore midnight blue robes that Draco knew set him apart as a Healer with a specialty in surgery, combining magical and Muggle methods.

A blanket was levitated to cover Harry's lower body. Suddenly the reality of everything came crashing over Draco like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him, and he slid to the floor, back still against the wall. Quickly a pretty nurse with dark blonde hair was helping him to his feet and ushering him to the waiting room.

"No," Draco said firmly, the rest of his words jumbling together. "I need to stay with him. My responsibility. Can't leave him."

"Unspeakable Malfoy," she said gently, "they're taking Auror Potter up to surgery. They need to run tests to determine what type of spell he was hit with and also start blood replenishing potions. My name is Clare and I promise I'll keep you informed on his condition." Draco nodded, allowing himself to be led into a waiting room.

Draco sat on the hard, ugly blue plastic chair and rested his elbows on his knees. He was thinking about closing his eyes when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, sending his senses into high alert. As he forced himself up on shaky legs, Saul Croaker strode into the waiting room, John Dawlish steps behind him.

"Malfoy," Saul began, paused, his expression becoming concerned. "Are you hurt? Should you be in that triage room yourself?"

Draco blinked in an attempt to follow his boss' questions. For the first time since he'd found Harry, he looked down at himself. Several buttons were missing and his jacket hung open. His own pristine regulation shirt was stained with Harry's blood.

"No, sir," Draco said on a shaky breath. Just seeing the amount of blood on his own clothing made Draco's head a bit woozy. "Not mine, Potter's."

"Potter's?" Dawlish cut in, moving to stand next to Croaker. "What the holy hell happened out there?"

Draco began to answer, but no words came out and his vision blurred.

"Malfoy?" Dawlish called again.

Draco sagged into the chair behind him and shook his head. "I don't fucking know. We missed Goldstein's Patronus telling us there were only two foals. Harry still thought there was another one and he went back to find it."

"Without you?" Dawlish asked.

Draco nodded.

"Damnit, Malfoy!" Croaker bellowed. "You know procedure. Two personnel at all…" Dawlish laid a hand on Saul's arm to stop his tirade.

"Saul," he said firmly, "you know Potter as well as I do. Short of Draco casting a full body bind on Harry, he wouldn't have been able to stop him." Dawlish looked at Draco. "Am I right?"

Draco gave a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Harry said he had to check for the third foal. That he couldn't just leave it there. I had to stay to make sure the two foals we did recover were unharmed and then transported back to the colony."

Both Croaker and Dawlish nodded.

"As soon as I could, I Apparated near the cave, but it was already too late. Harry'd been ambushed by the poachers and they'd escaped. I sent my Patronus to tell Goldstein and the others back in the colony that Harry had been injured and I was using the emergency Portkey to bring him here." He gave an expansive sigh. "And now you know everything I know, in a condensed version."

Croaker laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Good job. Maybe you'd be better off going home and getting cleaned up. Those clothes cannot be comfortable."

"Like hell!" Dawlish roared. "He needs to get back out there and catch those poachers."

Draco stood, jaw firm. "To use your words," Draco said in a tone that brooked no argument, "like hell! I did my part of the assignment. I found, rescued and returned the foals to their colony. It's up to your Aurors to find and arrest the poachers. I am not law enforcement. I can give you whatever information you might need from right here, but until I know Harry is healthy or at least not bleeding to death – I'm not leaving." He looked at Croaker, who only smiled.

"He's right," Croaker agreed. "As capable and well-trained as Malfoy is, his expertise and training is not in catching criminals. Once he passes along the information your Aurors need, he's done. Except for completing all the forms for his own department."

Draco had no idea what had gotten into his boss, but he knew better than to question it. "Of course, sir," he quickly agreed.

It took nearly an hour to answer all of Dawlish's questions, but he did it knowing the sooner he complied, the sooner it would be finished. Even if Dawlish asked the same thing three different ways, resulting in the same answer. Fucking Ministry officials…never satisfied with the first answer.

When Dawlish was finally satisfied that Draco had told him everything, he left.

Saul stood from the table where they had sat and looked down at Draco. "I don't know what happened between you and Potter out there, and frankly I don't want to. But you two obviously worked well together in bringing at least our portion of this case to fruition. Good work. Take a couple of days to relax, but I expect you back in the office next week."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, trying to keep the surprise from his voice and the blush off his cheeks. "I'll see you then."

Croaker stopped at the doorway. "Ask someone for some scrubs or something to change into, for Merlin's sake. You look like you've had half your gut ripped out with all that blood on you. I'd tell you to go home and clean up, but I get the impression that's not going to happen until there's some word on Potter's condition."

Draco simply nodded.

Draco had just spoken with the nurse, Clare, and was waiting for clean clothes to change into and a cup of coffee. What he wouldn't give for a cup from the little café near his flat, he thought, remembering bringing Harry that cup of sugar disguised in coffee. So much had happened since that day, it was nearly impossible to believe it had been less than a week ago. The sound of rushing footsteps pulled him from his musings and he looked up in time to get a face full of bushy brown hair.

"Draco, oh god!" Hermione Granger-Weasley sobbed as she clutched him around the neck. "Anthony contacted Pansy and she called me right away." Gingerly rising to his feet, Draco spoke softly. "Give a man a chance to breathe, Granger." Once he was upright, he gently pushed her away. Hermione's eyes were immediately drawn to the blood covering his shirt.

"Are you hurt?" she asked weakly, "should you be in Casualty yourself?"

The irony of being asked that same question twice in one day wasn't lost on Draco, but he knew too much about her past with Harry to joke about it. Knowing that she would take it hard, Draco braced himself and shook his head. "It isn't mine." Hermione swayed a bit on her feet, and he caught her hands. "Steady, Hermione."

Tears swam in her chocolate brown eyes. "Is he…" she sobbed, "oh god, Draco, is Harry…still with us?"

Still holding her hands, Draco moved them both towards the chairs. "Sit," he said firmly, "and listen to me. Harry is hurt. Badly. But he's alive. They've put together a team of experts and he's going to be fine."

Hermione wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just when Pansy called all she knew was that you were bringing Harry to Casualty with your emergency Portkey. I knew it couldn't be good. And Ron's in Romania with Charlie and I didn't even know he was on a dangerous assignment." She firmly closed her lips together and took a deep breath. "Sorry, I tend to babble when I'm worried."

"It's fine," Draco assured her. "I'm just not sure how much I can tell you. My part in the case is completed, but it's still an active and ongoing situation."

"I understand, it's frustrating because Harry will come over and he'll be all wound up over a case and all he'll say is it's active and ongoing and I can't discuss it. I've learned to let it go, but Ron goes mental when Harry does that to us." She looked at Draco's shirt again and wrinkled her nose. "Can I go get you something to change into or find something here?"

As if on cue, Clare rushed in. "I'm sorry that took so long. I had to go to Dai Llewellyn to find this." She handed Draco a mustard yellow, baggy cotton top. "Sorry about the colour, but at least it's clean."

Noticing Hermione for the first time, Clare smiled at her. "I'm sorry, I only brought the one cup of coffee."

Hermione looked into the cup and wrinkled her nose. Draco saw that the colour of the liquid inside vaguely resembled dirty dishwater. Hermione assured Clare she was fine.

"Any news on Potter?" Draco asked.

Clare looked from Draco to Hermione. "It's fine," Draco said, "she has the same clearance as I do," ignoring Hermione’s barely audible liar.

"Fine, well I don't have this officially, but I overheard them at the triage desk saying that Auror Potter has severe internal damage and it will take several hours before they have any more information. I'll be back when I know more." She turned back as she reached the door. "There's an office down the hall, it says Administration only on the door. You can change there."

"Thank you, Clare," Draco told her.

"I'm going to change," Draco said to Hermione. "I'll be back." After discharging his responsibilities with Saul and John, and holding Hermione, once he reached the empty office Draco finally allowed himself to sink to the floor, bury his face in his hands and cry.

Harry had been in surgery for nearly two hours when Clare returned with an update.

Draco was grateful that Hermione clasped his hand when the nurse came into the room. He knew if she hadn't, he'd have been reaching for hers. As one, he and Hermione began to rise.

Clare gestured for them to sit. "I'm afraid I don't have much more information than I gave you before. Right before they sedated Auror Potter he was lucid and talking. He told the Healer that the hex that hit him came at him as a streak of purple. He spun from the force of that spell and that motion caused the Diffindo hex to graze his side."

"Fuck," Draco muttered.

With a nod, Clare continued. "They have stopped the bleeding, although Mr Potter will require blood-replenishing potions for several days. They've been working on the internal damage caused by the still unknown hex. That's a little trickier."

While Clare talked, Hermione's grip on Draco's hand had increased to the point it was painful. Turning to look at her, he saw something in her expression that told him she knew something, but didn't want to share it right then.

Although Draco had a dozen questions for the nurse, he somehow knew that what Hermione had to say was important. "Thanks, for the update. Please let us know when Potter's surgery is finished."

Clare gave Draco a quizzical look but smiled and left the room.

She was barely out the door when Draco pulled his hand from Hermione's vice-like grip. "Merlin's balls, Hermione," he said, shaking his hand, "what the hell was that?"

"I know that spell," she said, shakily, "Dolohov used it on me in the Department of Mysteries." She winced. "Fifth year. It messed my internal organs up quite a bit, but it didn't kill me."

"Okay, good to know," Draco drawled.

"It. Didn't. Kill. Me." Hermione repeated. When she realised Draco still hadn't cottoned on, she threw up her hands in the air.

"Draco, don't you see? Harry's going to be okay."

Draco looked at the earnest expression on Hermione's face and found he couldn't give her the sarcastic reply that was on the tip of his tongue. "Well, it appears to be a good comparison. But, Hermione, you can't know that for sure."

"Would it kill you to let go of facts and just believe in the possible for one minute?"

"I can't make any promises about something I…I don't know anything about. I do know if anyone can survive this, it's that ridiculously stubborn, incredibly frustrating man in surgery." Draco's voice was clear, but unsteady.

"How long, Draco?"

"I have no idea what you're asking me," Draco responded.

"You keep telling yourself that," Hermione said with a smile, "but I know better."

"Quiet, Granger," Draco replied with closed eyes, "I'm trying to rest here."

They sat in companionable silence waiting for Harry to come out of surgery.

After spending nearly five hours in surgery and another two in the recovery room, Harry had finally been moved into a private room on the Fourth floor in Spell Damage.

Hermione had pulled one of the unforgiving visitors' chairs so close to the side of Harry's bed, Draco wondered if she planned on crawling into his bed with him. Knowing more about what they had been through together soothed him slightly, but it took all his will-power not to scream out I should be the one next to him. Instead, he sat near the wall in his nauseating mustard top and tried to remain calm.

They'd been in Harry's room for not quite thirty minutes when a stern-faced nurse came bustling in. She stopped in the doorway, surveying the room. "It is well past visiting hours. Regulations only allow one person per room after nine p.m."

Draco was already stretched thin and was about to lash out at the nurse, when Hermione spoke. "Give us a minute please, and we'll sort this out."

Draco read the displeasure all over the nurse's face as she walked out. He started to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

"I don't know what happened between you and Harry on this assignment, but I can see your worry goes deeper than that of co-workers. So, I think you should go to your flat, take a shower and put on something comfortable before you come back. I'd suggest you eat something, but if your stomach feels like mine, I think that's pointless. And I promise to contact you immediately if his situation changes while you're gone."

"What about you? You're practically falling asleep with your head on Potter's bed." Draco fought to keep his tone light.

"The minute you're back," Hermione said with a laugh, "I'll be out of here faster than a Snidget on a Quidditch pitch, and home in bed."

Draco stretched as he stood. "Can't wait to see that. You sure about this?"

Hermione nodded. "Positive. I'm not sure I can watch you glare at that top as if it's committed a grievous act against your person for one more minute."

"It has," Draco sniffed, "the fact that some article of clothing exists in this colour is crime enough." He walked over and placed a gentle kiss on the top of Hermione's bushy hair. "He's lucky to have you in his life, Granger."

"It's Weasley, but I think I'm going to say the same about you. I'll see you soon, Draco."

Harry remained unconscious for four days. Draco negotiated to use some of his accumulated holiday entitlement in order to be with him. As the days passed, Draco began to wonder what would happen when Potter woke. The time they spent together in the Forest of Dean had been amazing. But what would happen when people found out that Harry was dating a Malfoy? Were they even dating? Maybe Draco had just been convenient and now that the case was over, whatever they had shared was over too.

The thought niggled at Draco constantly and he began to believe that once Harry was healthy, he'd want nothing to do with him. Hermione had accepted that Draco cared for Harry, but what about her husband? Surely Weasley would tell Harry to dump him. Draco would not allow that to happen, so when Scary Nurse announced that Potter was healing nicely, but they needed him awake to determine if any permanent damage had occurred, Draco formed a plan.

Early on the morning they were set to lift the Sleeping Charm from Harry, Draco removed Harry's wand from his rucksack and set it on the bedside table with a note that read: I kept it safe, even though I was unable to do the same for you. DM and walked out the door.

It had been a week and a half since Draco walked out of St Mungo's, leaving Potter to Granger's tender mercies. He told himself over and over he'd done the right thing, that whatever had happened to them while they were camping in the forest, it hadn't really meant anything. It had just been sex after all, right? That thought made Draco's heart ache, but he couldn't allow himself to believe anything else. Cuddling was just that; cuddling, searching for reassurance and comfort and warmth, nothing more.

But there were times, late at night or very early in the morning, when he would remember Harry's touch, and the gentleness of his hands, and he wanted him again so much he ached with it. He'd had to throw away the uniform coat he'd been wearing that last day; there was no saving it. Same for his regulation dove grey dress shirt. He'd Owled Madam Malkins and ordered new ones exactly like the ruined clothing through the Unspeakables account, but couldn't bear to take it out of the fussy wrapping. Instead, he wore a black shirt under a different black jacket, and silently dared anyone to say a fucking word. He was fairly sure he'd have torn their head off if they had, which made no sense considering he'd have had to open the jacket for the shirt to show and he had no intention of doing that.

Since he returned to work, he'd hidden in his work station, using a separate entrance near the back of the Ministry and the private Unspeakables lifts. Walking through the lobby was unthinkable; if he ran into any of the Aurors on the more crowded lifts or near the Floos he knew he'd be unable to have a conversation with them. He'd barely been able to speak to Pansy and she was so pissed off when he finally told her he didn't want to talk about it that she hadn't spoken to him since. And Granger; gods, he had to avoid Granger. He could only imagine the look of betrayal on her face. He'd very nearly got her best friend killed, after all.

There was Ministry chatter, of course. Potter was the golden boy; he couldn't end up in the intensive care ward at St Mungo's without there being chatter everywhere. He was recovering, Draco heard. Miraculously dodged death yet again; wasn't he amazing. Draco was one of a very few people who knew just how close he'd come this time and he wasn't offering any titbits of information. The other Unspeakables talked about it, although Draco assumed his expression was foreboding enough to keep them from asking him about it directly. He'd managed to hide from discussing it and pretended not to dwell on it for a week, taking care of the Billywig and his other creatures. His nightmares were something else again, however.

He dreamt of blood, oceans of blood, and of Harry's weak attempt at a smile when he'd found him. There was that horrible, gaping wound in his stomach, and Draco would wake, trembling in a cold sweat. Then on his way home that evening he was walking from the Apparition point to his flat, and he caught a hint of sandalwood cologne floating on the breeze. It was all Draco could do to prevent his eyes from filling right then. His knees felt wobbly, and he stiffened them long enough to climb his front steps and let himself in the door, then leaned back against it, his eyes clenched tightly closed. He would not cry, he vowed to himself. He would. Not.

His flat was in shadow and he left it that way as he finally pushed away from the heavy oak door, pausing just long enough to throw the dead bolt. The rooms were silent but for the grandfather clock there in the hallway, rescued from his father's study at the Manor. The tick, tick, tick was very loud, but also faintly reassuring. He leaned his black leather case against the long housing for the pendulum, opened the door to the face long enough to wind it, a motion of long habit, then walked into the living room, tossing flames into the fireplace from the tip of his wand. He unbuttoned and removed his work robes and hung them on the coat rack in the corner, and turned to warm his cold hands before the fire when something moved in his peripheral vision and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Instead, he aimed the wand that was still clenched in his fingers at the figure sitting in the corner of the room on his couch.

"Don't hex me," a voice said raggedly, and he saw an arm move just as the floor lamp next to him flared brightly. It took a moment for Draco to realise the flame was reflecting in the round lenses of spectacles on a pale face, and once again he went weak in the knees.

"Jesus God," Draco hissed, his hand spreading on his shirt front. It showed how shaken he was by his use of Muggle swearwords, something he'd only done since spending time with Harry in the Forest of Dean. The man had a dirty mouth and many of his favourite curse words were Muggle. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Potter?"

"Why the bloody hell did you walk out on me at the hospital?" Harry countered.

"How did you get in my flat?" Draco went on, ignoring Harry's counter question. "The Floo was locked. So was the door…"

"It wasn't hard," Harry replied softly. "Hermione called Pansy, Pansy gave her the keys, Hermione gave them to me. Took all of half an hour."

"Those fucking women," Draco snarled, turning his back on Harry. "How dare they violate my privacy like this?"

"They're worried about you. It's the price one pays for having friends."

"Perhaps the answer is not to have them, then."

The room settled into an awkward silence that held for several minutes.

"You didn't answer my question," Harry said finally. Draco whirled, giving him an irate glare. "Why did you walk out on me at the hospital?"

"I didn't walk out on you," Draco growled. "I waited until it was obvious you were going to survive, yet again. And I left a note."

"Sorry to disappoint," Harry cut in. “A fucking note? One that said nothing?”

Draco ignored Harry and continued. "And then I went back to work. Some of us need to do that, you know. We can't just laze around…"

"You cannot honestly be insinuating that I was lazing around the hospital, being self-indulgent and sipping Butterbeer."

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again. Harry looked ghastly. His face was bloodless and white, there were purple bruises beneath his wide eyes, and even under a heavy jumper and a wool pea coat, Draco could see the thickness of the bandages around his middle. Draco crossed his arms in self-defence, but he didn't really believe his comment was defensible.

"No," he said quietly, clearly surprising Harry with his honestly. "I know how badly you were hurt. I saw your injuries. I had your blood on my hands from transporting you."

Harry seemed to release a breath he'd been holding. "You won't tell me why you left?"

Draco felt his knees finally desert him and he sat on his coffee table rather than land on his arse on his Aubusson. "You had Hermione, and I was certain the rest of the Weasleys would descend any moment. I would have been superfluous."

Harry laughed weakly. "Draco Malfoy, you have never in your life been superfluous." He shook his dark head. "You're the only one I wanted, and you weren't there."

Draco stared at him. "Why?" he whispered. Harry looked confused. "I can't imagine why you'd want me," Draco clarified. Harry's eyes softened.

"Can't you?"

"No, I honestly can't," Draco said. "Besides, I'm angry at you!"

Green eyes blinked behind glasses. "You're mad at me?"

"Yes, you arsehole! You just had to be right, no matter what anyone else might think. You had to jump in once again to rescue that foal without a single thought to your own safety or to what anyone else might think. I told you; there was no third baby. I swear to Merlin, Potter, you are the most careless, thoughtless human being I've ever…"

"I know," Harry interrupted. Draco's voice died away; his mouth open. Harry laughed, then grimaced, pressing his hand to his midriff.

"You're still in pain," Draco whispered, and Harry nodded.

"It's worth it, though, to see you speechless for once."

Draco exhaled and shook his head. "I swear to Merlin, I want to throttle you."

"Hermione thought as much." Harry picked up a clear glass Draco hadn't noticed before and took a sip of water. He placed it back on a small end table. "Will it make you less homicidal if I tell you you're absolutely right? I've already had my arse reamed by Hermione, and Anthony, and John, but if you'd like to take a shot, now would be the time. I'm pretty much too weak to fight back."

Draco stared at him. "You look like shite," he said flatly. Harry laughed and winced at the same time, pressing against his stomach.

"Just what a man wants to hear from his boyfriend," Harry said, studying Draco's face. "That he looks terrible."

"Well, you do…" Draco began, then stopped, staring. "What did you call me?" he asked, his voice rough.

Harry bit his lip. "My boyfriend," he said finally. "Did I get it so wrong? I saw how your Patronus changed, Draco. Even as out of it as I was, there was no mistaking the stag that erupted from the end of your wand. Care to explain that?"

Draco stared for a long time. "No, I don't think I do right now, you complete and utter wanker."

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Draco… I may have been raised by Muggles, but even I know the significance behind that kind of a change in someone's Patronus." His voice wavered. "I saw it happen with Tonks when she fell in love with Remus."

Draco sighed. "I honestly can’t explain it." Draco proceeded to tell Harry how after the Penstrom case he'd had to conjure his Patronus and nearly passed out when a stag burst out of the end of his wand. "I must have conjured fifty Patronus' in the next few weeks, but it was always a stag. Never an arctic fox like it had been before."

Harry smiled. "So, boyfriend?"

Draco shook his head slowly. "I want to strangle you."

"No doubt," Harry agreed, leaning his head against the high back of his chair. "And I know Hermione feels that way pretty often. You still haven't said no."

Draco took a deep breath while Harry watched him, then let it out on a long sigh. "I… don't know," he said finally. "I don't know if I can be with someone who so completely ignores me when I'm only thinking about his safety."

Harry nodded soberly. "And that's reasonable." He met and held Draco's eyes. "Do you mind if I take a short nap while you think about it? I'm still pretty knackered, all things considered. And I’d rather not faint in front of you."

Draco sighed, then dropped from the table onto his bony knees, grimaced at the resulting ache but crawled on them over to where Harry sat on the couch. Harry watched him, his big eyes warming, welcoming.

Draco stopped in front of him, reaching up and cupping Harry's cheek in his palm. "What if I decide you aren't worth the headache," he murmured, "and you're sound asleep?"

"You could always Apparate me to Ron and Hermione's and dump me outside the door. She's not best pleased with me herself right now, but I don't think they'd leave me out in the cold. If you could just ring the bell before you go, to alert them I'm on the porch…"

"Oh, shut up," Draco hissed. He moved his hand to Harry's nape and pulled him forward, leaning in to meet his momentum, sealing his lips over Harry's still open mouth. Immediately, Harry's body softened and his arm curled around Draco's shoulders, pulling him in. He opened his mouth even further and Draco took advantage of the opportunity and slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, caressing his tongue, sucking on it, then pulling back slowly and resting his forehead against Harry's.

"I love you, you impossible git," Harry whispered. "Please, please don't leave me again."

Draco sighed. "I don't believe I could if I tried."

Harry's breath brushed against Draco's face, something toothpasty and minty and… Harry. Sandalwood and evergreen and cold forest air seemed to exude from his skin, and he lifted a hand to card his fingers through Draco's hair.

"I'm so glad," Harry said. "I'd have to chase you down again, and I'm fucking exhausted."

Draco couldn't help the small, startled laugh that burst from his mouth. "Well, god forbid we wear Potter out."

"Ssssh," Harry whispered. "Don't talk. Or if you have to talk, tell me you love me."

Draco carefully spread his fingers over the front of Harry's jumper, helping him to lie on the couch. He could feel the bandages, and it sobered him how close they'd come.

"God help me, I do," Draco said. "I love you. But from here on out, you can't frighten me like that again, do you understand? I mean it, Harry."

"I know," Harry whispered. "And I'm sorry I scared you, truly. Now, get up here and kiss me."

Draco shifted onto the couch, deciding it was simply easier to do what he said for now, but they were going to talk about it.

Warmth flowed into Draco's fingers and arousal crept along his long limbs and into his groin. Oh yes, they were going to talk about it and many other things.

Later. Right now, Draco was going to hold on to Harry and never let go.