Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. Draco's blond hair shone in the moonlight like a white-hot flame, his teeth shining just as brightly as he flashed the tall stranger a suggestive smile. Harry knew that smile. He lived for it, in fact. But now the smile wasn't directed at him. The hand that ghosted along Draco's cheek wasn't his. Nor were the lips that caressed Draco's and whispered softly into his ear, eliciting a chuckle as Draco pushed the man through the door and closed it behind them.

Harry leaned against the lamppost, his legs feeling like sticks of jelly. He swallowed the bile that burned in his throat. The image of that brief kiss would be etched into his brain forever. Draco. His Draco. The words echoed through his head and tears stung his eyes. Not his any longer, apparently. How could he not have known?

He leaned more heavily against the post until his equilibrium had returned, even though it still felt as if his entire world was being catapulted through a too tight space awash with blazing fires and screams of agony. He wanted to run, to be as far away from Draco and his unfaithful lips and smouldering eyes as he could, but he couldn't seem to move. He couldn't go home. Couldn't face his own bed without thoughts of the last time he and Draco had shared it. The love that had burned in Draco's eyes as he'd kissed Harry and said how much he'd miss him while he was away. Couldn't bear the idea of seeing the photos of the two of them that smiled and waved and kissed from their prominent places on the mantelpiece. Harry took a deep breath and Apparated to the only place he could think of.

Hermione shrieked as she pounced off the sofa, wand in hand. Her wide eyes narrowed as she recognized the intruder who'd appeared, uninvited, in the middle of her living room. "Harry, what on earth?"

Harry couldn't answer. It had taken all the energy he could muster to make it without Splinching himself and he tumbled to the floor, praying that the darkness overtaking him would never let him go.

~~~

"It doesn't make any sense." Hermione handed him another cup of steaming tea. She sat in the chair next to him at her kitchen table, worry lining her forehead and clouding her brown eyes. "I can't believe he'd—not after he fought so hard to get you in the first place."

"Maybe that's it, Hermione. Maybe it was all about the battle, and once he'd won—" Harry couldn't finish his sentence. He closed his eyes and focused on the hot coal of anger in his stomach instead of the pain that was filleting him from the inside out.

"I can't believe that. I just... can't. There must be some explanation." A warm hand covered his still trembling hands wrapped around his cup. Hermione's eyes were kind, but firm. "You need to talk to him, Harry."

Harry shook his head. He couldn't... wouldn't give Draco the satisfaction of seeing him so broken. Thankfully, Hermione understood.

"You can stay here as long as you like. You'll need your things." It must have been the pleading Harry was certain shown in his eyes that made her reach out and pull him to her. "I'll have Ron go and fetch them when he gets home. I'm so sorry, Harry."

Harry nodded against her shoulder but couldn't voice his gratitude lest he lose what little composure he had left. He wasn't sure how he made it to the guest bedroom. The last thing he remembered was the taste of something bitter in his mouth and the wisp of soft curls against his face.

~~~

Days later Harry was awoken from a fitful sleep by a loud pounding and the sounds of shuffling feet as Ron and Hermione were apparently roused from their bed. Harry rolled over and covered his head with his pillow. Thursday, then. Draco was due home on Thursday. Harry had lost count of the days – they all seemed the same from his permanent position curled up under the covers. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should probably at least shower, but somehow even the most mundane tasks seemed too difficult to manage. Showers reminded him of Draco. Food reminded him of Draco. Life reminded him of Draco.

"Where the hell is he?"

"I think you've given up the right to know, don't you?" The anger in Ron's voice was reassuring. Harry would have to remember to thank him for it one day.

"What are you on about, Weasley?"

"Draco, stop." Hermione seemed more worried than angry. If Harry had been in his right mind, it would have concerned him, but as it was, he just couldn't manage it.

"I will not!" Harry's heart broke all over again at the panic in Draco's voice. He wanted to rush to him. To tell him everything was fine. But it wasn't. Nothing would ever be fine again. "I come home from weeks in the middle of the fucking jungle with your arse of a brother to find Harry's drawers and closet empty without as much as a note? I will not fucking stop until I beat some sense into that pigheaded arse of a friend of yours."

"Draco, he knows," Hermione said so softly Harry could barely hear. "He saw you with that other man."

There was a moment of silence before all hell seemed to break loose. If Ron had sounded angry before, Draco sounded absolutely furious. Their shouts echoed through the bedroom until Harry couldn't take anymore. If he'd known where his wand was, he would have cast a Silencing Charm, but he couldn't be arsed to look for it. Instead, he reached to his bedside table and fumbled for the now familiar bottle with the bitter liquid that was the only relief from his misery. The shouts slowly became muffled noises, seeping into his dreams like fighting dragons.

~~~

"Harry?" Hermione knocked gently before pushing the door open. Her nose crinkled as she waved her wand. The air around Harry seemed to thicken until he felt he couldn't breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut against the insane brightness that bathed the room when the curtains swung open. "Harry," Hermione repeated as she sat gingerly on the edge of Harry's bed. "Charlie's here to see you."

"Tell him to go away," Harry mumbled, his voice barely recognisable even to himself.

"I think you need to hear what he has to say. I think it's important."

Harry simply shook his head and curled deeper into his covers. There was a shift in the bed as Hermione stood. The silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity before the bed dipped again and a cool, strong hand gripped his shoulder, tugging him forward. When Harry opened his eyes, Charlie was looking down at him with determination.

"Hi Charlie," Harry said weakly, his voice sounding distant and dead.

Charlie gave him a small smile and shook his head. "Harry, I don't know what you thought you saw, but Draco was with me Sunday night, and every night for the last two weeks. We were camped on the outskirts of a small town near Corabia tracking a Streaked Dragon. There's no way he could have been where you think he was."

Harry blinked. He wondered if he shouldn't try to pinch himself to wake from the torturous dream that offered a glimmer of hope. "I saw him, Charlie. It was him. I know that smile better than my own by now."

Charlie shook his head again, more forcefully. "I almost hexed the man a few times to stop him from whining about how much he missed you. I'll swear it under Veritaserum, Harry. So will he. This is killing him."

~~~

"I'm so sorry, Draco." Harry curled himself closer to the relaxed body next to him, certain there was no better feeling in the entire world.

Draco hummed contentedly and brushed the shell of Harry's ear with warm lips. "It's all right. I probably would have done the same thing."

"You wouldn't have." Harry shook his head firmly. "You would have hexed first and felt sorry for yourself later."

A deep chuckle shook the bed and Draco's breath tickled Harry's ear. "You're probably right. Then I'd be spending the rest of my life in Azkaban for the cold-blooded murder of some poor Ministry secretary stupid enough to Polyjuice himself into the great Harry Potter."

"I should have trusted you, though."

Draco hummed again, a bit more sternly this time. "Yes. You should have."

They lay in silence for a long time, Harry listening to the sound of Draco's heartbeat and the smooth, even breathing he'd fallen asleep to for years. The thought of ever losing this— it was enough to make his chest constrict almost painfully. As though Draco had read his thoughts, a hand brushed gently up Harry's back and around his shoulders, pulling him even closer. "I'll quit if you want. It's hard being away so much. This was bound to happen eventually."

Part of Harry wanted to say yes, please, but Harry knew working with Charlie was something Draco loved. It had become a part of who he was and, while Harry would love to have Draco home every night, he would never ask that of him. The fact that he'd offered meant more than Draco would ever know. He shook his head again, unable to voice what he was thinking.

"You have to know I'd never – Merlin, Harry." The raw emotion in Draco's voice was both heartbreaking and uplifting. "Why would I ever seek out another when I have you to come home to?"

Harry swallowed around the lump lodged in his throat. They'd never been much on spoken words of affection. Actions came far more easily and had always seemed to be enough for both of them. He knew Draco loved him – knew it with every fibre of his body, and he was sure Draco knew how he felt as well. But it suddenly seemed important to say it. To make promises aloud that they'd never felt the need to make before.

"I love you, Draco. God, if anything ever happened—" Harry couldn't finish. If he ever lost Draco, his world would end. If he'd ever doubted it before, he couldn't now. Not after what he'd been through over the last week.

Draco shifted in the bed, long, gentle fingers lifting Harry's chin, forcing Harry to look into grey eyes filled with so much passion it almost made his heart stop. "I'll never do anything to hurt you, Harry. But promise me. Promise me that if anything ever did happen to me, that you wouldn't wallow in your bed and give up. Promise me that you'd move on."

Harry could no more promise that than he could stop the sun from shining, but he nodded anyway. Then Draco kissed him— his lips warm and insistent, as if everything important could be conveyed with a kiss. "I love you more," he whispered against Harry's lips, and in that moment, Harry understood that everything important could.

~fin~