I'm Coming For You, Draco Malfoy!

I almost expected Harry to throw me into his bed the moment we got back to our dorm room but he was treating me with kid gloves, determined to make sure I was okay and fully recovered.

He didn't leave my side and he was incessantly protective. Mind you, when we'd gone to dinner in the Great Hall, the snakelets surrounded me like possessive guard dogs, not letting anyone near. It seemed that news had spread quickly that something 'big' had gone down and I had a surprising number of well-wishers as well as those who simply wanted to ask questions.

I couldn't say I was particularly hungry after my ordeal and I sat at the table surrounded by snakes, honouree snakes, and snakelets, prodding at my food and daydreaming.

'Eat something,' Harry said gently as he leant across the table and touched my hand. 'Poppy said you need to.'

I looked up at him and said, pointedly, 'you too.'

He quirked a tired smile. His hair was down, hiding his exhaustion from those around him but I could see it in the slope of his shoulders.

When there was a moment, when the others were wrapped up in Ron and Greg discussing how to make Bouncing Cupcakes™, I finally asked. 'So, what actually tired you out, controlling everyone's magic or removing the remnants of the Dark Mark?'

He raised his eyebrow (the pierced one). 'Initially I assumed both,' he said thoughtfully. 'Though maybe just the latter. The focus of everyone's love was actually incredibly uplifting and very natural magic. The Dark Mark was a different matter entirely. Very acerbic and perverted magic that fought against everything. It left a bad taste in my mouth. I'm glad treacle tarts are on the menu tonight.'

He smiled softly as he bit into a slice. Unfortunately, he had to lick dripping treacle away from around his mouth. The shine of the sugary syrup made his lips look very kissable and suddenly it was if I could still feel the ghost of his lips tingling against mine as he murmured 'I'm coming for you, Draco Malfoy'. Merlin, two years ago that would have been a formidable threat. And if I'm honest about it, it would have scared me. But, in truth, it was the threat that lay behind every day of my life for so long. In May, it had meant something different again when it was the promise of hope. Then it meant rescue from the curse. Now, it meant something so very different, so very exciting, so much so, that I was semi-erect just thinking about it. And fuck, didn't Harry just know what he'd done to me?

I could tell by the way his eyes twinkled at me as he sat across the table, the candlelight reflecting in his glasses, that he realised the effect he'd had on me.

Didn't Harry always do this to me?

'And stop over-thinking everything,' he said with a gentle smile.

I studied him, in his sleeveless fitted t-shirt and ripped jeans with his messy long hair and piercings. I looked at the dark tattoo on his arm; the realistic Golden Snitch forever circling his bicep. He still wore his heavy rings, including the thumb ring and Severus's Death-eater mask, but the friendship bracelet was conspicuously absent. He told me he'd lost it swimming and I wondered if it was true. Sometimes I wondered what was true about Harry and what was image but I think I was beginning to see. Still, it didn't stop me appreciating was sat in front of me.

That night, after Greg, Blaise, and Theo had drawn their curtains, I crept out of my bed and into Harry's.

'Dray?' he whispered, reaching for his wand and casting a Muffliato and spelling a dim ball of light to hover above us.

'We need to talk.'

'Oh?' he said, a furrow creasing his brow and he sat up in his bed, watching me as I purposely sat opposite him.