r you’re scowling all the time if you keep all of your thoughts to yourself!”

“I guess it hurts people sometimes, hearing other people’s unfiltered thoughts,” Ge said. It didn’t escape Draco’s notice that he was giving him a speculative glance.

“But everything I just said is true,” Luna said.

“Is it?” Ge asked in an unconvinced tone. Draco bit his tongue, but before he could stop himself, the words spilled out of his mouth.

“Listen, I know it probably means nothing to you, but I am really sorry. I’m sorry for the role I played in the war and…for what happened to your brother.” Draco stared at the floor, unable to look Ge in the eyes.

“You already said that,” Ge said, prompting Draco’s eyes to involuntarily snap up to his. “In your letter. I haven’t otten.”

“Oh, you got one, too?” Luna asked without sounding surprised. Instead, she sounded happy.

“Yeah,” Ge said slowly before he turned his attention back to Draco. “It was a good gesture, you know, that you wrote to each of us individually, instead of sending one letter to the whole family. I appreciate you apologising in person, but I don’t put much value to words.”

“Oh, but Draco is—”

“Luna,” Draco interrupted her warningly.

Ge’s eyes flickered questioningly between the two of them. Luna just shrugged.

“Well, as much as I prefer action to words, Harry says you’re different now, too, so…” He raised his butterbeer to Draco and took a swig. “I guess I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Right,” Draco said with the ghost of a smile. Honestly, he had expected worse. So much worse. Also, Potter was talking about him? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It made his belly all fluttery and warm. Ugh.

“You want something to drink?” he asked, turning to Luna.

“Oh, yes, a butterbeer, please.”

Draco nodded, making his way to the kitchen. He was pretty sure Ge and Luna started talking about him the second he was gone, but he didn’t mind. Ge had every right to be sceptical. Honestly, Draco had no idea why Luna liked him. Most days, Draco didn’t like himself, so how could anybody else?

He let out a sigh in relief when he found the kitchen was empty. Well, except for more balloons. How many were there? He helped himself to a glass of red wine which, shockingly, tasted far better than he would have thought, given this was Weasley’s party.

“Hey, where’d you get that glass?”

Draco turned around, startled, and found a young man with sandy brown hair smiling at him.

“Right here,” he said, handing him one.

“Thanks,” he said, reaching for the firewhiskey. “I’m Henry by the way.”

“Draco.”

“Oh, you’re Draco Malfoy, aren’t you?” Henry said, stretching out his hand. Draco shook it warily. When people recognised him by his name, they usually started talking about the past. And even though this Henry guy seemed friendly enough, Draco was in no mood to talk about his days as a Death Eater with a stranger.

“That’s me,” he said in a clipped tone, sipping at his wine.

“Harry told me so much about—”

“Ah, you met Henry.”

Draco almost choked. His eyes widened as he took in the bright grin on Potter’s face as he entered the kitchen. It was such a shocking sight; not only because Draco hadn’t expected to see Potter grinning at him after what had happened between them, but…because…

Holy fucking Mother of Merlin!

Bloody Potter had a bloody beard now. And not just a little stubble from being too lazy to shave for a few days, a full-on, raven-black beard. Shit. Shit! It made him look absolutely delectable. And as if to mock Draco, the prat had chosen to dress nicely for a change.

As Draco eyed the collar of the blue dress shirt and the tie, he wondered if Potter was indeed wearing this to irritate him. Surely, Luna had told him she would be bringing Draco. That would also explain why he didn’t look surprised at all to find him in Weasley’s kitchen. Besides, he knew Potter. This wasn’t an outfit he’d normally choose for himself. The grey jumper he was wearing on top looked incredibly soft; was that cashmere? Potter didn’t wear cashmere!

Draco was suddenly startled out of his thoughts when he noticed Potter had curled an arm around Henry’s hip. It was a very possessive gesture, one that said ‘He’s mine, back off’. Only, Draco couldn’t have cared less about Henry.

“Oh, how lovely,” he said with a fake smile while his insides started to boil. Potter was dating someone? He was dating someone? And he was parading him in front of Draco like a show dog. Seriously? Seriously?

They all flinched when several balloons around the room suddenly burst. Henry looked this way and that, while Potter’s gaze flickered to Draco for a fraction of a second. Damn it, he needed to control his magic around Potter. And from the looks of it, the stupid prat knew exactly what was going on. Or he seemed to have his suspicions at least.

“Hey, Harry, Henry, could you guyse over here for a sec?” Granger called from the living room.

“Excuse us,” Potter said with a hint of a smile. He kept his arm around Henry as they walked out of the kitchen.

Excuse us? Yes, it was very clear they were an ‘us’; still, it hurt hearing thate out of Potter’s mouth.

“Oh, hey, there you are, I was wondering—Are you okay?”

Draco blinked at Luna without really seeing her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said automatically.

“You look—” She pursed her lips, her gaze intensifying. “Is this because of Henry and Harry?”

Draco’s vision blurred at the mention of their names. Henry and Harry. It sounded like a joke without a punchline.

“It is, isn’t it? I’m sorry, Draco.”

“Did you know Harry was dating someone?”

“No, I had no idea. Honestly, I thought you and—”

“Don’t,” Draco interrupted her. “Don’t say it.”

“Draco.” Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his midriff and put her head on his chest. “I’m so sorry.” Her curls tickled his chin as she spoke. As much as he tried to control his body, he couldn’t keep it from trembling. Luna seemed to notice and pressed herself more firmly against him. It felt strange and unfamiliar, being hugged like this. But Draco couldn’t deny the soothing effect it had on him. He had no idea what Luna saw in him, what made her trust him enough to call him her friend andfort him. Yes, they had grown closer while working together at the school, but still…Draco couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of Luna considering him a friend.

As the seconds ticked by, the inexplicable urge to just let himself feel all the awful emotions he had been bottling up for weeks was growing stronger. Unable to fight it any longer, he put his arms around Luna in return and buried his face in her hair. It smelled nice. Like pineapples.

“Oh, err, sorry.”

Draco looked up, feeling a rush of adrenaline shoot through him as he stared into confused green eyes.

“I didn’t know you guys were—”

Draco felt Luna shift in his arms, before she slowly let go of him.

“You know, Harry, I think you should talk to Draco. You’re upsetting him.”

“I’m upsetting him?” Potter blurted, but Luna didn’t bat an eyelash as she walked past him. “What the fuck?”

“Just et it, Potter,” Draco drawled, intent on following Luna.

Potter stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Don’t touch me,” Draco growled and slapped his hand away.

“Fuck you, Draco,” Potter glowered. “Fuck you!”

“How eloquent,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“No, you don’t get to be condescending, you lying bastard!”

“Excuse me?”

“You lied to me! You didn’t tell me you were engaged! But, apparently, that doesn’t really matter, since you seem to be getting it on with—”

“WHAT?”

“Does your fiancée know you’re walking around, flirting with people left and right?”

Draco felt the sudden urge to punch him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Potter.”

“No?” he said, his tone challenging.

“I don’t owe you any sort of explanation,” Draco snarled, leaning closer to him. “Besides, I’m not the one with the new lap dog.”

“That’s fucking riching from you!”

“What?”

“You’re the one with the secret fiancée!” Potter yelled. “Also, you can’t juste in here, to my best mate’s home, and act like…like this!”

“Like what?”

“LIKE YOU CARE!”

Draco stared at him,pletely taken aback.

“You’re apologising to people, you’re being decent,” he huffed, “and you’re volunteering at a freaking infant school.”

“So?”

“So? You’re not supposed to be—” He rubbed at his chin, drawing Draco’s attention to it. He immediately wondered if Potter’s beard felt as soft as it looked. Merlin, how he longed to touch it.

“It’s not an act, if that’s what you’re—”

“Whatever it is, you need to stop. Now!”

“Why?”

Potter glowered at him. “You’re engaged,” he said, as if that explained everything.

“Why do you even care?” Draco said through gritted teeth, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Fuck you, Draco! You know why.”

No, Draco didn’t. Because it couldn’t be.

They stared at each other for a long moment, until Potter’s expression turned from livid to something moreplex.

“How long have you been engaged?”

“That’s—” —none of your business, he wanted to say. He didn’t want to talk about this. Least of all with Potter. But he was tired of fighting. He couldn’t tell Potter the whole truth, but maybe he’d stop pestering him if he at least told him something. “We got engaged last summer,” he finally said.

“Who is she?”

“Her name is Astoria,” Draco said, unwilling to give more information. The look on Potter’s face made his stomach twist ufortably.

“Do you love her?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Draco averted his eyes, staring at Potter’s polished shoes instead. He had really made an effort today. Had it truly been for Draco? Or…for Henry?

“Do you love her?” Potter repeated in an almost pleading tone. Draco pressed his lips together. He couldn’t answer that; there were too many reasons not to. He could feel Potter’s eyes on him, could almost feel his breath on his skin. They were standing too close.

“Will you please stop looking at me like that?” Draco said, pointedly keeping his head down.

“Like what?” Potter whispered.

Draco squared his shoulders before he lifted his head in defiance. “Like you want to look at me.”

Potter’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I don’t,” he whispered. “Believe me, I wish I didn’t want to. I wish—” He leaned closer, sending Draco’s pulse into a frenzy. “I wish things could be different.”

Draco knew this should be his cue to leave. He shouldn’t be here, staring at Potter, only inches apart from him. His lips involuntarily parted when he felt warm, hesitant fingers brushing his. His index finger twitched, moving against Potter’s palm. His hand closed around Draco’s in return. Draco inhaled sharply, curling his toes in his shoes and closing his eyes. Did Potter really want him? Was that it? No, it couldn’t be. He had found someone else. He was in a relationship. He just wanted Draco as a friend.

“I can’t,” Draco whispered, a sharp pain shooting down his throat as he spoke.

“I know,” Potter replied quietly, but he didn’t remove his hand.

Did he know? Draco doubted it. H

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