SquidgeWorld Archive

In the Middle of the Woods
by jameschick
james_chick2002@yahoo.ca

He knew it was a bad idea from the very start. Sure, the muggleborns might be okay in this sort of environment, but the others? Harry shook his head and listened with a growing sense of anxiety as the new Muggle Studies Professor gave his speech before sending them off alone in the woods for the next two days. ‘Survival classes’ was what he called them, but in Harry's opinion, they were more like torture sessions. And the fact that it was a mandatory class this year, and that it was a Gryffindor/Slytherin mix could only spell disaster.

What do you get when you leave a dozen pureblood wizards and witches alone in the woods for two days without magic? A lawsuit from their parents when they all die of exposure or starvation was Harry's thought.

"Listen up, everybody. If I could have your attention, please." Professor Wiles - a short, balding little man with crooked teeth and breath worse than Snape's - was trying to be heard, not to mention seen, over the complaining seventh year students who were none to happy about this particular field trip. "I will be assigning pairs, boys with boys and girls with girls. You will remain with your assigned partner, no matter what, until I come back to collect you in two days time."

Assigned pairs. Harry felt his stomach drop. Every time he was assigned a partner by a Professor it was always a Slytherin, and nine out of ten times, it was Malfoy. Two days alone in the woods with Draco Malfoy? He'd kill him.

"Now," Professor Wiles continued. "We have been working toward this trip for weeks now and I have no doubts what-so-ever that you are all, indeed, ready for this experience. If you followed my instructions, you should have everything you need to be comfortable stowed in your backpacks."

Harry heard several people around him snort in distain, and he had to agree with them. Wizards thought camping meant you brought a tent that had four bedrooms and appliances within. While it was definitely a bit of overkill, it was far nicer than sleeping on the ground. That and he really didn't see the point of this lesson at all. If anything, the Professor should have dropped them all off in the middle of London with an underground schedule, a change of clothes and enough money for a room. That would have been a more practical test of survival for magical people.

"When I call your names, please come to the front and I will port-key you and your partner to your assigned location. Any questions?" Wiles looked around and then clapped his hands together. "Wonderful! Okay, we'll start with.... Granger, Hermione and Parkinson, Pansy."

Harry sent Hermione a look of sympathy and shook his head at Ron when he scowled and opened his mouth to say something. "It'll only make it worse, Ron. 'Mione can handle herself with Pansy, leave it be."

Ron nodded and the pair of them went back to listening as the Professor continued to call out names until there were only four students left. Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Malfoy. If there was a God, Harry and Ron would end up together, leaving Malfoy and Seamus to deal with each other, but Harry was afraid that wasn't going to happen and his fears were confirmed as the Professor called out, "Malfoy, Draco and Potter, Harry."

"Tough luck, mate," Ron squeezed Harry's shoulder in sympathy, but Harry could see that there was relief in his eyes that it wasn't him that got stuck with Malfoy. "Although, you could probably off him in the woods and tell everyone he was eaten by a bear," Ron looked entirely too giddy at his suggestion and Harry just rolled his eyes.

"I won't need to kill him, Ron. He probably will get eaten by a bear," Harry shouldered his pack and made his way up to where Malfoy and the Professor were waiting. Malfoy was glowering at him, but he didn't say anything. He'd been unusually quiet since Lucius' arrest. Sure, he still taunted Ron about being poor and called Hermione a Mudblood from time to time but it seemed like it was almost forced. He rarely ever spoke to Harry anymore.

Harry scowled darkly at his partner and then touched his finger to the worn paperback novel, the familiar but still nauseating sensation of being hooked through the navel began and then he found himself standing in the middle of a forest with Malfoy by his side.

Harry sighed and started walking. He had no idea where he was, or what he was supposed to do about his partner, but he knew he needed to find water and a good spot to set up camp. He listened carefully as he made his way east through the trees and finally heard the sound of running water. A few minutes later he came out of the trees into a clearing beside a river.

Setting his pack down, Harry turned his head to see if Malfoy had followed him. He hadn't, of course, and Harry really didn't care to go back for him. He fished his canteen out of his pack and knelt down at the water's edge to fill it.

"If he doesn't show up by the time I get my tent set up, I'll go look for him," Harry said to himself while he looked around for the best place to put his tent.

Harry found a nice level spot just outside the line of trees and began setting up the various poles and lines. He was halfway through the task when he heard Draco - finally - emerge from the trees. He ignored him, figuring if he could manage to put up a tent - having never been camping before - than so could Malfoy. Boy, was he wrong.

After several minutes of silent frustration, Draco finally lost it and pitched his tent - poles, stakes and all - into the river and flipped it off as it floated down stream. He didn't see what the big deal was anyway; surely Potter's tent would have an extra bedroom he could sleep in. And why should he - a Malfoy - have to set up his own tent anyway? It was servants’ work, meant to be done by house elves or squibs.

Harry looked up when he heard the splash and his mouth fell open in horror as he watched Draco's tent float away. "Malfoy, you idiot!" he yelled and stomped over to the smirking boy. "What the hell did you do that for? Now where are you going to sleep?"

"I'll just take your tent Potter, surely you're used to sleeping outside. You live with Muggles after all," Draco said with distain.

Harry snorted. "First, the Muggles I live with have a house - like most Muggles do. Second, I am not giving you my tent just because you're a stupid sod and tossed yours in the river. Third..." Harry started to say when Draco held up one hand to silence him.

"While I wouldn't ordinarily stoop so low, I guess since it is your tent and all, we can share. Surely it has an extra bedroom, or a sofa at the very least?"

Harry groaned. "These are muggle tents, Malfoy. That means there are no rooms, no sofas, no appliances, or bathrooms or anything else for that matter. It's just a tent, Malfoy. Nothing else."

Draco looked at Harry sceptically and then marched over to where Harry's tent was standing - Harry having just finished setting it up. He opened the flap, stuck his head in and let out a horrified shriek. "They expect us to sleep in these?" He cried. "It's smaller than my wardrobe for Merlin's sake!"

"Well, it's a fair bit bigger than my cupboard," Harry mumbled.

"What was that, Potter?" Draco asked as he pulled his head out of Harry's tent.

"Nothing," Harry sighed. "Look, Malfoy, I'll probably regret this but... You can share my tent. As long as you stop being a prat, do your share of the work around here, and if you need help with something, ask for it."

Draco scowled. "Fine. But only because I don't want to sleep outside and get bitten by bugs," he replied. "They are rather fond of pure-bloods, you know."

Harry scoffed at him. "Yeah, whatever, Malfoy. Get your fishing rod out of your pack and go catch something while I start a fire."

Draco stood stock still for several minutes in which Harry gathered some kindling from around the trees. When Harry turned back and saw that Draco hadn't moved, he huffed in annoyance and after setting the sticks down, crossed his arms over his chest. "What now, Malfoy? Did you toss your rod into the river as well?"

Draco growled and spun on his heel. As he walked back to his pack and began rummaging through it he was muttering under his breath, getting louder and louder until Harry distinctly heard him say, "...not like I couldn't rub two sticks together, but does he let me? Noooo, I get to catch fish. Eurgh, I hate fish! They're slimy and they smell bad, and I have to touch worms as well!"

Harry sniggered and shook his head. Draco was such a priss; he couldn't help but be amused by him. As for 'rubbing two sticks together', Harry pulled the box of matches from his pack and smiled to himself. "Hmm, maybe I should have let him try and make a fire. If nothing else, it would be fun to see how long he lasted before snapping."

Several minutes later, Harry had a nice fire-pit dug and lined with stones. He turned to watch Draco as he stood by the water's edge with his fishing pole in hand. Surprisingly, he'd not only gotten it put together properly, but had managed to cast it into the water without incident as well. Slightly amazed, Harry began arranging the pile of kindling around a couple of logs and was just about to light a match when he heard a shout, followed by a splash, and then a lot of very loud and creative cursing.

"Oh, bollocks!" Harry exclaimed as he saw Draco in the river. He couldn't help but chuckle as he watched the other boy get to his feet and try to climb up the bank to dry land. Of course the bank was muddy and slippery, and Draco, naturally, fell back in several times before successfully getting himself up the bank and onto the grass.

It took Harry a few minutes to stop laughing before he could walk the short distance and see if the other boy was all right. When he finally got there, he couldn't help but chuckle again at the sight of Draco Malfoy, covered in mud from the riverbank, hair plastered to the side of his face, and a fish flopping around in the pocket of his jacket.

"Well, at least you caught dinner," Harry said with a smile as he reached down and pulled the fish free. "Come on, you best get changed before you catch a chill."

Draco climbed to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster, flipped Harry a two fingered salute and headed for his pack.

Harry let him go, figuring he was better off not agitating him further if he had to sleep in the same tent with him. Instead, he went to his own pack and retrieved his fishing rod. He quickly put it together and headed back to the river. Like them or not, he was pretty sure that Draco would be laying claim to the fish he luckily caught, and so Harry set out to catch his own supper.

Half an hour later, Harry had cleaned the fish, made a fire and was in the process of opening a tin of beans to go with the fish when a much cleaner, though thoroughly disgruntled, Draco finally emerged from the tent.

"Took you long enough," Harry muttered as he dumped the beans into a pot and set it in the flames to heat.

"Yes, well," Draco replied, "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get dressed in a place where you can’t even stand up?"

Harry thought back to the previous summer, where after finally learning of Sirius's death, his Uncle had moved him back into the cupboard, even though at almost seventeen years old, he barely fit. "Yeah, actually I do."

Draco raised an eyebrow but at Harry's stormy expression, let it go. "So, what are you cooking?"

"Fish and beans," Harry replied. "If you don't like it, you're more than welcome to go pick berries in the woods or something."

"Oh yes, and I'm sure you'd be more than helpful in pointing me towards the poisonous ones, wouldn't you, Potty?"

Harry sighed. "Sarcasm is a way of life for you isn't it, Malfoy?"

"Who says I wasn't being serious?" Draco said as he sneered at Harry. "You put my father in prison, and I know you killed my Auntie Bella, I bet you can't wait to do away with another member of my family. So how much did you pay Professor Wiles to send me off into the middle of the woods with you?"

"You... I... Oh for..." Harry got to his feet and rounded on Draco, looking down at the sitting boy in fury. "Your father is a Death Eater, he put himself in prison with the choices he made. As for your Auntie," Harry sneered, "she killed my Godfather, and got away with it I might add, then the next time I saw her, she tried to kill my best mate!"

Harry's eyes took on a haunted look as he remembered the incident in Hogsmeade. Ron had gone to meet Susan Bones at the Three Broomsticks for a date when the Death Eaters had apparated into the bar. Bellatrix had her wand at Ron's throat and would have killed him. Harry had acted on instinct, he'd tackled her to the floor and in the ensuing scuffle he'd broken her neck. "I didn't even mean to kill her, it was an accident."

"My father is not a Death Eater," Draco replied softly. "He isn't."

Harry opened his mouth, a sharp retort on his tongue, but it died at the look on Draco's face. Was it possible, he thought to himself, that Draco actually believed that? "Malfoy, I know what I saw, and I saw him with the other Death Eaters, in full garb and pointing a wand at my friends and me. I'm sorry if that's not what you want to hear."

Draco just shook his head. "He isn't a Death Eater, Potter. And if he was there, then he was under Imperius. It wouldn't be the first time You-Know-Who has used my family."

Harry didn't believe that for a minute, but for the sake of peace - for the next couple of days anyway - he decided to let it go. "Whatever, Malfoy. Let's just drop the subject and agree not to bring it up again, alright?"

Draco nodded and Harry got back to his cooking.

After a full and satisfying meal, Harry sent Draco to rinse their dishes whilst he put up the leftover food and hung a makeshift clothesline by the fire to dry Draco's clothes. He had just finished hanging the Slytherin's socks when he heard the splash.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy. Again?" he asked with a slight grin as he made his way toward the riverbank to see if the other boy needed help.

Laughing probably wasn't the smartest thing he could have done, but he just couldn't hold it back. Still, it shouldn't have come as a shock that when he held out his hand to help Draco out of the water that he got pulled in instead.

"Malfoy!" Harry hollered as he surfaced. "What the fuck?"

"Serves you right for laughing, Potter. And if you think I'm stepping anywhere near this sodding river again, you've got another think coming!" the dishevelled blonde fumed. "Twice you've sent me off like a house-elf to this blasted place, and both times I've gotten soaking wet! From now on, you will do the fishing, the washing, and anything else that has to do with coming within ten feet of this damn river!"

Knowing better than to argue, Harry accepted Malfoy's demand with a simple nod and climbed back up on to the bank. "Do you need a hand, or do you think you can manage on your own? Only, I'm wet, cold, and uncomfortable so if you can't get out on your own say so now. Otherwise I'm leaving your arse here and going to dry off."

Draco took the offered assistance and after getting back onto dry land, followed Harry back to the fire where the soaking wet Gryffindor proceeded to strip down. Draco watched him in shock and not a small amount of interest.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing?" he asked.

"What does it look like? I'm taking my wet clothes off and hanging them to dry," Harry replied as he stepped out of his soaked trousers and wrung them out before draping them over the line and sitting down on a log to peel off his socks.

"Out here? In the open?"

Harry gave Draco a funny look and continued undressing. "Yes, out here. I don't want to get the tent any wetter, we have to sleep there."

It made sense, unfortunately, and so Draco turned his back to Harry and began undressing as well. When he was stripped down to his underwear, he took his dripping pile of clothes over to where the others were and started to hang them.

"Wait," Harry called out as he moved toward him. "If you don't wring the water out of them first, they'll never dry." He demonstrated by taking Draco's shirt and giving it a thorough wringing. Draco followed suit and soon the line was filled with three sets of wet clothes. Draco sat down by the fire with a grimace. "My pants are still wet, yuck," he complained.

"Take them off and wring them out like I did," Harry offered with a shrug.

"You... when... I didn't see..." Draco trailed off, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"You had your back turned," Harry answered with a grin. "Go ahead, I won't look," Harry said turning away and closing his eyes.

Draco thought about refusing, but he didn't want to sit in sopping wet pants if he didn't have to. "Alright, but make sure you keep your eyes closed, Potter. I've heard all about you and your... proclivities," Draco huffed.

"Please, as if you'd be my type anyway," Harry scoffed, but then turned slightly and cracked open one eye just as Draco bent over to pick up his discarded underwear; giving Harry a nice view of his firm backside.

Somebody call Olympus - they've lost Adonis, Harry thought to himself as he watched the other boy straighten up and then wring out his wet pants. Draco might be a bit on the thin side, but he was definitely fit looking. All pale smooth skin over lean hard muscle. Much better looking naked than Harry would have thought. He'd have to seriously rethink his last statement to the pale god standing before him. Draco was gorgeous.

Quickly turning away before he got caught, Harry waited for Malfoy to signal to him that it was safe to turn around. After a few moments in silence Draco finally cleared his throat. "You can turn back, Potter. I'm as decent as I'm going to get for the next eight hours or so."

Harry turned back with an inquisitive look on his face. "What, why?" he asked.

Draco motioned toward his wet clothing. "Both sets of clothes are wet and I didn't pack pyjamas seeing as I thought I'd be sleeping alone."

"Oh," Harry whispered and bit his lip. "Er, I'd offer you mine, but I didn't bring any either. Looks like neither one of us is in the habit of wearing them, huh?"

"Guess not. Look, Potter, I'm going to get my sleeping bag thingy and go to bed if you don't mind," Draco said, standing up and heading for his pack.

"That's fine. Just, leave me some room in there. I'm going to wait for my shorts to dry a bit more before turning in. Somehow I don't think you'd appreciate it much if I took them off to sleep."

Draco stiffened and tried not to squeak when the vivid mental image of Potter, naked, assaulted him. There was no way in hell that he would ever let the other boy know how attractive he found him. It just wasn't right, him fancying Harry Potter! "Er, no, not particularly."

Harry waited until Draco was inside the tent and settled in for the night before standing up and stripping off his damp underwear. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of being naked in the middle of nowhere, wandless, and with Draco Malfoy of all people to have to depend on should there be trouble, but he was also tired, and he couldn't sleep in wet pants.

Holding the offending garment closer to the fire, Harry stiffened in alarm as he hear the first distinctive crack of apparition. It's only Professor Wiles, Harry tried to tell himself. He's just come to check up on us and make sure Malfoy and I haven't killed each other.

Then the second crack sounded. Followed by a third, and then a fourth. Harry stopped counting by this point and gathering his Gryffindor courage, turned around to face the intruders.

Death Eaters. In full regalia. At least a dozen of them. And Voldemort as well.

I'm naked and surrounded by Death Eaters, Harry thought somewhat hysterically. Don't forget Voldemort, Harry. He's here too, you know, his subconscious reminded him.

A highly inappropriate giggle almost escaped Harry's lips as the thought, turn about is fair play, crossed his mind. After all, he had seen Voldemort naked before, back in his fourth year when he was reborn from the cauldron.

"Well, well, Harry Potter," a familiar and much hated voice hissed in delight. "I was hoping to see you tonight, but I wasn't expecting to see so much of you."

There were titters of amusement from the gathered Death Eaters and Harry felt his face flush with humiliation. The only thing that could have possibly made this worse would be if Lucius Malfoy were present. Or Snape. Or both. That would be the stuff of nightmares.

Holding his chin up high, Harry refused to let Voldemort's words affect him any further. If the self-professed Dark Lord wanted to banter verbally, he would play along. For now. "Why, Tom, was that a compliment? Because, you know, while you might be impressed by my size I have to tell you that I'm really quite average in stature. Of course, compared to what little you yourself possess, I'm really not surprised that you'd be awed by..."

Harry's words were drowned out by Voldemort's bellow of rage.

It quickly deteriorated from there. Voldemort threw curses at him like a madman and Harry ran, ducked, and dodged them in all his naked glory. After one particularly painful move - having slid along his front on the ground to avoid an AK being fired at his head - he rolled over and looked up - straight into the white mask of a Death Eater standing over him.

Terrified, Harry almost missed the soft words spoken. "My wand, Potter, take it from me and defend yourself!" the voice of Severus Snape, Potions Master, and more importantly spy for the Order of the Phoenix, whispered.

Doing as he was told, Harry quickly leaped to his feet, snagged the wand from his Professor’s hand, and ignoring his state of undress, threw himself back into battle.

"Where is the Malfoy boy?" Harry heard Voldemort shout at a short, stout Death Eater. "You said he would be here, Wiles! Why is he not here, fighting at my side as I was promised? Lucius!" Voldemort roared and Harry saw one of the Death Eaters turn his head. "Where is your son?"

Great, Harry thought as he glanced toward the tent, hoping that Draco had the brains to stay inside and out of trouble, it really is the stuff of nightmares. Snape and Malfoy Can my luck get any worse? Harry wished he hadn't tempted fate as Lucius - at least Harry assumed it was Lucius - stormed toward the tent and reaching inside, dragged Draco out into the open.

It was ridiculous, really, the way the battle seemed to come to a stand still for just a few seconds as the surrounding wizards took in Draco’s state of undress. It didn't take long for Malfoy senior to look from Harry's naked form to Draco's barely covered one, plus the fact that there was only one tent, and come to the wrong conclusion.

"You are a disgrace to the name of Malfoy," Lucius roared. "Not only are you a flaming queer, you're shagging Harry Potter of all people?" Lucius dropped his son to the ground and kicked him hard in the ribs. The onlookers snapped back to themselves and battle resumed as more loud popping noises could be heard. The Order of the Phoenix had arrived.

At that moment Harry was torn between relief at having back-up and mortification at being naked in front of his friends, adopted family members, and co-workers. I've had nightmares more pleasant than this, he thought to himself as he skidded behind a large rock to take cover.

Dumbledore was currently facing off with Voldemort, so Harry took the opportunity to turn his wand on the elder Malfoy who was still delivering blows to his downed son. He fired off a stunning spell, hitting Lucius squarely in the back and as the man toppled forward, Harry rushed to Draco's side and dropped down beside him.

"Draco," Harry panted as he began pulling on the blonde's arm, "you have to get back in the tent and stay down. You're unarmed and vulnerable now that the Death Eaters think I'm shagging you."

Draco merely groaned in response and Harry cursed under his breath. "Look, Malfoy, I'm naked in the middle of the woods surrounded by Death Eaters and Order members. I do not have time to baby-sit you!"

Draco looked Harry over and blushed. "Go, Potter. I'll be fine here as long as I stay down."

Harry was sceptical about that but didn't have time to argue about it as he heard Tonks cry out in pain and knew he was needed in the fight. "My vault for a bloody pair of pants," he muttered as he moved quickly away from Draco and back into the fight. If he survived this, he was never going to be able to look at any of these people, without blushing, ever again.

From his vantage point on the ground, Draco watched as Harry battled with the Death Eaters, as he shouted curses and they dropped one by one. He had never seen anything more beautiful than Harry Potter bathed in firelight, wand drawn, eyes blazing, and muscles rippling as he moved, dodging curses and throwing them back out like the warrior he was. He was primal, powerful; under different circumstances, Draco would have been incredibly turned on about now. Hell, even under these circumstances, he was more than a little aroused.

Sure, he found Potter attractive, but that was more in a 'isn't he just so darn cute with those glasses and that wild hair and those big green eyes' kind of way. What he was seeing now was a completely different side of Harry Potter. This wasn't the boy he went to school with. The one who blushed at subtle innuendo and couldn't dance to save his own life. This wasn't even the fierce competitor that he flew against and had never once beaten at Quidditch.

This wasn't a boy at all. This Harry Potter was a man, and a powerful one at that. Not just magically either he noted as he saw the man in question take out one of the Death Eaters with a kick to the throat.

The battle turned for the worse as Dumbledore went down after he was caught in the leg with a bone-dissolving hex. Voldemort wasted no time in turning away from him as one of the Death Eaters put the Headmaster in a full body bind. Harry was facing off with two Death Eaters who were keeping him pretty busy and he couldn't see Voldemort coming at him from behind. Draco panicked, hauling himself up to his knees he shouted, "Harry! Behind you!"

Harry turned, narrowly avoiding a hex from one of the Death Eaters, and came face to face with his worst nightmare. Arthur Weasley stunned one of the black robed men that Harry had been duelling and Tonks - from her position on the ground - had gotten the other. It was just Harry and Voldemort now.

"I've waited a long time for this day, Harry Potter," Voldemort spoke as he raised his wand, Harry mirroring his actions and raising his as well. "Today, you leave the world the same way you came into it, dirty, naked, and powerless."

"If I die, so be it, but I'm taking you with me," Harry replied.

"Your arrogance astounds me, boy. Here you stand, naked, surrounded by your pathetic Order members who can do nothing to save you, and still you challenge me? Perhaps, I would have been better off to take you as my heir all those years ago instead of trying to kill you. Pity." Voldemort grinned nastily and then continued, "Any last words, perhaps you'd like to say goodbye to your lover? He is rather pretty for a boy; perhaps I shall keep him when this is all over and done with. I'm sure Lucius would be more than happy to turn the boy over to my care," Voldemort smirked and Harry saw red.

He wasn‘t sure why, but just the thought of Voldemort‘s hands on Draco‘s milky white flesh made him angry. So angry in fact that he could feel his magic building up inside of him until he was ready to explode. "You die. Now."

That said, Harry rushed Voldemort and took him to the ground. The Dark Lord, not expecting a physical attack, went down hard, his wand rolling away from him. Harry took a moment to savour his victory, and then aimed his wand at Voldemort's chest and shouted "Avada Kedavra" for all and sundry to hear.

It was over. Voldemort was dead. The Death Eaters that were not dead or incapable of movement had apparated out as soon as their Lord had fallen.

And Harry was still naked. "Would someone please bring me some sodding trousers?" he called out as he moved off of Voldemort’s fallen corpse. "My bits are going to freeze and fall off."

Several people chuckled weakly and Draco slowly made his way across the camp area towards Harry, stopping at the clothesline and retrieving Harry's trousers and shirt. "I think I might have a broken rib," he said conversationally as he helped Harry to his feet and into his clothes.

"Yeah? Well if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure I skinned my willy when I took a dive behind that rock over there, so I'm probably in more pain than you are," Harry answered as he carefully tucked said willy into his jeans and pulled up his zipper.

Draco snorted and then clutched his side. "Surprisingly, that does make me feel better, thanks, Potter."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Merlin,” Harry said shaking his head, “I killed Voldemort in the nude. The Prophet is going to have a bloody field day with this!"

"At least there were no pictures," Draco said as he helped Harry over to Dumbledore's side. "Although, I'm fairly decent at sketching, I could probably make a fortune off this." Harry scowled at that idea and Draco laughed again. "Good thing I already have a fortune and don't need the money then isn't it, Harry?"

Harry stopped and looked at Draco with something akin to wonder in his eyes. "Yeah, thanks for that... Draco."

As Harry knelt by Dumbledore's side and removed the body binding, the other Order members were rousing their fallen comrades and gathering the fallen Death Eaters as well. Snape came, retrieved his wand, and took Dumbledore over to where the newly arrived Aurors had set up a triage. It was then that Harry remembered Draco's ignorance about his father's true allegiance. With sorrow in his eyes he turned to Draco only to be brought up short as the other boy pressed a finger to Harry's lips to silence him.

"I'm sorry for before, but I really didn't know. Mother always said he was wrongly convicted, that as a Malfoy he had many enemies who would sink so low as to frame him. I love my father, Harry, I didn't want to believe he was a monster," Draco said softly and lowered his eyes.

"I understand, Draco. And I'm sorry too."

"Whatever for?" the blonde asked in confusion.

"I'm sorry that you had to find out this way. I'm sorry he misunderstood the situation and thinks you're a queer. I'm sorry for the way he treated you because he thought you were involved with me, and mostly, I'm sorry that you've been hurt because of me."

Draco shrugged his shoulders and looked up from where he was focussing on the ground to meet the intense look in Harry’s eyes. "He wasn't completely wrong, I am queer. As far being involved with you, well, I won't say the thought never crossed my mind."

Harry's shocked expression made Draco chuckle and shake his head. "You should close your mouth, Potter, you'll catch bugs."

"You... you're queer?"

Draco nodded.

"And you... like me?" Harry asked somewhat confused.

"Just a bit," Draco responded with a smirk.

"Are you sure you don't have a concussion?" Harry asked.

Draco laughed and shook his head. "No, no concussion, I just got a bit of a wake up call tonight. I could have died, Harry. If not for you I would have. My father would have killed me; I saw it written all over his face. Because of you, I live, and I'm not going to waste my life in denial or worry about what other people think. I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago - what I've been waiting ages to do."

In the middle of the woods, in a clearing that would go down in history as the place where Lord Voldemort was finally defeated, Draco Malfoy claimed Harry Potter's mouth in a fierce, passionate kiss.

And Harry Potter returned it.

The End