Harry was able to be discharged the next day, but he was to be kept under constant supervision. Normally that wouldn't be necessary, but he was Harry Potter after all.

Hermione had brought an extremely grumpy Harry home, who only became tolerable once he saw Draco sitting on his couch.

"Draco!"

"Alright Potter, let's get you settled shall we?"

"Did you clean?"

"I'm allergic to dust. This place was coated in it."

"I'm not here very much," Harry replied lightly.

"This poor house. It's going to look ten times better before I go back home."

"I don't think you can make that progress in a couple of hours."

"Hours? Try a week."

Harry's mouth fell open, and he stared at Draco.

"You're staying?"

"Of course I'm staying. Someone has to take care of you and make sure you don't do anything else stupid. No offense Granger, but if you put three impulsive Gryffindors together, you lose all sense of self-preservation."

"That... that is fair. You're in good hands Harry. I think."

"I'm in the best hands. Draco will take the best care of me," Harry replied earnestly, silently urging her to leave.

"You better let him," Hermione threatened before she left. "I'll check in tomorrow to make sure you're both still alive."

"Did she just adopt me?," Draco asked, wrinkling his nose after Hermione had gone.

"She did. Welcome to the family."

"And here I thought I'd have to marry into it," Draco replied sarcastically, fiddling with Harry's pillows.

"If you're proposing, the answer is yes."

"As if."

"What, you wouldn't marry me?"

"I'm sorry, are you proposing now?"

"And if I was?"

"I'd say if you get down on one knee you'd re-bruise your ribs. I think the medications are getting to you. Go to sleep."

"All I've done is sleep," Harry huffed, pulling the blanket tighter to his chest.

"That means you're healing."

"It means that I miss spending time with you because I'm asleep."

"Oh. I suppose I can do with a nap."

"Yeah?"

"Budge up. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't, but I appreciate you."

Harry fell asleep almost immediately, leaning against Draco. Draco had missed him terribly, the distance really beginning to get to him. He was terrified that there was a chance Harry wouldn't wake up, and he did a lot of thinking about things he'd left unsaid. Maybe once Harry was healed, Draco would have the courage to tell him how he felt.

He shouldn't have to tell him though. How many times had Draco said that he would never come back to England unless it was for a good reason? He had denied visiting Harry in the past, did he not realize what this meant? Draco had dropped absolutely everything to be here, and he hoped Harry would realize that.

Or, maybe not. That would make Harry feel extremely guilty, that Draco had dropped everything to be here. Draco had gone home briefly to collect whatever paperwork he could to be able to work from home. Thankfully, the potions lab was not needed this week. There were contracts to read, new potion ideas to sort, and a Harry to take care of.

All of the thoughts circulating around Draco's head finally lulled him to sleep, with his arms wrapped protectively around Harry.

Harry dreamed, and he dreamt of Draco. So many of their adventures played through his dreams like a movie montage, and he would never get tired of it. Harry's favorite movie in the series? The first time he and Draco had seen the Eiffel Tower.

It had been that first week Harry had found Draco, and he kept his promise in showing Harry the sights. Night had fallen, and Harry was ready for dinner, but Draco insisted that they had one last place to go.

Harry's eyes had widened comically and his head tilted back to take in the view. He was unaware of how the lights softened all of the lines on his face and illuminated his features.

"Well?," Draco asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"It's beautiful."

"I hope you hold it in the same regard once you see the prices in the gift shop."

"I don't spend my money anyway," Harry had murmured for only Draco to hear, his eyes never leaving the tower.

"Why does this mean so much to you?"

"After being locked away for so long as a child, I dreamt of seeing the world. I thought I was going to take a year and travel after the war, but it wasn't in the cards for me I suppose. They didn't even want me to go back to make up the year of school that I missed. Apparently practical experience is better than theoretically.

To me, this means that I made it. I survived. I'm not 11 and trapped in a cupboard anymore. I'm standing in France, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like there's hope. I have faith in the future."

"Then we have to commemorate the moment with a photo."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Move a little to the left. Perfect, right there."

"Thank you. Did you want a photo?"

"I've seen it enough times, thank you."

"Ah, but you've never seen it with me. Come here."

Harry spent an alarming amount of money on a 3D frame to hold their photo in front of the Eiffel Tower, but Draco had never seen Harry look at anything like that. He gleefully bought them matching Eiffel Tower keychains despite Draco's protests, and that was where Draco got the idea to buy Harry the most ridiculous souvenirs that he could find.

When Harry awoke next, he was alone.

"Draco?," he called, voice raspy from sleep.

"In the kitchen Potter."

Harry sighed in relief as Draco returned with a glass of water.

"Are you alright?"

"I thought I imagined you."

"If you had, you would have recalled my voice telling you not to do something stupid."

"I listened to the one that told me not to get killed, if it's any consolation," Harry replied sheepishly.

"What am I going to do with you Harry?," Draco asked in exasperation.

"Come here."

"Absolutely not. You're not comforting me when I should be comforting you."

"Either way, you should be here, next to me."

Draco sat down next to Harry, who curled up into his lap, wincing as he bent the wrong way.

"Easy there darling. I'm not going anywhere. Not this week at least," Draco clarified, running his hand through Harry's hair. "I packed some of my things, along with enough work to last me a week. I'll be taking over your dining room table I'm afraid."

"Take whatever you want, I don't care. I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here."

"Did you think I wouldn't come?"

"I was afraid no one would be in contact with you."

"They weren't. When I didn't hear from you for a day, I knew something was definitely wrong. I initially came here to yell at you, until I saw the Prophet. This is the only time I've hated being right."

"The last thing I wanted was to worry you."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I came home after the best week of my life, and as soon as I stepped onto my property, I got a nice little visit from the Head Auror. He barely let me put down my things because forcing me to the ministry, where there was essentially an 'intervention.' I was yelled at, demeaned, and made out to be the villain for simply wanting vacation time. He didn't like it very much when I pointed out he had taken the whole month of December off, but apparently that was different.

I was immediately sent out on a solo mission, and I think it was a set up. It was a brand new case, I wasn't given the file on it. Somehow it was urgent, and me not responding to the calls only made matters worse. Did I mention I got written up for not being on call, and for getting injured?"

"I'll kill them."

"You're too cute for Azkaban, they'd eat you alive."

"As if you would ever let me get thrown in there."

"You're right, I wouldn't. I'd set the world on fire before I let anything happen to you."

Harry stayed curled up on Draco's lap, focusing on the feeling of Draco's hands in his hair as opposed to the burning sensation in his lungs. Wheezing, he sat up and rubbed his chest.

"You punctured a lung you idiot, why were you laying like that!"

"I wanted to be close to you."

"You're an idiot."

"I'm glad I have you to remind me every day, it really keeps my ego in check."

"I made you some soup. It's probably not very good because I've only watched you make it. I bought pre-cooked chicken so I didn't kill the both of us. Did you..."

"Yes, I'll check it. Thank you love," Harry said sincerely, giving Draco a careful hug.

"Should you even be walking?"

"I dunno. Hermione listened to the care instructions."

"What were you doing?"

"Brooding."

Draco laughed, shaking his head at Harry.

"Maybe we've spent too much time together."

"Not nearly enough. Thank you for the soup."

"Don't thank me yet, I don't know if it's any good," Draco warned, pulling bowls from the cabinet.

"It's the thought that counts. I need to give you a tour."

"I've been finding my way around okay enough."

"I'm being a bad host."

"Potter, you're only hosting me because you almost died. Again."

"If you can't-"

"Shut up will you? Merlin I'm not going anywhere, it was a joke," Draco huffed, walking over to Harry and placing his hands on his shoulders. "Do you really think that if you needed me for anything at all, I wouldn't come?"

"No, I don't think that. You're always there for me in whatever capacity you can be."

"I know that I can't always be there physically, but I'm always a letter or a firecall away. I'd see you every day if I could, but right now it's just not plausible Harry. I have my work and you have yours, until I burn the fucking ministry to the ground," Draco ended in a mutter. "For legal reasons, that's a joke."

"Hmm I hope so, or else I'd have to arrest you," Harry teased, taking a step forward and trapping Draco between himself and the counter.

"You'd have to catch me first. I won't go down willingly."

"It doesn't look like you're going anywhere."

Harry heard the floo fire up and muttered, "way to kill the mood" to himself as he slowly walked over to check it out. Draco heard his sharp laugh, and peeked his head into the next room.

"Do I want to know?"

"I'll tell you later. I want some of that soup."

After dinner, Harry soon fell asleep once again, with his head in Draco's lap. Draco had to carefully summon his work and keep it levitating in the air so that he didn't disturb Harry. A few hours had passed before Draco gently woke him up.

"Hmm?"

"You have to take your potions now darling. Then, we'll get you in bed."

"I keep falling asleep," Harry pouted.

"That means you're healing. Come on."

"I'll take them if I can have ice cream."

"That's doable. Let me grab them. There's also lotion to help with the bruising."

Harry reached out his hand for the jar, and Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why do I feel like you'll hurt yourself trying to apply this?"

"Because I'm stubborn, and I don't know how to ask for help when I need it."

"That's my Gryffindor."

"And you're my Slytherin."

Draco could've sworn Harry placed extra emphasis on the word "my." He would be Harry's anything and everything if that's what the other man wanted.

"Potion, lotion, and then ice cream. Do you have ice cream?"

"I always have ice cream."

"I'm glad you have your priorities set. Can you make it up the stairs?"

"Whether I can or I should are two completely different questions," Harry deadpanned.

"I'll get your pyjamas for you then."

While Draco did that, Harry made his way into the bathroom. When Draco came looking for him a few minutes later, he found Harry staring at his reflection in the mirror, his face expressionless.

"Are you okay?," Draco asked gently.

"No, I'm not. Potion?," he asked, tearing his eyes away from his reflection.

"Bottoms up."

Draco let a laugh slip at the face Harry made after taking the potion, and Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco in response.

"Shirt off, I want ice cream."

"I love when you're demanding," Harry replied with a snicker, the joke falling short as he moved his arms the wrong way.

"Let me," Draco offered, undoing the buttons with slightly shaking hands.

He carefully slid the shirt off of Harry's shoulders, clenching the fabric in his hands after he turned around to place it in the laundry bin. Exhaling, he resumed the task at hand.

It was easier, once he learned that Harry was ticklish. All it took was one squeak, and Draco had a dangerous gleam in his eyes.

"Are you ticklish?," he asked, barely brushing the skin of Harry's sides.

"No, the lotion is cold. Do you really want to test this after I punctured a lung?"

"That sounds like a promise for another day."

Draco helped Harry into a pyjama shirt, and left Harry to change his trousers. He got changed into his own pyjamas, and began searching through Harry's freezer. He let out a soft breath of air when he pulled out his favorite ice cream flavor.

"I had hope," Harry answered the unasked question hanging in the air.

Harry had said it so casually, as if he didn't know the type of effect that would have on Draco. Draco pulled out a second pint of ice cream, Harry's favorite, and grabbed spoons, all without saying a word.

"Sickle for your thoughts?"

"Nothing important. Let's eat."

It was the next day, and Draco had woken up to the sun shining in his room. He had no idea what time it was, but he knew Harry had to take another potion. Quickly getting dressed, Draco made his way downstairs, freezing in the doorway as a figure came into view.

Even though he was injured, Harry's presence was still captivating. It was his eyes that kept Draco in place, not the Minister of Magic's.

"Draco Malfoy."

"Minister," Draco replied, immediately slipping back into his old Malfoy mannerisms.

"I've been hearing much about this new potion of yours Mr. Malfoy. I have to say, I'm impressed."

"That's what happens when I'm allowed to work, as a free man."

"We could use work like yours," the Minister continued.

"You had your chance, I'm afraid. I'm happy where I am now, without prejudices. I'm seen for what's in my head, not on my left forearm. You didn't want to give me a chance, so I went elsewhere where I have full control over my work. That is where I shall remain. I'm gone in a few days."

With that, Draco walked into the kitchen to begin making breakfast. Harry joined him a few minutes later, wrapping himself around Draco from behind.

"Watch your ribs Potter."

"It was kind of hot watching you tell off the Minster," Harry murmured in Draco's ear, making him spin around quickly.

"Why was he even here?"

"He was surprised by the lawsuit and wanted to hear my side of the story. The Head Auror has painted a completely different picture of the situation. Are you making pancakes?"

"Is this you not wanting to talk about this?"

"I need to process it myself, but I will talk with you about it Draco, I promise. I just need to get things in order."

"And take your potion."

Harry wrinkled his nose, and Draco couldn't help but poke it.

"I love you," Harry said simply, a goofy grin lighting up his face. "Where's the potion?"

"Bathroom cabinet," Draco responded automatically, those three words playing through his head.

He didn't have much time to dwell on them as Hermione showed up, and Draco felt validated that she knew her way around the kitchen much less than he did. The both of them could follow instructions though, even if Harry wasn't specific enough. The pancakes weren't burnt, and that was what mattered.

It was the next day when things slowly started making sense. Harry had been too tired to talk that night, that potions making him tired to allow for more natural healing. In a few days he would be as good as new.

"Hey Draco, are you busy?"

Draco had been in the middle of creating an ingredients list when Harry asked. Harry was in bed, able to get up the stairs on his own, and Draco was working at Harry's desk.

"Did you need something?"

"I think I'm going to quit the Aurors," Harry announced.

Draco carefully put his notes aside, and walked towards Harry.

"Budge up."

Sliding into bed behind Harry, he wrapped his arms around Harry's stomach and guided him to lean against Draco.

"Talk to me."

"So you remember that the Minister was here yesterday."

"However could I forget him looking at me as if I was a walking galleon."

Harry laughed, leaning further back so that his head was against Draco's shoulder.

"Not strained?"

"No, a little stretch feels good," Harry replied. "You smell really nice you know."

"I'm glad my expensive cologne isn't going to waste. Stop getting distracted and tell me what happened."

"The Minister saw that I was written up twice and he found that to be odd considering I was in Mungo's. Then he got served with papers by Hermione and Pansy, who came back early specifically to see the look on his face. I'll have to request to see the memory.

He contacted me via floo yesterday and wanted to set up a meeting. I chose a time I thought you'd be asleep, hoping to keep you out of this mess. I didn't want him saying anything to you, I didn't think I could control myself."

"So Pansy knows I'm here?"

Draco started with the simplest part of the story.

"I told her if you wanted to see her, you would, and not to push you too far. But if she wanted to get rid of that wine I would take some off her hands," Harry said cheekily. "That was in a note for Hermione to deliver, a pity I didn't get to see the reaction. Mione said Pansy just wants you to be happy."

"I'm happy right now. I'd be even happier if you weren't injured."

"I should be all good to go tomorrow, so you should be ecstatic then."

"I'm glad you're healing well."

"You're still going to stay the rest of the week though, right?"

"Yes, I am. No need to get another injury to make sure I'm staying. I like my Scarhead in one piece, thank you very much."

"I want to stay in one piece for you. And for me for that matter."

"Good. I don't think you should make any rash decisions though. You should think on it, and decide if this is really what you want to do. I'll support you either way Harry, you deserve to be happy."

"Like you said, I'm happy now, minus the injury. I think this is all I need."

"But I want more," Harry mentally added, looking up at Draco. "So much more."