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A/N: This is my first attempt at slash, so I hope it came out okay! This was written for Lucid's Forbidden Love challenge, and I hope you enjoy it. It was written before HBP and is now AU.

An Exercise In Trust

Think, two things on their own and both at once
The first, that exercise in trust, where those in front
Stand with their arms spread wide and free fall
Backwards, blind and those behind take all the weight. (From the poem ‘Homecoming’ by Simon Armitage)


It was the first day at Auror Academy. Harry was out of school, Voldemort was dead, and he had been accepted into the Auror Academy straight away; despite his average at best NEWT scores, him having been just a little distracted at the time of taking them due to the raging war. Of course, turning down the man who killed Voldemort wouldn’t be a particularly bright thing to do.

None of his friends from Hogwarts had chosen to become an Auror like him, except for, surprisingly, Luna Lovegood. It seemed that she had been hiding something substantial behind her eccentric looks, but then again, it might explain how she had escaped unscathed from the fight at the Ministry in Harry’s fifth year.

Two others apart from Harry and Luna had also made it into Auror Academy. One was Terry Boot, a studious Ravenclaw, who had more than qualified academically, but had only scraped through in the practical entry examination. The other was one Draco Malfoy, who had passed with good marks in both areas.

Harry glared at the door in front of him from his position on his bed, remembering Malfoy’s smug face when Harry had spotted him lurking around the Academy entrance. The little ferret hadn’t changed at all; despite the fact he had fought for the Order of the Phoenix during the war. But Harry was being unfair and he knew it, although he loathed admitting it. Malfoy had in fact been a spy for McGonagall, who had in a way become the new leader of the Order, in the years since they had left school, and had been invaluable. He had only openly fought for the Order two years before the war’s end.

Harry and many others, including Malfoy, had fought bravely at the Last Battle, when Voldemort had finally met his match. It had not all been Harry, he was pleased to admit. He couldn’t have done it without Neville Longbottom, who had become an invaluable member of their army and a duellist matched by few others. Harry still found it difficult to believe that the Neville who had died so that Harry could defeat Voldemort, was the same as the bumbling boy from Hogwarts who couldn’t even master the Body-Binding Curse. Harry was still grieving for the loss of the young man who had become a firm friend, and a reliable fighter, as well as many others.

So many had fought. Harry had been surprised at the number; even half of the Slytherins in his year had fought for the Order. McGonagall had turned out to be an inspiring leader, not as knowledgeable as Dumbledore, but respected by one and all. She had a way, as Dumbledore had done, of making you wholly committed to her cause, and ready to fight even dragons for her. Harry would never have thought it at Hogwarts.

But then the war had brought out a lot of qualities in people that no one would have seen otherwise. Malfoy had turned out to be trustworthy, and passionate about their cause. Neville had finally found his talent at duelling. Luna had been a brilliant strategist, working with Snape’s team to figure out tactics. The Weasley twins had been fierce fighters, and had taken out nearly twenty enemies before dying within seconds of each other. No one even knew which had taken the first Killing Curse. It wouldn’t be fitting any other way, Harry reflected. They had lived together, and died together. Now they were buried together, in one of the many graveyards that had been built for the victims and warriors of the war.

The war was coming to an end now. The remaining Death Eaters were being rounded up, few actively resisting now that their Lord was gone. The rest of the varied creatures that had supported him were still fighting, but the incidents were slowly decreasing. So people could begin the difficult job of picking up the pieces of their broken lives, and try to start again where they had left off. It was a life of confusion. Many people, including Harry, had known only the war after leaving school, and that had taken up so much of their lives that now it was gone, they were at a loss at what to do.

It was also a life of grief. Things were back to normal, as much as they would ever be, but things would never be the same again. There were so many faces that would never be seen again, so many that were lost forever in a war that should never have happened. There were so many people left alone in the world, with no family left. Hermione was one. Her parents and sister had perished in an attack on her house, in an attempt to take out one of the Order’s leaders. She had floundered for a while, lost without the work she had undertaken constantly during the war, lost without her family, and lost without Ron.

Now she was finding her feet again, remembering old, forgotten ambitions that seemed to be from a lifetime ago. She was currently in medical school, training to be a Healer. Harry had decided, for lack of anything better to do, to work his way through Auror Academy to get the qualifications for the job he had effectively been doing since the age of eleven. At least it gave him a purpose in life.

The war had been such a big part of everyone’s lives. Everyone had had a part to play, something to do to help the war effort. Now Harry was returning to a life that had lain in a dusty corner since four years ago, when he had left school to work with the Order full time. It had been easy to throw it aside to concentrate on fulfilling his destiny, but it wasn’t so easy to dust it off and make it his again.

Harry’s alarm rang suddenly, magically throwing sparks in the air. He scowled at it, grabbing his wand so he could shut it up. Grumbling, he stood up, stretching like a cat. The beds in the Academy were small, and not particularly comfortable.

He was a morning person, really. There hadn’t been much tolerance for people who slept in during the war, and old habits died hard. He still slept with his wand under his pillow, and wards on his door.

A knock on the very door he was thinking about startled him out of his mindless morning routine. He glared at it again; who the hell was knocking on his door this early? He didn’t even know anyone. He strode to the door, yanking it open whilst removing the wards at the same time, only to come face to face with Draco Malfoy. Who not only looked impeccable, despite the early hour, but also had an expression on his face that Harry had never seen him direct at Harry before. He was smiling.

“Malfoy?” Harry said incredulously.

“It’s Draco, actually. I think fighting a war together puts us on first name terms, don’t you?” His voice, Harry was pleased to hear, held a slight tremor. It seemed Draco Malfoy was not as completely at ease with this situation as he tried to appear.

“I – I guess so,” Harry agreed reluctantly. Now he thought about it, it did seem quite strange to be so formal to the man he had fought beside, and who had seen him cry, first when Ron fell, then after killing Voldemort, when Neville had died at his side in the Last Battle.

“Great. Our first class is in ten minutes. Do you want me to wait for you?” Malfoy – Draco – said warily.

“No, I can make it there myself,” Harry replied politely. He regretted his words twenty minutes later when he was rushing around empty corridors, looking for Room 106 in a panic. When he found it, he burst in straight away. Unfortunately for him, everyone in there was completely silent, and all the unfamiliar faces turned to his, most with a look of shock or disapproval. Only two stood out, that of Draco Malfoy in the highest row, who was smirking at Harry and his dishevelled appearance, and Luna Lovegood in the second row, who smiled lazily at him, twirling her blonde hair in her fingers absentmindedly.

“Ah, the elusive Mr Potter, I presume?” Their lecturer was a round, smiling man who seemed fairly amiable. Or so Harry thought. “Take a seat, Mr Potter. There’s one next to Mr Malfoy, there.” Of course it would be next to Malfoy, Harry reflected cynically.

“Mr Potter, may I ask why you are late?”

“I got lost,” Harry said. “Um, Professor,” he added as the man raised an eyebrow. Inwardly, Harry was surprised. He had expected to be treated as more of an equal than the teachers at Hogwarts had treated him.

“You were given a map, were you not?” The Professor fixed him with an evil stare, and Harry nodded.

“I lost it, Professor.” Harry seethed inwardly. The man was humiliating him on the very first day.

“Mr Potter, what if this had been a raid, and you had lost your map? You would be a liability to yourself and others. An Auror should never be a liability.”

Harry stayed silent, unsure of what to say and feeling thoroughly embarrassed. The man’s face softened slightly. “But you are not an Auror, not yet, and that is why you are here. Welcome, Mr Potter. I am Professor Frode.” Harry returned his small smile, slightly confused. “You missed me telling the class how important it is that potential Aurors learn to defer to a leader, and learn humility. You are my unfortunate example. You will stay behind after today’s classes for one hour as punishment for your tardiness.”

Harry blinked furiously as the man went on to talk about their first lesson. Somehow he didn’t think he was going to like Auror training much… He stopped getting distracted, and tuned back into his teacher’s words. If he had to stay for an hour for being ten minutes late, who knew what the man would do if Harry weren’t paying attention?

“One of the most important things in becoming an Auror is learning to trust your partner. You will need to work together diligently, or you endanger the raid’s success. Our first exercise today will work on building that trust between you.” Harry continued to listen as Professor Frode explained how they would get in pairs, one standing behind the other. The one in front would fall backwards, relying on their partner to catch them. The men in the class were looking carefully unconcerned. The women looked rather more worried.

“Lovegood, partner with Spencer. Woods with King. Potter with…ah, Potter you work with Malfoy.” Professor Frode smiled happily at the pair, before moving on to the rest of the class, leaving Harry and Draco standing awkwardly.

“So…you want to go first?” Harry offered, standing behind Malfoy – Draco – who looked rather nervous before unwillingly agreeing. Harry positioned himself behind the other man, who stiffened up slightly, before falling gracefully back into Harry’s arms. Harry was caught up with the warm heavy feeling of Draco in his arms, and was startled when Professor Frode called over encouragement to them.

“Good, Draco, good. Try to relax completely next time, you were a little tense. Don’t worry, Potter will catch you, won’t you, Mr Potter?” Draco glared at the man’s back, wriggling slightly in Harry’s grasp and regaining his balance. Harry let go rather reluctantly, to his great surprise. Draco felt so very comfortable in his arms. This time Draco fell quickly, without giving Harry any warning, and Harry only just caught him in time.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it Malfoy?” Harry spoke into the man’s ear, blonde hair tickling the corner of his lip teasingly, and felt a small tremor run through Draco’s body.

“It’s Draco,” he murmured. They stayed like that for a moment more, ignoring the noise around them, then Professor Frode interrupted their reverie. They sprang apart, Draco with a slight tinge of pink around his ears that Harry didn’t notice, but the professor did.

“Okay, let’s see you try it the other way now,” he said shrewdly.

Harry swallowed hard. It was always difficult for him to put his trust in people. Until this day only five people had ever commanded his trust completely; Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Sirius. It had been a major weakness during the war, if you didn’t rely on the rest of your team, then you had to keep part of your attention on defending every side, instead of just the area you had to.

“Mr Potter?” Professor Frode said patiently. Draco looked slightly annoyed at Harry’s clear apprehension.

Harry swallowed again, and stood with his back to Draco. Even that small action caused shivers of tension to run down his spine. He had learnt to never turn his back on anyone during the war, no matter how well you thought you could trust him or her. Knowing the war was over, and most of the Death Eaters rounded up, didn’t help his anxiety. Like he’d thought earlier, old habits died hard.

He took a deep breath, and willed his body to relax, falling backwards. But he lost his nerve, and pulled back, tensing his body and stumbling away from Draco’s ready arms.

“Potter!” Now Draco sounded more normal, his scathing and indignant tone oddly reassuring. It made it easier to keep hating him.

“Try it again, Mr Potter,” the professor said thoughtfully, staring at him oddly. Harry waited until his face was turned away before glaring. He steeled himself again, and let himself fall slowly, carefully – No. He couldn’t do it. Harry found himself standing again, close to Draco after having stumbled whilst trying to regain his balance.

“Harry,” Draco – Malfoy – said slowly. “You can trust me to catch you, you stupid prat. Just trust me.” Harry turned round, ignoring the flare of shock that ignited inside him at Draco’s close proximity to him.

“I can’t trust anyone, Malfoy,” Harry hissed in his face. “Didn’t you learn that in the war?”

“Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you, Potter,” Draco snapped, his face inching closer still. “We’re not in a war any more.” Harry was struck dumb, partly by what he had said, but also – although he hated to admit it – partly because of Draco’s grey eyes, which were so close to Harry’s that he could see every flicker of anger and concern, and even hurt, that appeared in their cool depths.

Draco turned away abruptly and Harry shook himself inwardly. What was the matter with him? He couldn’t afford to be getting distracted like that; it might be the difference between survival and a nasty death.

“That’s enough for now, I think,” Professor Frode said hurriedly, as if noticing Harry’s angry look, and Draco’s steadily indifferent one.

The class gathered together, and started on some written notes, but Harry wasn’t paying much attention. All he could think about was Draco’s comment. Harry knew the war was over, he wasn’t stupid. But it didn’t hurt to keep a watchful eye out.

The rest of the lesson passed without any events of further interest, but Harry recognised what he would learn in the Academy would be invaluable to him in a fight, and if he were paying attention, would also fascinate him. When they were dismissed, Harry hurried down the steps of the aisles, studiously looking away from Draco. He didn’t quite know what to say to him yet.

“Potter. A word, please.” Professor Frode was looking at Harry seriously. They waited as all the others filed out, and Harry couldn’t help but notice Draco’s odd stare in his direction. But before he could work it out, the professor was speaking again. “Is everything quite alright, Mr Potter? You seemed to find our trust exercise quite difficult. I would have thought you of all people would know how important trust is in a war.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s why I don’t trust anyone easily! The war taught me that much, Professor.” The man looked carefully at him over the top of his round-rimmed glasses.

“Mr Potter, Aurors depend on their partners to watch their back and carry out their part of a mission correctly. If you can’t do that, you’re a liability to yourself, if not to others. It’s admirable, but it’s also foolish. I suggest you think over my words.” Harry realised with surprise that he was being dismissed, and nodded a goodbye at the professor. He started to leave, when the lecturer spoke again. “By the way, Mr Potter, don’t worry about your punishment. But next time you’re late, I will not hesitate to punish you properly.” Harry left the room deep in thought, not noticing that Draco Malfoy was standing, watching him do so…

A knock on his door after his last lesson roused Harry from a half-doze, and he groaned. The first day had been difficult, and all he wanted to do was rest for a while, and then get on with the report on the strategies used in the final battle of the war that he had due in two days. He flung open the door, ready to send off his visitor with a harsh word or two to help them on their way. It was Draco Malfoy.

“Harry,” The man said carefully. Harry nodded, acknowledging his presence but no more. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier. Well, no, I’m not sorry for what I said, because it was true, but I’m sorry I made you angry - ”

Harry cut him off. “It’s fine. You – you were right. Professor Frode kept me back after to tell me I need to trust people more, but… I don’t know if I can.” Part of him felt good about talking about his feelings, the other part of him was still screaming at him not to trust Draco, not to trust anyone.

“Harry, not everyone is going to betray your trust. We’re not asking you to trust everyone, just a few people. All you need to do is find those that are worthy of your trust,” Draco told him patiently.

“I - ” Harry broke off when he saw Draco’s face getting closer and closer to his own. “I…” He stopped again. Draco’s grey eyes were making it very hard to think. “I – Who – How do I know who I can trust?” He finally managed to get a complete sentence out, but immediately regretted it when Draco pulled back, pursing his lips as he considered Harry’s question.

“I don’t know. I guess you just…make a judgement and hope it’s right.” Harry thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him when he saw Draco leaning forward again, so slowly it was almost impossible to discern the movement.

“Why should I risk it?” Harry murmured quietly. His mouth was very close to Draco’s now, too close for comfort, but strangely Harry was partly enjoying the small shivers that came with the invading of his personal space by Draco. The rest of him was terrified, and his instinct was to pull back, that he couldn’t trust Draco. But Harry stayed where he was. He had to learn how to trust people.

“Because otherwise.” And here Draco put a hand up between them, just millimetres away from Harry’s chest. “You’ll never know what this feels like again.” And with that, one or the other of them closed the gap between them until their lips were touching, but barely. Harry was horribly nervous. He had kissed people before, although never a man, but never had he felt this electricity running through him, never had he felt this need for someone else. He was unsure what to do – this was Draco Malfoy, for God’s sake – but fortunately Draco made the decision for him. He pushed his lips against Harry’s in a ferocious and passionate kiss that felt like it was stripping both of them of all their pretences and their facades, until all that was left was simply Harry and Draco.

Harry had never felt so vulnerable and exposed, his hands tangled in Draco’s hair, and Draco’s curled against his neck and waist. Was this what trusting someone felt like? This blind impulse to open yourself to them, and know that they would accept you, all of you, and all that came with it? Harry didn’t know, but the electricity was pulsing more strongly between the pair now and he soon stopped thinking altogether, surrendering to Draco’s warm kiss.

Draco smiled into Harry’s open mouth, moving the hand around Harry’s neck up to muss his soft dark hair. They were locked tightly together in an embrace, Harry holding Draco’s face firmly with both hands, and Draco with an arm locked around his waist and a fist clenched in his tousled hair. Still they kissed, each of their mouths moving over the other’s in a desperate kiss that they both had wanted since the first moment they saw each other outside the Academy, but neither of them had realised. Draco pulled away from Harry’s mouth, the other letting out a noise of disappointment.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, his face pushed against the man’s neck. Harry shivered; his thoughts were rushing wildly again. What would everyone saw if they knew? What would the world say if their saviour was gay? What would Hermione say if she knew what Harry had been doing with Draco? He stiffened and pulled away from Draco, who jumped in surprise.

“Harry?” His tone was concerned, and Harry couldn’t bear it. It was wrong, it shouldn’t have happened, he shouldn’t be sounding so concerned. Harry disentangled himself, and literally shoved Draco out of the door, who was too shocked to fight back. But before he shut the door, Harry took a look at Draco’s face. A huge mistake. Those eyes were staring at him, hurt and bewildered; yet still holding a dazed look caused by their kiss. “Harry…” Draco spoke his name in a wounded tone, and Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He slammed the door in Draco’s face, hating himself for both what he had done, and for causing the hurt look that had appeared on Draco’s face. But couldn’t Draco see that it was wrong? Harry had nothing against same-sex couples, but many people did. How would the world react if they knew what Harry had just done? People still lived in fear of the remaining Death Eaters, and because of the fact that they had thought Voldemort was dead once before. Harry personified their hope.

Whilst Harry continued to live as they believed he should, they still had faith in his deed, and that Voldemort was truly dead. But Harry knew how people like that thought. The moment he did something that challenged their misguided view of him as an infallible hero; they would lose all faith in him completely. Becoming an open homosexual would definitely constitute as something the public would find objectionable.

Not to mention the fact that most people disapproved of homosexuality in anyone famous, let alone the saviour of the wizarding world. Harry stopped that line of thought quickly. He had kissed one man, and he was calling himself gay already? It was ridiculous, he had just been stressed out and it had been a long while since there had been anyone romantically. But he had been wondering for a long time about his sexuality, it had just been pushed to the back of his mind as something he couldn’t – or wouldn’t - deal with at that time.

This wasn’t right. Draco was the son of a Death Eater; people still mistrusted him, despite his participation in the war. How would they react to him and Harry? And all Harry’s friends. They knew he and Draco hated each other still, they knew they could never be friends. Besides, what would they say about him being gay? How did he know they wouldn’t reject him because of it? And if they didn’t, they certainly would when they found out he had kissed Draco. He had certainly ruined everything this time.

Harry went to bed early that night, giving up on his report swiftly when Draco’s grey eyes wouldn’t leave his thoughts. What had made Harry’s feelings change so quickly towards him? Only this morning he had been cursing the fact Draco had chosen the same career as him, and now he was kissing him like their lives depended on it. But deep down, Harry knew this had been coming for a long time. He had always held a certain fascination for the blonde man, one of the few who didn’t think of him as the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione didn’t, but the difference was she still loved him and thought him a hero in his own right. Draco saw him for what he was, a normal man who had bluffed his way through the war with a lot of luck, a good instinct, and impressive duelling skills. Perhaps that was why Harry found him so intriguing.

Harry shouldn’t be feeling like this, he didn’t even want to be gay. How could he start anything with Draco when he was still coming to terms with his sexuality? Holding these thoughts firmly in his mind, he lay down, burying his head in the pillows on his bed. When he lifted his head again, it was morning.

Harry only had one class with Draco, Practical Defence with Professor Frode, his last class of the day. He wasn’t looking forward to it. He would have to hope he didn’t see Draco until then. He wouldn’t have a clue what to say to him. He went about his business quietly all day, studiously looking away from any blonde hair that he caught a glimpse of out of the corner of his eyes. If Draco was looking for him, he didn’t know about it, and he didn’t see him for definite all day.

But then it was time for the lesson he had been dreading all day. Practical Defence, and with it, Draco Malfoy. Harry made sure he got there early to make up for the day before and entered somewhat warily, not quite knowing what to expect. What he did get was an exaggerated greeting from Professor Frode.

“Potter! I was just wondering if you’d find your way here alright, wasn’t I, Mr Malfoy?” Harry blushed on the outside, but was cringing inside at the mention of Draco, and the shock that ran down his spine when he saw the man himself, an unreadable look on his angled face.

“Yes, Professor,” Draco agreed pleasantly, barely giving Harry a look. If Harry didn’t know better, he would have thought that last night had been a dream from the way Draco was acting. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

“Same seats as yesterday, you two,” Professor Frode told them, ushering them towards the seats as some of the other students began to trickle in. Harry winced. He would have to spend the whole lesson next to Draco.

“So, Potter,” Draco started, when they were sat down. The room was nearly full now, but there were still a few students not there yet. Harry glanced at Draco awkwardly, wondering what he was going to say. His palms were slightly sweaty with nerves, and he hoped his voice wouldn’t betray the whirlwind of feelings within him.

“Malf – Draco?” he queried when Draco said nothing else, mentally slapping a hand over his own mouth. When would he learn to leave well alone? Draco gave him a scrutinising look, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“Look, Harry - ” Draco started to talk in a strangely serious voice, but was cut off by Professor Frode. Harry cursed the man’s bad timing; he was dying to know what Draco was going to say to him in such a voice.

“Hello again, class. We’re going to start with that trust exercise again today. If you mastered it okay yesterday, swap partners and try it again with someone else, but if not, same partners.” The round man beamed at them. Harry was really starting to hate him.

“Well, Potter?” Draco said quietly, looking at him with a deep look Harry couldn’t interpret. He swallowed. His palms were really sweaty now, and he tried surreptitiously to wipe them on his trousers.

“Do you – do you want to go first?” His voice was more gravelly than normal, and he coughed to clear his throat. Draco nodded, but said nothing.

Harry stood behind him, ready to catch him, but when Draco fell back into his arms, it awoke a series of memories that caught him by surprise. He could almost feel Draco’s mouth moving carefully over his, one hand in Harry’s hair, another rubbing the skin at his waist. He blinked his way back to reality as Draco spoke in a waspish voice.

“Much as I love being in your arms, Potter, I think it’s your turn,” he said dryly, and Harry flushed.

This was the moment he was dreading. Having to let go of all his doubts and fall back into someone else’s arms, blindly trusting him. Draco took up his position behind his back, and he twitched nervously.

“Potter?” Draco sounded exasperated. “What is it that makes you so unable to trust me?” His voice raised an octave, and Harry started to turn around. Draco’s hiss stopped him, and he stood awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“Merlin’s sake, Harry.” Draco sighed, but sounded more rational now. “Harry, please. Just trust me. I’m not going to let you fall.” His voice was gentle, almost like the tone used to coax a nervous animal to you.

Harry still hesitated. It had been so long. He’d got used to relying on himself, why should he risk trusting other people? But Draco’s words from yesterday haunted him, ringing again and again in his ears.

“Just make a judgement and hope it’s right…Because otherwise you’ll never know what this feels like again…”

Harry blinked. Draco was right. They weren’t in a war anymore. Did he want to go on like this forever, never feeling what he had done when he had kissed Draco? He wanted to feel that again, maybe even enough to risk making a judgement. All he had to do was hope it was right.

And with that, he let himself fall backwards and blind, into Draco’s arms, hearing as if from a long way away Draco’s request for Harry to trust him. And then it was over, and he wasn’t falling any more, and Draco was holding him, gently, so gently. He pressed his face into Harry’s hair, both of them forgetting they were in a class.

“You did it.” His muffled voice sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” Harry said eloquently, and then tried to make a better effort at explaining himself. “You were right, you know.” He couldn’t think how else to explain it, but he felt Draco smile into the back of his head, and he knew he understood. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could happen, and whether I could trust you or not - ”

His rambling was cut off when Draco pulled him around so they were face to face. “You think too much, Harry,” he told Harry firmly.

He said something else too, but Harry was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate when Draco’s face was so close he could see every speck of blue and grey in those serious eyes. His gaze flickered down to where Draco’s lips were moving and Harry couldn’t fight it any more. He placed a finger over Draco’s mouth, and watched with satisfaction as his eyes went wide with shock and he went silent. Who cared what everyone would say about this? Harry had spent long enough worrying about doing what was best for everyone, now he was doing what was best for him.

“If I think too much, then you talk too much,” Harry said, and pulled Draco even closer, until their lips met gently and their bodies curled into each other, and the kiss was everything Harry had ever wanted, and more. It had definitely been worth the risk.


A/N: A note of interest for you guys; the name Frode actually means 'learned' or 'wise', so I named him that because he's a teacher. Hope you enjoyed the fic!
 
 

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