Disclaimer: Nothing in this story belongs to me. All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. I have taken liberties with her characters and creations. No copyright infringement is intended and this is not for any profit whatsoever.

A/N: So, I almost didn't write this. Due to an annoying string of events, my laptop chord broke earlier this week. I was going to wait until I got a new chaord but, I decided that since I had my sister's laptop and was going to have to be awake all night that I would give this a go. I apologize for the fact that it's mostly just talking and filler and very little time inside Harry's head, but I feel like this chapter had to be written to go on with the rest of the story. That's right, I said it, the rest of the story. I don't know when the next chapter will come, so I'll make no promises, but it will come. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I give to you Mr. Big Stuff: Golden Comfort

Harry paced in front of his bed, trying to make his brain stop working; trying to make it stop shouting at him. He had left Hogsmeade separate from Ron and Hermione, and he still hadn't seen them, despite the fact that he had been back for two hours. That was just fine with Harry. He had been lying on his bed for those two hours, replaying all the years that had passed at Hogwarts in his head. Still, nowhere in all those years could he find an explanation for what had happened between him and Draco today. He flopped down on his bed face first. He heard footsteps in the room and looked up in time to see Ron try and fail to sneak past him.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?!" Harry asked accusingly.

"I'm sorry, mate. Hermione and I-," Ron began.

"What happened to 'Malfoy won't get his grubby little hands on you'? What were you two thinking?! And where did you go?" Harry grabbed Ron's arm. "Come on. You're taking me to Hermione. We're going to sit down and talk about this right now."

Into the commons they walked, and Hermione was pacing in front of one of the fireplaces, biting her nails. "I told you that you couldn't sneak by him," she said as they entered the room.

"I thought for sure he would be sleeping," Ron said, shuffling his feet and looking down at the tips of his shoes.

"Well, obviously he wasn't," Hermione said, quietly.

"Sit down Hermione," Harry said through gritted teeth. Hermione sat at once. She had never seen Harry so angry. "You too Ron." Ron joined Hermione on the couch. "Where the hell did you two go? You left me completely in the open without even a word of warning. You better be about to tell me that you were abducted by Hagrid for some secret mission that I'm not supposed to know about or I am going to turn into the biggest asshole you have ever seen!"

"Well," Hermione piped in, "we went to go get another round of butterbeer."

"Like hell you did!" Harry yelled, drawing attention from the few people who were in the common room.

"She was saying," Ron said, still looking at the tips of his shoes, "that we went to get butterbeer and then got a little distracted."

"Distracted…? DISTRACTED?"

"Harry, stop shouting. You've cleared everyone out of the common room and you are scaring me," Hermione whispered.

Harry took a look around and found that he had, indeed, cleared out the common room. The three or four curious faces that had dotted the room before were now nowhere to be found. They had apparently decided that it wasn't interesting enough to risk Harry's wrath. Harry sat down on a chair behind him and put his hands in his head. A brand new headache was developing. "Just tell me what happened," he muttered.

"Ron and I were at the counter waiting for the butterbeers when we heard giggling behind us. We turned around to see some silly first years. One of them had decided it would be cute to charm a bit of mistletoe above us. Never to be one to back down from a challenge I turned to Ron and matter-of-factly kissed him square on the lips. I wasn't exactly expecting him to kiss me back. And neither of us was expecting to like it…"

"You're telling me that you left me open and exposed for a damned snogging session?" Harry asked, looking up from his hands with angry green eyes.

"Not exactly," Ron answered. "The snogging got a little…well…out of hand. Before either of us knew what was happening, we were in one of the rooms doing a little more than snogging. I honestly don't know how we made it all that way without ever parting lips, but we did and what came after was amazing."

"That's right it was," Hermione said, looking at Ron. They smiled lustily at each other.

"Can you two turn it of for 2 minutes please? You know, I agreed with Hermione when she said you needed to shag a girl, but I didn't know she had herself in mind. Do you realize what happened while the two of you were close and cozy in a room knocking boots?"

"Did Malfoy come in?" Harry nodded. "Oh Harry. I-no we are so sorry," Hermione said, moving to crouch next to the chair Harry was sitting on. "What did that little git do to you?"

"Nothing unpleasant," Harry said, feeling the small smirk that played across his lips.

"What does that mean?" Ron asked.

"It means…it means that I think I may be…that I may have…positive feelings for Draco."

"Come again," Hermione said, standing up and looking down at him with the most incredulous expression she had ever summoned.

"Well, while you two off in some silly room banging, Malfoy and I were…I feel the correct phrase to use would be…making love."

"You were what?" Ron exclaiming, his voice raising a few octaves towards the end of the phrase.

"I know," Harry said, shaking his head. "He even had the shack decorated nicely. He said it was just for us.

"That dirty, rotten, slobbering git. He probably taped it somehow Harry. He's probably going to show it to the whole school. Or worse, use it to blackmail you."

"He called me Harry."

"Or perhaps even-what was that now?"

"He called me Harry. I was honestly beginning to believe he didn't know my first name. He's never called me only Harry. Potter usually. Sometimes Harry Potter. But never just Harry."

Maybe you should tell us what happened," Hermione said.

"After you left, he appeared behind me. Apparently he stole my invisibility cloak at Hagrid's cottage the other night. He told me I should come with him to the shrieking shack, and so I did. When we got there, he had done the whole place up in green and red. And then he started in on this whole speech about him and me. And…well I made the first move."

"You did what?" Ron asked. Imitating himself from only a minute ago.

"I know that it sounds insane, but I had to know. I had to know if he was right. And you know what? He was. He was spot on. And it's not just about sex. I thought it would be, but it isn't. Afterward, I laid on his chest and felt like I was home for the first time in a long time."

"Harry you have a home," Hermione said.

"No. That's Ron's home. It's not mine. I don't have a home. I've never felt like I had one anyway, not until today."

"Are you sure he didn't use a potion on you?"

"Would I be this way if he had? I'm confused and stressed and I feel a little sick, and I can't decide whether I wish this had never happened or I wish it would happen again. And you know what? For the whole time we were there, he didn't say a single rude word to me. Not a single one. What am I supposed to make of that after all these years?"

"What do you want to make of it Harry?" Hermione asked him.

"I don't know. I want it to mean that I've finally passed all the bullshit and I'm seeing the real Draco, but I can't trust it. I can't trust him in general. There's too much history to pretend it doesn't exist."

"Perhaps Harry," Ron said. "But perhaps…I can't believe I'm about to say this. Perhaps you and Malfoy need to sit down and talk about this all. What happened after you made…love," Ron asked, doing a very bad job of hiding the disgust on his face.

"We just laid there together. Eventually we both realized we would have to leave soon, so we got up, got dressed without a word and left. He looked at me as I was going and I would swear I saw sadness in his eye, but I was probably only imagining things."

"You two need to talk," Hermione said, standing up.

"Where? How? I can't just walk into the Slytherin common room and demand to speak to him, now can I? And I certainly can't talk to him at a meal. There's just too much bad blood there. People will become suspicious."

"I have an idea," Ron said. He turned to one of the paintings on the wall and whispered quietly to it. "He's going to find Malfoy for you. Go to the room of requirement and wait for him there."

"You really are brilliant," Hermione said, smiling at Ron.

"You're pretty brilliant yourself," Ron answered, turning towards Hermione and speaking in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"We can be brilliant together," Hermione answered him, mimicking his tone.

"Oh bloody hell," Harry moaned, and left for the room of requirement.

"Potter," Harry turned around to find Draco standing just inside the room of requirement, smirking in a way Harry had come to know and loathe.

"Draco?"

"One of the paintings in my room told me you wanted me to meet here. Well, what is it?"

"Is this where we are again Draco? Back to this tired game?"

"I don't know Potter, you tell me."

"Stop calling me Potter. I never want to go back to that. Call me Harry, please? Please just don't call me Potter anymore. The way you said it before…it was… I've never heard anyone say my name that way. With that particular mixture of longing and sadness and care."

Draco took the few steps to where Harry was sitting on a blanket and sat in front of him. He heaved a tired sigh and laid down on the blanket. "I don't want to call you Harry."

Harry laid down next to him. "Why not?"

"Look Potter. If we…if we do this, there's no telling what could happen. Everything would change for us, but most importantly, for you. You're the golden boy. The chosen one. Everyone around here looks to you for all that's good and pure. What will you be if you're seen with me?"

"I could say the same for you. You're the bad boy. The guy no one's to mess with. What will you look like if we're seen together all the time?"

"It's much harder to go from being the chosen one to the hated one than it is to go from the hated one to the more hated one. I'm accustomed to being disliked. I've come to live with it, but it's not an easy life. You don't know how hard it is until you live it. Are you willing to risk being hated for something that may well be lust?"

"I think we both know that it's not just lust Draco. I think we both felt what it's like to be in the arms of someone you never want to be away from again."

"And what if I told you I didn't?"

"I wouldn't believe you."

"What do I care Potter? You're just-," Harry kissed him then. A tender, soft, passionate kiss that made Malfoy feel at home for the first time in his life. When the kiss was over he breathed a sigh of relief. He had come with the intention of making Harry turn away from him and never look again, but he hadn't realized how afraid he was that Harry would do just that until Harry had turned the opportunity down. "You shouldn't interrupt people like that Potter."

"Odd," Harry said.

"What's odd?"

"You said Potter just like you said Harry. I've never heard you say it that way."

"Well, Harry, I've never wanted to say it that way as badly as I've wanted to over these past few days."

"I've never wanted to hear it as much," Harry admitted. He moved over to lay on Draco's chest again, his new favorite place in the world. As he lay there he realized that their breathing had synchronized and that Draco's heart was beating fiercely. "You're scared," Harry said, closing his eyes and listening to the somehow calming heartbeat.

"For you," Draco answered. "What will you become on the arm of Draco Malfoy?"

"The happiest chosen one ever to be chosen?"

Draco laughed quietly and wrapped his arms around Harry. "I hope so," he said into Harry's hair. "I certainly hope so."