So sorry for leaving you guys hanging for a week! I hope this chapter (somewhat) makes up for it.

Meanwhile, in Harry's room, Draco had just opened his eyes.

Draco opened his eyes to searing pain, sunlight lancing through a crack in the curtains. Everything was an agonizing, blinding white, and Draco worried for a panicked instant that the sun really was frying his eyes. He scrabbled blindly, trying to get away from the light, and smacked the other body lying next to him.

"Ow! What was that for?"

The other person sounded disturbingly like Harry Potter. Draco whimpered. Now he was having delusions, as well as blind.

"Draco?" the delusion asked, managing a convincing attempt at worry. Draco whimpered again. There was movement, then, muttered cursing and fumbling, and then the blinding light went away. Unfortunately, Draco's head still throbbed, but at least his eyes were no longer in danger of burning.

Draco cracked one eye carefully open.

The first thing Draco saw was green. Green so brilliant and full of light that it was nearly blinding. Green like silent forest pools and bottomless oceans. Green like Potter's eyes, only more intense.

Draco blinked, and realized that it wasn't "like" Potter's eyes – it was Potter's eyes, more intense than usual because the thick lenses that normally obscured them were missing. And because Draco had never seen them this close before. Then, Potter blinked, shuttering his stunning eyes, and Draco felt himself released from their spell. He shoved violently away - or, tried to. Instead of moving, he found himself stuck fast, held in place by Harry's arm and leg, thrown carelessly over him while he slept.

Potter pinned him with his gaze once more. "Going somewhere?"

Great. Now the delusions were visible as well as audible. Draco whimpered again.

The Potter-delusion rolled its eyes. Draco thought that his brain, if it insisted on plaguing him with these Potter-delusions, ought at least to make them as miserable as Draco currently was.

Draco snapped his fingers. He would ask one of the house-elves to bring him a headache potion. And one of Father's extra-strength calming draughts – the ones he thought Draco and Mother didn't know about. That ought to deal with the pesky Potter-delusion, which was most likely brought on by stress.

The familiar crack of house-elf apparition relaxed Draco slightly. He turned to the elf. "Nobby, bing me a headache potion. Also a – "

He stopped, staring. He blinked. Blinked again. "You're not Nobby," he said accusingly.

The ancient, disgruntled-looking house-elf looked down its nose at him. "I is not being Nobby, young Master Malfoy, and I is not bringing you a headache potion – "

The Potter-delusion interrupted the house-elf. "Kreacher. Please bring Draco and I some of Luna and Sev's new hangover potion."

Kreacher glared for a moment, then relented. "Mistress Luna is having the headache potion prepared for Master Harry and Master Draco already. Kreacher is bringing the potion now." He disapparated with a crack that was still reverberating around the inside of Draco's skull when the house-elf returned, a glass of faintly steaming hazard-orange liquid in each hand.

"Thank you, Kreacher," said the disturbingly calm and polite Potter-delusion, as he took the glasses. He drained the contents of the first glass in one go, grimacing as he did so, and then handed the other glass to Draco.

"It's best to drink it as fast as you can, just in case Luna's decided to try a bizarre new flavor combination. I really don't know why Sev allows her to help him brew, but they both seem to enjoy it, so I suppose I can't complain." The color was returning to his cheeks, and his expression was growing alarmingly cheerful. "Go on, drink up."

Draco eyed his glass dubiously. He certainly didn't want to drink it, especially if it tasted as foul as it smelled. On the other hand, the Potter-delusion was looking better by the second, and Draco didn't think he could handle that much cheerfulness, feeling as he did. Trying not to think too hard about what he was doing – not terribly difficult, when his brain felt like it was moving at a pace even a snail would balk at – he drank it down as quickly as possible.

Draco instantly felt the fog in his mind begin to clear, and he sighed in relief as the relentless pounding at his temples eased. He licked his lips experimentally, frowning as he concentrated on the complex combination of flavors. It wasn't bad, exactly, he decided. Just... odd. Then he recalled the Potter-delusion's words and blanched as he realized that he'd willingly drunk something concocted by Severus Snape (who he was almost certain was dead), and Luna Lovegood (who he was absolutely certain was a few carrots short of a bunch). He blanched still further when he realized that the Potter-delusion wasn't a delusion at all, and that he was in bed with Harry Potter, who had a very intense look on his face as he watched Draco's mouth. Draco realized that he'd been unconsciously licking his lower lip, trying to separate out the complex flavors in the hangover potion residue that lingered there, and blushed.

Harry tore his eyes away from Draco's lip and studied him for a moment. Draco felt tiny under that penetrating gaze – a spark being studied by a sun. He wondered how the Weaselette – Ginny, he reminded himself, now that he was on a first-name basis with the Weasleys – how Ginny had stood it, being the focus of that intensity, as she must often have been, as the girlfriend of the Chosen One.

Then he remembered that he was the reason she wasn't Harry's girlfriend any longer – though whether she had ever ben Harry's girlfriend, and not the Chosen One's girlfriend, he couldn't say. Nor could he say why the thought bothered him more than he cared to think about. He wondered, suddenly, exactly what she had meant, when she said "if you drop me for Malfoy, again."

It was the "again" that bothered him most. Had Harry chosen him before, and he'd been too dense, or too wrapped up in important Death Eater business, to notice?

Snatches of the day before came back to him, then, and he recalled the Weasel – Ron – saying "It's like sixth year all over again," Luna adding "he's always been like this about Malfoy," and most of all Harry's hand, warm and solid in his own. He swallowed. He suddenly had a very good idea what Ginny meant.

"Draco?"

Harry peered at him questioningly, a shock of dark hair falling roguishly over his piercing green eyes – so much more intense without those glasses – as he leaned closer, studying him.

Draco realized he'd been so focused inward, he'd lost track of what Harry was saying. "What?"

Harry frowned. "How much did you drink last night?"

Draco winced, remembering. "Too much. Far too much. I don't normally drink more than a bit of wine. Alcohol doesn't agree with me."

Harry nodded sagely. "That would seem to be a bit of an understatement." He frowned. "Do you trust me enough to let me cast a sobriety charm on you?"

Draco shuddered. Sobriety charms were quite possibly worse than the hangover itself.

Harry laughed. "Not like that. Hermione's modified one that works much better without the unpleasant side effects." He grinned conspiratorially. "She says the original was invented by one of the founders of a muggle temperance society, and so had reason to make it as unpleasant as possible."

Draco stared at him. "That's just... wow. Wait – how does she know?"

Harry shrugged. "It's Hermione. She read it in a book, of course. She was working on an improved version because she said she spends far too much time with people who are perpetually either drinking or recovering from drinking, and it was really an act of self-preservation. I think she also got tired of Ron using a hangover as an excuse to get out of his chores, since she's the one who usually ends up doing them."

Draco shook his head, deciding not to mention the house-elf.

"You don't trust me?" Harry sounded sad, and Draco, alarmed at how much that bothered him, quickly replayed the past few minutes' conversation in his head.

"Oh, no. I was thinking about something else," he said quickly. "I mean, yeah, I trust you. Go ahead." He cursed himself for the happiness that flared up when Harry smiled. Draco steeled himself, concentrating on not flinching when Harry pointed his wand at Draco's head. Then Harry muttered under his breath, waving the wand in a complex series of loops, and Draco felt the rest of the fog lift from his brain. He grinned.

"Merlin, that's some sobriety charm! I think I may have to kiss Hermione now."

Harry looked so crestfallen that Draco had trouble maintaining a straight face. "On the other hand," he said thoughtfully, "she's not here, and you are. Hmm." He looked Harry up and down exaggeratedly. "Yes... I suppose you'll do."

Harry only had time to gape at him before Draco, hurrying, before he lost his nerve, leaned in and kissed him.

For one terrifying instant he was afraid Harry wouldn't respond, that he'd made a horrible mistake, that Harry didn't actually want him that way, no matter what the others said, and he would have to be quick to obliviate Harry before he could turn on him...

And then Harry was kissing him back, and Draco's world narrowed to the kiss, and the man – Harry Potter, who wasn't a delusion at all – kissing him back.

When they finally made their way into the kitchen, shyly holding hands, it was to discover their friends engaged in a lively, and not entirely friendly, debate.

"Harry!" Ron wailed, as Luna brought them heaping plates of food, "Lucius is trying to make us go shopping."

Harry nodded his thanks to Luna. "Well," he said, around a bite of bacon, "I did promise to take the Malfoys to Diagon Alley today to get whatever they need."

Ron dropped his head to the table with a resounding thunk.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, Ron!"

Draco snorted, wondering what madness had claimed him, as he already found the chaotic kitchen more homey than the ornate-but-austere dining room at the manor could ever be.

Harry caught his eye and grinned. "You don't have to come with us, Ron," he said gently, failing to hide a smile. "I have to go, since the Malfoys can't leave the house without me – yet – but you don't have to."

Ron perked up. Hermione rolled her eyes and cuffed him lightly. "Idiot," she said fondly.

"Well, I'm coming," Luna said. "I need to get a few things for our potion." She glanced at Severus – very much alive, as Draco was pleased to note –who rolled his eyes.

"You are most certainly not going to buy potions ingredients without me, Miss Lovegood, or we're all liable to find ourselves in pieces. I'll just have to join you." He sighed a long-suffering, put-upon sigh.

Luna winked at Draco, and he nearly burst out laughing at how neatly she manipulated Severus. He had to cough, pretending to choke, to cover it.

"So," Harry said, shoving away his empty plate, "Diagon Alley, then?"

"So it would seem," drawled Severus.

"Give me a minute to grab my things!" Luna tossed over her shoulder, as she bounced up the stairs.

"All right," Harry announced. "Everyone going to Diagon Alley, meet in the entrance hall in ten minutes."

Under cover of the hubbub that swirled around them, as everyone rushed off to get ready, Draco saw Harry lean over to Hermione. "You're in charge here, yeah?"

She grinned. "Don't worry. I've got it all planned out. We're going to tackle that garden Luna and Sev have been lobbying for."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And if Ron objects?"

"Well, then he'll find himself having a little chat with Walburga about converting that room to a potions lab. We can't keep using the dining room."

Harry saluted her. "Excellent work, sarge. Ileave them in your capable hands." He pulled Draco to his feet. "Come on – Ineed to grab a few things, and we don't want to keep the others waiting."