Harry lay on his side and propped himself up on one elbow. This was one
of his favourite times of the day – no matter how late he went to bed, he
always woke just before sunrise and watched Draco sleeping next to him.
And today, just like every other day, he felt grateful that, on that night
– five years ago now – he'd seen a glimpse of who Draco really was and not
what was just for show.
Most people thought Draco was lucky that Harry had 'saved' him but Harry knew that it was he who was the lucky one. Draco had rescued him. From himself. From the world. From insanity.
Draco was his soul mate.
Harry flopped onto his back, his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. The last five years with Draco had been idyllic. Mostly. Not perfect, but pretty good.
But while Harry and Draco had been insulated in their own little world, Voldemort had been wreaking havoc on the rest of the wizarding community. Harry had been content to distance himself from the war, as long as Voldemort had left he and Draco alone. It was almost like an unspoken agreement between them; if Harry and Draco kept out of it, Voldemort left them alone.
Even when Hermione's parents had been killed last year, Harry had remained uninvolved. He'd been sad for Hermione, helped her with funeral arrangements, attended the funeral and generally been her supportive best friend, but he still hadn't joined in the war, much to Ron's annoyance.
He was beginning to wonder, however, if it was possible for him to stay out of it all. It was probably time for him to fight. But how was he going to do that whilst still protecting Draco? It was a problem for which he didn't yet have an answer.
Harry turned his head to the side. Draco looked almost ... angelic ... when he was asleep, his soft, blonde hair fanned over his pillow. Harry bit his lip. Draco went to sleep face down and practically didn't move all night. Draco slept like the dead.
Harry often wondered whether Draco could wake up on his own or whether, if Harry didn't wake him, he'd just keep sleeping forever. Sometimes, Harry watched Draco for a couple of hours before he woke him; sometimes it was only a few minutes. Usually, it was somewhere in between. Whatever, Draco was always mildly pissed off when Harry roused him. Harry didn't care, though. Although he never voiced his soppy thoughts, he missed Draco when he was asleep and woke him up as soon as the pang became unbearable.
Like now.
Harry looked over at Draco again and was taken aback, as he always was, by the golden hue of Draco's hair. A short while ago, the locks had been silvery; now they were gold. He supposed it was the difference between moonlight and sunlight – dark and light – or just the chameleon that was Draco Malfoy. Didn't matter. He was the man Harry loved with a passion he'd never known before. Hated and loved. Was there a difference? Sometimes Harry wasn't sure.
He lifted the hair from the back of Draco's neck and pressed his lips into the soft flesh. Draco grunted into his pillow and flicked his head slightly as if trying to dislodge a pesky fly. Harry grinned and moved over to Draco's side of the bed. He positioned himself above Draco and let his weight fall.
Harry heard a muffled "oomph" from Draco and Draco pushed his body up, rolling Harry off him. "Damn it, Harry!" Draco exclaimed, looking around briefly and then closing his eyes again. "It's still early. Let me go back to sleep." He buried his face in the pillow again.
Not for the first time, Harry wondered how Draco could breathe sleeping face down like that but Draco got annoyed at him whenever he asked so Harry just kept silent. Draco was definitely not a morning person.
Harry ran his hand gently over Draco's hair, trying to coax him into full consciousness. "But aren't you meeting your grandmother for breakfast?"
Draco twisted around and quickly sat up, running his hands over his face, trying to force the remnants of sleep from his foggy brain. "Fuck! I forgot." He scrambled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, turning the taps on in the shower. He let the water heat and went back to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of Harry's side of the be and leaned towards Harry, kissing him softly. "Morning."
Harry smiled as he watched Draco divest himself of his pyjamas and head back to the bathroom.
"Are you coming with me for breakfast?" Draco called as he stepped into the shower, the hot water sluicing over his body and washing away any last traces of sleep.
Harry followed Draco into the bathroom and perched on the edge of the bath. "I can't. It's Ron's birthday today, remember? I've got to take him out all day so Hermione can get his surprise party ready."
"Ah, yes," Draco said, not bothering to disguise his sarcasm. "Party – Gryffindor style. I can't wait!"
Harry frowned and stared at the shape behind the fogged up glass shower screen. "Draco, you'll -"
"Relax, Harry," Draco said as he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. "I promise I'll be good."
Harry leaned across and pulled a towel from the towel rail, handing it to Draco. As he watched Draco dry himself, Harry had a vision of himself tumbling Draco into bed and making love to him for hours. Harry shook his head to clear it. He knew how much Draco loved his family – especially his grandmother – and wasn't going to do anything to make him late.
He followed Draco back into the bedroom. "Will you bring some clothes to the party for me? I can shower and get changed at Ron's."
"Sure," Draco said. He grinned mischievously at Harry as he fastened his robes. "Tight black leather trousers and matching vest, studded belt -"
"I don't own any clothes like that!" Harry interrupted, appalled at the thought of it.
Draco laughed. "I could get you some, though," he said slyly. Seeing Harry's glare, he sighed. "All right, all right! I know. Something Gryffindorish. Something boring."
"Jeans and a shirt, Draco. That's it!" Harry was bordering on hysterical now. "Maybe I should just -"
"Harry, relax!" Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm to placate him. "I was only teasing. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. It'll be fine."
He turned away and looked into the mirror, self consciously adjusting his robes. He frowned as he peered at his reflection. "Do I look okay?" he asked Harry, a little nervously.
"Yeah," Harry replied, still a bit distracted.
Draco sighed impatiently and wriggled around inside his robes. "Are you sure? I haven't worn robes for a while and they feel a little ... strange."
"The last time was when we had dinner with your grandmother just last week," Harry laughed as he crossed the room and stood in front of Draco. He quickly adjusted the top clasp on Draco's robes. "You look fine." He ran his hands over Draco's shoulders and down his arms to smooth the flowing material. "You look gorgeous," he said softly and kissed Draco's lips gently, almost chastely. He smiled as he stepped back slightly. "You're such a drama queen," he teased.
Draco rolled his eyes. He raised his arms slightly and let them fall back to his sides. "All right, I'm going now. I'm already late."
Harry looked at his watch. "Only two minutes. If she makes a fuss, tell her your watch is slow."
Draco chuckled as he stepped back and lifted his wand from the dresser. "Have a good day with Ron. I'll see you tonight."
Harry waved as he watched Draco Disapparate.
Harry stepped out of the bathroom and started down the stairs. It was still early but already the party was in full swing. Typical of any Weasley gathering, really.
Harry felt refreshed following his shower and change of clothes. He'd needed it, too. As much as he loved Ron, after spending the whole day with him traipsing all around magical and Muggle London, Harry knew he wouldn't have made it through the party without a shower in between.
And, despite his teasing this morning, Draco had come through for him on the clothes front. Harry felt comfortable but also knew he looked good, dressed in the black jeans and dark green silk shirt Draco had picked out for him. Not that there was a lot of choice in his wardrobe anyway. Half (or more) of his wardrobe consisted of green. Green shirts, green jeans, green robes. Every year for his birthday, Mrs Weasley gave him some sort of green shirt and she still knitted him a green jumper each Christmas. Draco wasn't much better. Most of the clothes he bought for Harry were green, too.
As much as he was pleased to have his mother's eyes – a part of her – sometimes he wished he had his dad's black eyes so he could get some different colours in his wardrobe. Not that Harry really cared about clothes but his wardrobe basically consisted of black jeans, blue jeans, three quarters of green shirts, some white shirts, two red shirts and one orange shirt.
Harry was quite fond of the orange shirt. He'd bought it himself. One of the first articles of clothing he'd ever bought. And it wasn't green. Draco, though, refused to go out in public with him when he wore it so mostly it stayed in the cupboard. Draco had insisted on going with him whenever he went shopping after that.
Today with Ron had been exhausting. They'd been to the pictures in Muggle London and then to Hogsmeade. They'd had lunch at The Three Broomsticks and then gone to Diagon Alley where they'd spent two hours in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Two hours! As much as Harry loved Quidditch, he'd been ready to leave after 40 minutes. The shop wasn't that big. Ron, however, had been determined to eat up as much time as possible before going home to his 'surprise' party.
"We can't go back too early, Harry," Ron had said as they ate ice cream sundaes at Fortescue's. "It'll ruin the 'surprise'."
Harry had to admit that he'd been sort of, well, stunned that Ron was that perceptive and it must have shown on his face.
"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron had said, exasperated. "She gives me a surprise party every year. The only surprise is that she's surprised I haven't figured it out yet."
Harry had to laugh at that. Hermione was book smart but she missed a lot of things that were right in front of her. "So why don't you tell her, then?"
"Because she gets such a kick out of it," Ron said.
"But it's not honest, Ron!" Harry cried.
Ron laughed loudly. "Since when have birthdays and honesty been nodding acquaintances?" He waved his spoon in Harry's direction. "I'll make a deal with you. When you tell my mum you've got enough green shirts, I'll tell Hermione no more surprise parties."
Even Harry had laughed at that.
As Harry entered the lounge room, his eyes quickly sought and found Draco. A rush of warmth flooded his body as he watched Draco talking amiably with Dean. Over the last few years, Draco had developed a friendship of sorts with all the Weasleys, but it was sort of odd – not strained, exactly, but not entirely relaxed, either. Conversations with any of Harry's other Gryffindor friends were, however, polite though rather stilted. With the exception of Dean.
Draco and Dean had struck up an easy friendship almost from the beginning of Harry and Draco's relationship. Certainly, Dean had been the first to figure out that Harry and Draco had been seeing each other. Harry supposed that it was because Dean was a close friend of Harry's, but not as close as the Weasleys or Hermione, and that Dean was quieter and more reserved than Seamus or Neville, that had enticed Draco into the friendship.
Whatever it was, it amused Harry that Draco had developed such a close friendship with a Muggle born wizard. He definitely had no idea what had attracted Dean to a friendship with Draco but was extremely grateful for it.
Harry stopped at the bar and got three drinks. Carrying three drinks through the throng of people between him and Draco and Dean didn't appeal to Harry, especially having just showered and changed into clean clothes, so he muttered a quick incantation and two of the drinks disappeared from the bar and into the hands of a surprised Draco. Harry caught Draco's eye and winked, picking up his own glass and pushed his way through the crowd towards his lover.
Draco had never quite understood how his friendship with Dean had developed but he was glad that it had. It pleased him that he could have such a an easy friendship with at least one of Harry's friends. That he, himself, had a friend at all.
Once he'd gotten to know Dean, he'd discovered that they shared a similar sense of humour, even if Dean was a little more reserved than Draco. And not as cruel. But they could have fun together in a way Draco couldn't with any of the Weasleys.
Draco was laughing at Dean's impersonation of Parvati Patil in a Divination lesson when he was startled by the appearance of glasses in each of his hands. Harry! He looked towards the bar and caught Harry's wink. He grinned at him, ignoring Dean's impersonation. Harry had no idea how sexy he looked. If he did, he wouldn't complain bitterly whenever someone gave him a green shirt.
He felt bereft when he lost sight of Harry but, almost immediately, elated when he realised that the loss of eye contact was because Harry was wending his way through the crowd towards Draco.
"Ouch!" he yelped, more out of surprise than any real pain from the pinch Dean had inflicted on his arm to attract his attention. "Here," he said, handing him one of the drinks and rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "Harry's here."
Draco felt Harry's familiar arm slide across his shoulders and he leaned in towards him, closing his eyes as Harry's gentle lips grazed the side of his cheek. Draco felt rather than heard Harry's husky whisper in his ear. "I missed you today." Draco leaned back as Harry slipped his arm down off Draco's shoulders and put both arms around his waist, his chin resting on Draco's shoulder.
"Hi, Dean," Harry said warmly.
Dean smiled and lifted his glass slightly. "Thanks for the drink. Did Ron drive you nuts today?"
Harry rolled his eyes and groaned, attempting to evoke maximum sympathy. "I'm exhausted!" he exclaimed, taking a deep breath. "First, we went to the pictures in London and saw a typical 'buddy cop' film with at least fifteen car chases in it and then we went to Hogsmeade for lunch. After that, we went to Diagon Alley, for a 'quick' one hour visit to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes where Fred and George just had to try out their latest invention on me. We had to stay there so long waiting for my leg to grow back because I'm no good at hopping. Then we spent two hours – two hours! – in Quality Quidditch Supplies and then to Fortescue's for a sundae." He paused to take another deep breath. "And then," he added dramatically, "after all that, Ron says he knows about the surprise party!"
Draco snorted. "He's figured it out already? Thought it would have taken another three years at least."
Dean snickered and Harry scowled at them both. "Anyway," he said, slightly miffed that his tale of woe had gone pretty much unnoticed, "my legs are aching now. I never realised walking and Apparating could be so tiring."
"Oh, you poor thing," Draco mocked, laying his hand supportively on Harry's arm but his face clearly showing his lack of sincerity. "Do you want to know what I did today, Harry?"
"Er..." From his tone, Harry was certain that he didn't want to know what Draco had done during the day but he was equally certain that that would be the wrong answer. He knew without a doubt that he was in trouble whether he answered yes or no and wisely stayed silent.
"In the pursuit of leisure," Draco snarled, "I washed and ironed all our clothes, washed the hard floors, vacuumed the carpet, cleaned the kitchen – including the oven and the fridge, mind – scrubbed the bathrooms, washed the windows-"
Harry lifted his drink to his mouth to hide the smile he tried, but failed, to keep from his face.
Dean was less tactful and laughed heartily. "Draco, you sound just like Cinderella! Isn't that what house elves are for?" he teased.
"Who the fuck is Cinderella?" Draco asked, trying desperately to keep his hard tone and prevent his mouth from curling upwards at the corners.
"Well, she wasn't a witch!" Dean chortled. "She had to do it all by hand."
Draco paled at the thought and Harry grinned at him, taking Draco's empty glass before the he dropped it in shock. "I told you, you don't have to do all the housework yourself. I'll help."
"You don't do it right," Draco pouted.
"I'm just not used to doing it with magic," Harry said. "I'm pretty good at it the Muggle way, though."
"That takes all day instead of an hour!" Draco was outraged.
"An hour?" Dean choked. "You did all that in an hour and you're whinging?"
"Hey!" Draco said, placing his hands on his hips defiantly. "If Harry can whine about his day, I can complain about the housework."
Harry drained his glass and placed both his and Draco's on a tray as it hovered past. He slid his hand down Draco's arm and twined and their fingers together. "Want to dance?"
"Mmm, that sounds nice," he said, closing his eyes, a look of serenity flicking across his face.
Dean feigned annoyance. "Well thanks!" he said. "Just dump me, then."
Draco grinned at his friend and held out his hand. "You can dance with us, too, if you want."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Be that close to you while you guys rub up against each other? No thanks! Think I'll go find my wife."
Draco goggled at him in amazement. "You're going to try to pick out one particular Weasley in this crowd?"
"Well, maybe I'll just grab the first one I find," Dean said, laughing.
"Laws of probability say that'll be a bloke," Draco said, raising his eyebrows impishly. "Something you want to tell us?"
"If it's Bill, send him our way," Harry said as Draco glared at him.
"See you later," Dean called over his shoulder as he off in search of Ginny.
Draco turned in Harry's arms to look at him. They were of about equal height and Draco could easily look into the pools of emerald Harry called eyes. He slung his arms around Harry's waist, one hand draped casually over his boyfriend's bum. "So, about this dance," he said, as Harry nuzzled affectionately at his neck. "You're not going to trample all over my fee, are you?"
Harry looked at him and smiled. "Honey, I was talking about dancing to a slow song like this," he said, waving his arm in the air to indicate the current song. "Standing in one spot and swaying. My feet aren't moving from the floor."
Draco tugged Harry's arm and led him to the dance floor. "Best we go now, then," he said earnestly. "Your offers to dance don't come around too often so I'd better make the most of it. I'm worried a fast song'll come on next," he joked.
They held each other tightly as they swayed gently to the music, Draco pressing his face against Harry's neck, inhaling the sweet, heady scent that was uniquely Harry, mixed in with the herbal soap he'd used in the Weasleys' shower.
Harry shuddered as Draco's mouth moved to his earlobe, teeth nibbling softly. Then Draco's breath in his ear. "You know, Harry, I really do understand you're being so tired after today." He pulled back and looked at Harry slyly. "I grow wearisome after spending just 5 minutes in Weasley's company."
Most people thought Draco was lucky that Harry had 'saved' him but Harry knew that it was he who was the lucky one. Draco had rescued him. From himself. From the world. From insanity.
Draco was his soul mate.
Harry flopped onto his back, his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. The last five years with Draco had been idyllic. Mostly. Not perfect, but pretty good.
But while Harry and Draco had been insulated in their own little world, Voldemort had been wreaking havoc on the rest of the wizarding community. Harry had been content to distance himself from the war, as long as Voldemort had left he and Draco alone. It was almost like an unspoken agreement between them; if Harry and Draco kept out of it, Voldemort left them alone.
Even when Hermione's parents had been killed last year, Harry had remained uninvolved. He'd been sad for Hermione, helped her with funeral arrangements, attended the funeral and generally been her supportive best friend, but he still hadn't joined in the war, much to Ron's annoyance.
He was beginning to wonder, however, if it was possible for him to stay out of it all. It was probably time for him to fight. But how was he going to do that whilst still protecting Draco? It was a problem for which he didn't yet have an answer.
Harry turned his head to the side. Draco looked almost ... angelic ... when he was asleep, his soft, blonde hair fanned over his pillow. Harry bit his lip. Draco went to sleep face down and practically didn't move all night. Draco slept like the dead.
Harry often wondered whether Draco could wake up on his own or whether, if Harry didn't wake him, he'd just keep sleeping forever. Sometimes, Harry watched Draco for a couple of hours before he woke him; sometimes it was only a few minutes. Usually, it was somewhere in between. Whatever, Draco was always mildly pissed off when Harry roused him. Harry didn't care, though. Although he never voiced his soppy thoughts, he missed Draco when he was asleep and woke him up as soon as the pang became unbearable.
Like now.
Harry looked over at Draco again and was taken aback, as he always was, by the golden hue of Draco's hair. A short while ago, the locks had been silvery; now they were gold. He supposed it was the difference between moonlight and sunlight – dark and light – or just the chameleon that was Draco Malfoy. Didn't matter. He was the man Harry loved with a passion he'd never known before. Hated and loved. Was there a difference? Sometimes Harry wasn't sure.
He lifted the hair from the back of Draco's neck and pressed his lips into the soft flesh. Draco grunted into his pillow and flicked his head slightly as if trying to dislodge a pesky fly. Harry grinned and moved over to Draco's side of the bed. He positioned himself above Draco and let his weight fall.
Harry heard a muffled "oomph" from Draco and Draco pushed his body up, rolling Harry off him. "Damn it, Harry!" Draco exclaimed, looking around briefly and then closing his eyes again. "It's still early. Let me go back to sleep." He buried his face in the pillow again.
Not for the first time, Harry wondered how Draco could breathe sleeping face down like that but Draco got annoyed at him whenever he asked so Harry just kept silent. Draco was definitely not a morning person.
Harry ran his hand gently over Draco's hair, trying to coax him into full consciousness. "But aren't you meeting your grandmother for breakfast?"
Draco twisted around and quickly sat up, running his hands over his face, trying to force the remnants of sleep from his foggy brain. "Fuck! I forgot." He scrambled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, turning the taps on in the shower. He let the water heat and went back to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of Harry's side of the be and leaned towards Harry, kissing him softly. "Morning."
Harry smiled as he watched Draco divest himself of his pyjamas and head back to the bathroom.
"Are you coming with me for breakfast?" Draco called as he stepped into the shower, the hot water sluicing over his body and washing away any last traces of sleep.
Harry followed Draco into the bathroom and perched on the edge of the bath. "I can't. It's Ron's birthday today, remember? I've got to take him out all day so Hermione can get his surprise party ready."
"Ah, yes," Draco said, not bothering to disguise his sarcasm. "Party – Gryffindor style. I can't wait!"
Harry frowned and stared at the shape behind the fogged up glass shower screen. "Draco, you'll -"
"Relax, Harry," Draco said as he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. "I promise I'll be good."
Harry leaned across and pulled a towel from the towel rail, handing it to Draco. As he watched Draco dry himself, Harry had a vision of himself tumbling Draco into bed and making love to him for hours. Harry shook his head to clear it. He knew how much Draco loved his family – especially his grandmother – and wasn't going to do anything to make him late.
He followed Draco back into the bedroom. "Will you bring some clothes to the party for me? I can shower and get changed at Ron's."
"Sure," Draco said. He grinned mischievously at Harry as he fastened his robes. "Tight black leather trousers and matching vest, studded belt -"
"I don't own any clothes like that!" Harry interrupted, appalled at the thought of it.
Draco laughed. "I could get you some, though," he said slyly. Seeing Harry's glare, he sighed. "All right, all right! I know. Something Gryffindorish. Something boring."
"Jeans and a shirt, Draco. That's it!" Harry was bordering on hysterical now. "Maybe I should just -"
"Harry, relax!" Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm to placate him. "I was only teasing. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. It'll be fine."
He turned away and looked into the mirror, self consciously adjusting his robes. He frowned as he peered at his reflection. "Do I look okay?" he asked Harry, a little nervously.
"Yeah," Harry replied, still a bit distracted.
Draco sighed impatiently and wriggled around inside his robes. "Are you sure? I haven't worn robes for a while and they feel a little ... strange."
"The last time was when we had dinner with your grandmother just last week," Harry laughed as he crossed the room and stood in front of Draco. He quickly adjusted the top clasp on Draco's robes. "You look fine." He ran his hands over Draco's shoulders and down his arms to smooth the flowing material. "You look gorgeous," he said softly and kissed Draco's lips gently, almost chastely. He smiled as he stepped back slightly. "You're such a drama queen," he teased.
Draco rolled his eyes. He raised his arms slightly and let them fall back to his sides. "All right, I'm going now. I'm already late."
Harry looked at his watch. "Only two minutes. If she makes a fuss, tell her your watch is slow."
Draco chuckled as he stepped back and lifted his wand from the dresser. "Have a good day with Ron. I'll see you tonight."
Harry waved as he watched Draco Disapparate.
Harry stepped out of the bathroom and started down the stairs. It was still early but already the party was in full swing. Typical of any Weasley gathering, really.
Harry felt refreshed following his shower and change of clothes. He'd needed it, too. As much as he loved Ron, after spending the whole day with him traipsing all around magical and Muggle London, Harry knew he wouldn't have made it through the party without a shower in between.
And, despite his teasing this morning, Draco had come through for him on the clothes front. Harry felt comfortable but also knew he looked good, dressed in the black jeans and dark green silk shirt Draco had picked out for him. Not that there was a lot of choice in his wardrobe anyway. Half (or more) of his wardrobe consisted of green. Green shirts, green jeans, green robes. Every year for his birthday, Mrs Weasley gave him some sort of green shirt and she still knitted him a green jumper each Christmas. Draco wasn't much better. Most of the clothes he bought for Harry were green, too.
As much as he was pleased to have his mother's eyes – a part of her – sometimes he wished he had his dad's black eyes so he could get some different colours in his wardrobe. Not that Harry really cared about clothes but his wardrobe basically consisted of black jeans, blue jeans, three quarters of green shirts, some white shirts, two red shirts and one orange shirt.
Harry was quite fond of the orange shirt. He'd bought it himself. One of the first articles of clothing he'd ever bought. And it wasn't green. Draco, though, refused to go out in public with him when he wore it so mostly it stayed in the cupboard. Draco had insisted on going with him whenever he went shopping after that.
Today with Ron had been exhausting. They'd been to the pictures in Muggle London and then to Hogsmeade. They'd had lunch at The Three Broomsticks and then gone to Diagon Alley where they'd spent two hours in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Two hours! As much as Harry loved Quidditch, he'd been ready to leave after 40 minutes. The shop wasn't that big. Ron, however, had been determined to eat up as much time as possible before going home to his 'surprise' party.
"We can't go back too early, Harry," Ron had said as they ate ice cream sundaes at Fortescue's. "It'll ruin the 'surprise'."
Harry had to admit that he'd been sort of, well, stunned that Ron was that perceptive and it must have shown on his face.
"Oh, come on, Harry," Ron had said, exasperated. "She gives me a surprise party every year. The only surprise is that she's surprised I haven't figured it out yet."
Harry had to laugh at that. Hermione was book smart but she missed a lot of things that were right in front of her. "So why don't you tell her, then?"
"Because she gets such a kick out of it," Ron said.
"But it's not honest, Ron!" Harry cried.
Ron laughed loudly. "Since when have birthdays and honesty been nodding acquaintances?" He waved his spoon in Harry's direction. "I'll make a deal with you. When you tell my mum you've got enough green shirts, I'll tell Hermione no more surprise parties."
Even Harry had laughed at that.
As Harry entered the lounge room, his eyes quickly sought and found Draco. A rush of warmth flooded his body as he watched Draco talking amiably with Dean. Over the last few years, Draco had developed a friendship of sorts with all the Weasleys, but it was sort of odd – not strained, exactly, but not entirely relaxed, either. Conversations with any of Harry's other Gryffindor friends were, however, polite though rather stilted. With the exception of Dean.
Draco and Dean had struck up an easy friendship almost from the beginning of Harry and Draco's relationship. Certainly, Dean had been the first to figure out that Harry and Draco had been seeing each other. Harry supposed that it was because Dean was a close friend of Harry's, but not as close as the Weasleys or Hermione, and that Dean was quieter and more reserved than Seamus or Neville, that had enticed Draco into the friendship.
Whatever it was, it amused Harry that Draco had developed such a close friendship with a Muggle born wizard. He definitely had no idea what had attracted Dean to a friendship with Draco but was extremely grateful for it.
Harry stopped at the bar and got three drinks. Carrying three drinks through the throng of people between him and Draco and Dean didn't appeal to Harry, especially having just showered and changed into clean clothes, so he muttered a quick incantation and two of the drinks disappeared from the bar and into the hands of a surprised Draco. Harry caught Draco's eye and winked, picking up his own glass and pushed his way through the crowd towards his lover.
Draco had never quite understood how his friendship with Dean had developed but he was glad that it had. It pleased him that he could have such a an easy friendship with at least one of Harry's friends. That he, himself, had a friend at all.
Once he'd gotten to know Dean, he'd discovered that they shared a similar sense of humour, even if Dean was a little more reserved than Draco. And not as cruel. But they could have fun together in a way Draco couldn't with any of the Weasleys.
Draco was laughing at Dean's impersonation of Parvati Patil in a Divination lesson when he was startled by the appearance of glasses in each of his hands. Harry! He looked towards the bar and caught Harry's wink. He grinned at him, ignoring Dean's impersonation. Harry had no idea how sexy he looked. If he did, he wouldn't complain bitterly whenever someone gave him a green shirt.
He felt bereft when he lost sight of Harry but, almost immediately, elated when he realised that the loss of eye contact was because Harry was wending his way through the crowd towards Draco.
"Ouch!" he yelped, more out of surprise than any real pain from the pinch Dean had inflicted on his arm to attract his attention. "Here," he said, handing him one of the drinks and rubbing the sore spot on his arm. "Harry's here."
Draco felt Harry's familiar arm slide across his shoulders and he leaned in towards him, closing his eyes as Harry's gentle lips grazed the side of his cheek. Draco felt rather than heard Harry's husky whisper in his ear. "I missed you today." Draco leaned back as Harry slipped his arm down off Draco's shoulders and put both arms around his waist, his chin resting on Draco's shoulder.
"Hi, Dean," Harry said warmly.
Dean smiled and lifted his glass slightly. "Thanks for the drink. Did Ron drive you nuts today?"
Harry rolled his eyes and groaned, attempting to evoke maximum sympathy. "I'm exhausted!" he exclaimed, taking a deep breath. "First, we went to the pictures in London and saw a typical 'buddy cop' film with at least fifteen car chases in it and then we went to Hogsmeade for lunch. After that, we went to Diagon Alley, for a 'quick' one hour visit to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes where Fred and George just had to try out their latest invention on me. We had to stay there so long waiting for my leg to grow back because I'm no good at hopping. Then we spent two hours – two hours! – in Quality Quidditch Supplies and then to Fortescue's for a sundae." He paused to take another deep breath. "And then," he added dramatically, "after all that, Ron says he knows about the surprise party!"
Draco snorted. "He's figured it out already? Thought it would have taken another three years at least."
Dean snickered and Harry scowled at them both. "Anyway," he said, slightly miffed that his tale of woe had gone pretty much unnoticed, "my legs are aching now. I never realised walking and Apparating could be so tiring."
"Oh, you poor thing," Draco mocked, laying his hand supportively on Harry's arm but his face clearly showing his lack of sincerity. "Do you want to know what I did today, Harry?"
"Er..." From his tone, Harry was certain that he didn't want to know what Draco had done during the day but he was equally certain that that would be the wrong answer. He knew without a doubt that he was in trouble whether he answered yes or no and wisely stayed silent.
"In the pursuit of leisure," Draco snarled, "I washed and ironed all our clothes, washed the hard floors, vacuumed the carpet, cleaned the kitchen – including the oven and the fridge, mind – scrubbed the bathrooms, washed the windows-"
Harry lifted his drink to his mouth to hide the smile he tried, but failed, to keep from his face.
Dean was less tactful and laughed heartily. "Draco, you sound just like Cinderella! Isn't that what house elves are for?" he teased.
"Who the fuck is Cinderella?" Draco asked, trying desperately to keep his hard tone and prevent his mouth from curling upwards at the corners.
"Well, she wasn't a witch!" Dean chortled. "She had to do it all by hand."
Draco paled at the thought and Harry grinned at him, taking Draco's empty glass before the he dropped it in shock. "I told you, you don't have to do all the housework yourself. I'll help."
"You don't do it right," Draco pouted.
"I'm just not used to doing it with magic," Harry said. "I'm pretty good at it the Muggle way, though."
"That takes all day instead of an hour!" Draco was outraged.
"An hour?" Dean choked. "You did all that in an hour and you're whinging?"
"Hey!" Draco said, placing his hands on his hips defiantly. "If Harry can whine about his day, I can complain about the housework."
Harry drained his glass and placed both his and Draco's on a tray as it hovered past. He slid his hand down Draco's arm and twined and their fingers together. "Want to dance?"
"Mmm, that sounds nice," he said, closing his eyes, a look of serenity flicking across his face.
Dean feigned annoyance. "Well thanks!" he said. "Just dump me, then."
Draco grinned at his friend and held out his hand. "You can dance with us, too, if you want."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Be that close to you while you guys rub up against each other? No thanks! Think I'll go find my wife."
Draco goggled at him in amazement. "You're going to try to pick out one particular Weasley in this crowd?"
"Well, maybe I'll just grab the first one I find," Dean said, laughing.
"Laws of probability say that'll be a bloke," Draco said, raising his eyebrows impishly. "Something you want to tell us?"
"If it's Bill, send him our way," Harry said as Draco glared at him.
"See you later," Dean called over his shoulder as he off in search of Ginny.
Draco turned in Harry's arms to look at him. They were of about equal height and Draco could easily look into the pools of emerald Harry called eyes. He slung his arms around Harry's waist, one hand draped casually over his boyfriend's bum. "So, about this dance," he said, as Harry nuzzled affectionately at his neck. "You're not going to trample all over my fee, are you?"
Harry looked at him and smiled. "Honey, I was talking about dancing to a slow song like this," he said, waving his arm in the air to indicate the current song. "Standing in one spot and swaying. My feet aren't moving from the floor."
Draco tugged Harry's arm and led him to the dance floor. "Best we go now, then," he said earnestly. "Your offers to dance don't come around too often so I'd better make the most of it. I'm worried a fast song'll come on next," he joked.
They held each other tightly as they swayed gently to the music, Draco pressing his face against Harry's neck, inhaling the sweet, heady scent that was uniquely Harry, mixed in with the herbal soap he'd used in the Weasleys' shower.
Harry shuddered as Draco's mouth moved to his earlobe, teeth nibbling softly. Then Draco's breath in his ear. "You know, Harry, I really do understand you're being so tired after today." He pulled back and looked at Harry slyly. "I grow wearisome after spending just 5 minutes in Weasley's company."