A/N: I do not own Harry Potter.

Draco fidgeted nervously with his tie as he heard the floo roar to life in the next room. He sat straighter in his chair at the dining table and waited for his visitor to join him.

"Hello," Harry greeted him warmly, his green eyes sparkling.

"Hi," Draco breathed as his boyfriend placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

"How was your day?" Harry asked, taking a seat next to Draco.

"It was fine, thank you," Draco watched as Harry began to fill his plate with food.

"Good, good," Harry mumbled around a forkful of lamb.

Draco bit his lip and watched as Harry swallowed and reached for his wine glass.

"Harry," he began.

"Yes, Draco?" Harry smirked.

"I was thinking…well I would like it very much…if we could possibly…talk about where we're going to live? I mean, we've been together for a while now and it just seems like it's…time?" Draco trailed off, berating himself inwardly for his inelegance.

Harry frowned, "Ok…where do you propose we live?"

"Well here in the manor, of course," Draco wrapped his long pale fingers around his glass and gulped his wine in two large swigs.

"Absolutely not!" Harry snorted, "You know I can't agree to that."

"And why not?"

"You know why not!"

Draco sighed and fought an eye-roll, "Harry, please. This is my home. It has been in my family for almost a thousand years. My forefathers built it with their bare hands, and I think I should honour that."

"Well then, honour it," Harry shrugged, "Just don't expect me to honour it with you."

Draco arched an eyebrow, "So you don't want to live with me?"

"I never said that," Harry sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He had been in such a good mood after finishing up at the Ministry. Now he wished he had declined Draco's dinner invitation and gone home to some instant noodles and a piece of toast instead.

"Then what do you propose?" Draco's tone was casual, but Harry could hear the bite in it.

"We could live at Grimmauld Place. It was passed down to me by my godfather, and it was the house of your Mother's family. It has ties to both of us. And neither one of us has been held captive there..." Harry trailed off at the horrible memory.

Draco coughed indelicately, "No."

"No?"

"No," Draco nodded once, as if to signal that was the end of the conversation.

"And why not?"

"I've told you, Harry," Draco spoke as if to a small child, "Because I would like to continue the Malfoy tradition of living in the Manor."

"And what about my feelings?" Harry scowled, "Does it not matter to you that my friends and I suffered a great deal inside these walls?"

"You didn't think it was suffering last night," Draco smirked around his newly-filled wine glass.

Harry huffed in indignation and stabbed a piece of lamb with his fork.

"I do care about what happened to you, Harry," Draco's voice had softened, "But I don't see why I should have to give up my family home. It is so vast, you need not ever go anywhere near the rooms that hold those bad memories."

"I don't agree," Harry ground out beneath his teeth.

"I'm not moving to your place."

"I didn't ask you to."

"So now you don't want to live with me?"

"I do. I just don't want to live with you here."

"And I don't want to live with you in that glorified shack!" Draco threw his cutlery down on his plate and stalked from the room.

Harry sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He loved Draco, and he wanted to live with him more than anything. But why could the git not see that living under this roof, where the memories of five years ago still haunted him around every door?

"Draco," Harry came up behind the blonde wizard and wrapped his arms around his waist.

Draco sighed and leaned back into Harry's embrace.

"Why don't we buy a new place?" Harry said softly, his lips moving against Draco's jacket-clad shoulder.

"What do you mean?" He turned in Harry's arms and frowned, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Well you don't want to live at my place, and I sure as hell don't want to move in here…so why don't we buy a house that will be both of ours?"

"Are you deaf, Potter?" Draco hissed, and Harry flinched at the sound of his last name. Draco hadn't called him that in over a year.

"I will not live anywhere else but the manor!" His grey eyes flashed and rage bubbled in Harry's stomach.

"Fine then!" he spat, throwing his arms in the air, "Have your bloody manor!"

Harry turned on his heel and stormed back into the dining room. He grabbed his coat and wand, and stalked back past Draco towards the fireplace.

"I hope you and your manor are very happy together!" He threw his hand into the pot of floo powder on the mantel, and dropped it on to the grate.

"Twelve Grimmauld Place!" He shouted.

Green flames licked up his robes, matching the angry glare in his emerald eyes.

A second later, all was silent and Draco was left alone.

He sighed and collapsed into the nearest armchair. His house elf apparated in and asked if he would like a drink. He ordered a Firewhiskey, and spent the next few hours downing glass after glass and staring dolefully into the empty grate.

Harry woke with a start in the middle of the night. He jammed his glasses on, and reached quickly for his wand. He held his breath and listened.

Bang! There it was again!

He crept slowly from his room and tiptoed down the stairs. The noise was coming from the direction of the kitchen. Harry briefly wondered where Kreacher was, and then remembered he had sent the house elf off to help Hermione and Ron sort out their new house.

Harry held his wand out in front of it, lit with a simple lumos.

A figure was moving about the shadows of the kitchen and Harry sucked in a breath.

"Who's there?" he demanded, and the figure whirled around so quickly it lost its balance and landed in a pile of limbs on the floor.

"Fuck!" The figure moaned, clutching his head, "Whatcha do that for?"

"Draco?" Harry waved his wand and a ball of light zoomed out of the tip to hover in the middle of the room.

"Harry!" Draco grinned and opened his arms wide, still sprawled on the floor.

"Are you…drunk?" Harry screwed up his nose and a strong whiff of alcohol assaulted his nostrils.

"I might've had one or two," Draco drawled, trying to get to his feet.

"Here," Harry stepped forward and offered his hand. Draco took it and Harry tugged.

The blonde was hauled to his feet, and staggered forward into Harry.

"Whoa," Harry muttered while trying to keep Draco upright. He led him to a chair and forced him into it. Harry then busied himself with getting Draco a drink of water. When he had taken a few sips, Harry sat down next to him.

"What are you doing in my kitchen at…" Harry turned to the clock on the wall, "two in the morning?"

Draco huffed dramatically, "I wanna'd to see ya," he smiled lopsidedly.

Harry frowned, "And it couldn't wait until morning? A respectable hour of morning, that is."

Draco shook his head enthusiastically, "No! I had to see you n-now!" He hiccupped and giggled at the sound.

"What do you want?" Harry sighed. He did not want a repeat of dinner, and his head was too foggy with sleep to deal with a drunk, demanding Draco.

"I wan' you, Harry. Jus' you." Draco stared down at his water as if he hadn't noticed it until now.

"You have me," Harry assured him, and Draco lifted his gaze to meet Harry's.

"Move in wiv me?" He slurred.

"We've had this conversation Draco. About seven hours ago. And it didn't end well."

"I know, I know!" Draco moaned and let his head fall to the wooden table with a thud, "I messed it up, Harry. I always mess fings up…"

"No, you don't."

"I do!" He insisted, "I just wan' you! I don' really care where we live. I dunno why I was such a prat b'fore…"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm sayin'" Draco sighed, "That I wanna buy a house wiv you. A new one."

"Really?"

"Really, truly, definitely." Draco nodded.

"Well, that's great," Harry allowed himself a small smile, "But how about we get you to bed now, and we can talk about this again in the morning, when you're sober?"

"Mmk," Draco hummed drowsily and allowed his eyelids to droop shut.

"No, no," Harry stood, "Not here."

He summoned all his strength to lift the heavy blonde off of the chair and helped him stagger to the stair case. After a few steps Harry realised they would never make it to his bedroom like this, so he levitated Draco carefully up the stairs and on to his bed.

Draco was asleep before his body hit the mattress, and Harry grinned down at his relaxed form. He snuggled in behind Draco and wrapped a protective arm around him.

Draco was stubborn, infuriating and selfish. Harry had known that since they were eleven. But he was also intelligent enough to know that no possession could ever trump the love that Harry and he shared.

Harry smiled against Draco's shoulder blade and fell asleep dreaming of white picket fences and 'For Sale' signs.