"Harry, don't look now, but Malfoy just walked in," Hermione said, leaning over a stack of books so she could whisper into Harry's ear. Harry looked anyway. Draco Malfoy had indeed just entered Flourish and Blots.
"Ferret?" Ron asked, sniggering, "All alone? So what's the problem, Hermione, this is an early Christmas present."
"Ron, just behave," Hermione warned, saving Harry the trouble. Ron grumbled, and Harry thought he caught the words 'behave my arse' and 'dirty ferret'. He smiled bitterly; this would be difficult.
"Weasley? What a pleasure to see you," Malfoy drawled, "I might be mistaken, but I was under the impression that you couldn't afford new books, so why-Ah, Potter." Malfoy said, catching sight of Harry.
"Malfoy," Harry nodded, staring stonily at the boy. Hermione said nothing, watching the scene with interest. Surprisingly, the glare Harry was fixing Malfoy with seemed to have an effect on him.
"I – I was…" Malfoy began, shifting his weight uneasily. Then, he had an internal shift. What am I doing? He's not the boss of me! "Christmas shopping, Potter? I didn't think you had anyone to buy for – isn't Christmas meant to be the time you share with people you love? Not that you'd let anyone get close enough to you."
Apparently, he'd touched a nerve. Harry scowled, his eyes flashing furiously. Malfoy could tell he was about to-
"Get out," Harry said, his voice dangerously low. Malfoy tried to sneer as he turned away, but looking into the anger-filled eyes of Harry Potter, he found it quite difficult. Yes, he'd definitely touched a nerve. How interesting.
Well that was unexpected, Malfoy thought, I thought he was going to blow up.
"Harry, are you ok? You know it's not true, he knows it too, he just likes to annoy you." Hermione said. Suddenly Harry's anger cleared and his face was filled with understanding. Hermione smiled, thinking she'd gotten through to him, that he finally understood that none of them were going to desert him just because he'd already defeated Voldemort and they didn't need his protection anymore. But Harry had something else in his mind.
"No," he said slowly, thinking it through. "No, he doesn't know it. He doesn't know," Harry said, wheeling around and exiting the shop in a hurry.
"Harry? HARRY! Where are you going?" Ron shouted, running to catch up with him. Hermione had apparently stayed behind to finish up the shopping.
"Flooing home," Harry said without slowing his pace once Ron was level with him.
"But… why?"
"I just remembered something I have to do. It's important." Harry said, reaching the door to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Okay, mate. Well, I'll see you on Christmas Day. Don't forget, Hermione wants you there by twelve."
"Can I bring a date?"
"A date?" Ron asked, clearly confused, "but you aren't seeing any-"
"Yes, I am," Harry interrupted.
"You're seeing someone? A guy?" Ron said, his face showing his astonishment. "Yeah, of course you can, mate. Hermione will be thrilled. Tell me, how long have you been keeping us in the dark?"
"Longer than I'd have liked," Harry admitted.
"Is it serious?"
"I think so."
"Who-"
"Well, I'd better be going," Harry said hurriedly, "I'll see you on Christmas Day. Bye, Ron." Harry turned away quickly and entered the Leaky Cauldron.
"Just flooing, Tom," Harry said to the barman, as he headed to the fireplace and withdrew a bag of floo-powder from his robe pocket.
Ugh. I'll never get used to floo-travel, Harry thought disgustedly as he picked himself up off the floor and brushed soot off himself. At least I don't have glasses anymore, they used to break every time. Harry had finally let Hermione perform a permanent vision-correcting charm on him. Well, he figured she needed to practice her Medi-Witch skills on someone.
Now, to fix that problem, Harry thought, looking around, pleased to note that his other half was not yet home.
Harry stood back, and admired his handiwork. The dining table had a silver table runner on it, and was scattered with white rose petals. Two cube-shaped white candles were on the table, and a cluster of different sized cubed and rectangular white candles was on a rose-petal-scattered side table, next to two champagne glasses. The champagne bottle was in an ice bucket on a stand next to the side table. There was a light rose and geranium scent in the air, from the candles, and this blended perfectly with the smell of a lamb roast with roasted vegetables coming from the oven.
Satisfied with the setting, Harry checked his watch, and realised the roast was done. He turned the oven off and let the roast and the vegetables stay in the oven to keep warm. Slightly concerned, he looked towards the fireplace, just as the orange flames turned green, and a figure stepped neatly out. Damn it, Harry thought, he's so good at it.
"Harry? What's – what's going on?" The man asked, indicating the table. Harry smiled, relieved that he was not angry about their confrontation earlier in the day, and walked over to his lover.
"Oh, nothing," Harry said nonchalantly, leaning in and kissing the other man soundly. "It's just – you made a good point, today," he finished, enjoying his lover's confusion.
"I – I did? When?"
"In Flourish and Blotts. You made a very good point, Draco."
Draco Malfoy looked away, his puzzled face morphing into a pained expression and a tiny hint of rose colouring his pale cheeks.
"Harry, you know I didn't mean any of it. I was just…"
"Yes you did, Draco. You did mean it," Harry said, without a trace of anger or disappointment in his voice; he was simply stating a fact, and this hurt Draco more than he cared to admit. Because Harry was right. He had meant it.
"Sit down, Draco, I'll bring dinner out."
"You cooked?" Draco asked, surprise evident in his voice. Usually they got takeaway because Draco couldn't cook very well and Harry didn't like cooking. He'd done too much of it at the Dursleys.
"For you, Draco, anything." Harry said, fixing Draco with an intense stare and entering the kitchen. Draco shivered, liking the tone in Harry's voice.
"So… obviously you're not too upset with me, then?" Draco said, gesturing to the table as Harry returned with the roast and vegetables. Harry noticed that Draco had poured the champagne and set a glass down next to both of the plates at the table. He wondered briefly whether Draco had gotten up from his chair to do it, and scoffed at the idea, realising that the other man was much too lazy to do such a thing when he could just use his wand.
"Apparently not," Harry commented, serving the food and sitting down. When Harry didn't say anything more, Draco spoke up.
"Well? What is it that you want to say to me? You've obviously gone to this much trouble for a reason," Draco said, trying to mask his apprehension by taking a bite of the lamb. He wouldn't do this if he wanted to break up with me, Draco reasoned, calming himself down.
"I'm just trying to make a point."
Draco sighed, and put down his knife and fork. "Harry, can you please tell me what's going on? You've got me into a nervous sweat. You know I don't like being kept in the dark."
"I'm sorry," Harry sighed, taking a relatively large gulp of his champagne. Draco raised an eyebrow; Harry was obviously nervous.
"It's just," Harry began, "today, when you said – when you said I wouldn't let anyone close enough. You're wrong." Draco remained silent, waiting anxiously for Harry's next words.
"I – today, when you, when you said that, I – at first I was angry, and then I realised why you'd said it. I – I never realised that you didn't – I mean, that I hadn't made it clear – I mean…I – Draco, I… God, isn't it obvious? I love you. I'm so hopelessly in love with you!"
Draco was in shock. Well that wasn't what he was expecting. He had been mentally preparing himself for the worst, but… this was good news. This was very good. So why couldn't he talk? Why wasn't he responding in kind?
"Draco, talk to me," Harry pleaded, looking away so that Draco couldn't see the hurt on his face.
"I – Harry, I-" Draco croaked, suddenly feeling very clumsy and foolish. Harry took this as rejection and buried his face in his hands.
Instead of trying to speak, Draco stood abruptly and made his way to Harry's chair. Harry hadn't noticed his presence.
"Harry, I-" Draco tried again, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, trying to get him to look up.
"Don't worry about it," Harry said, sounding oddly choked.
"God damn it, Potter, will you just look at me!" Draco shouted. Finally!
That did the trick; Harry's head snapped up. Draco was pained to see tears on Harry's face. He wiped them away, tenderly.
"Damn it, Harry," he said softly. "You always make things so hard for yourself. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I'm so sorry I said what I did. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just… I guess I wanted you to feel what I was feeling."
"Oh, God, Draco. I love you so much," Harry sobbed, pulling Draco onto his knees for a needy kiss.
"I love you too," Draco breathed, when they had broken apart. "I'm sorry. I'm just so sick of you running away from your feelings. You think you're not allowed to feel, just because you had to deal with all that shit before it doesn't mean you have to have a shit life now!" Draco said, standing up abruptly.
"I realise that, now," Harry said, softly, standing up and reaching for Draco. "Come on, love, let's go to bed," Harry suggested, smiling seductively.
"Mmm," Draco agreed, leaning in to kiss Harry passionately.
"Draco? Love?" Harry asked as Draco snuggled up to him in bed, preparing to go to sleep.
"Mmm?" Draco mumbled into Harry's neck.
"You're coming to lunch with me at the Weasleys' on Christmas Day."
"Mmmm." Draco mumbled again, before-
"Wait, what did you say?" he said, his voice slightly raised as he sat up in bed.
"Lunch. On Christmas Day. With the Weasleys. I said you'd come."
"You said I'd – you told them? About us?"
"No, no, no, you know me. I like to cause a fuss. Thought I'd leave the who til Christmas Day."
Draco chuckled, lying back down. "You truly are a nasty character, Harry Potter. I love you."
"I love you too, Draco. So are you coming?"
"Can't miss out on torturing the Weasel, can I?" Draco smirked and snuggled back against Harry.
"Good. I'm glad. It's going to be a big day, Draco."
"I know."
"I'm not sure you know just how big it's going to be," Harry said cryptically.
"Just how many Weasleys are we talking, Harry?"
"Hmmm, let's see – Molly and Arthur, Bill and Fleur, Charlie and – whatever that guy's name is, Percy, Fred and George and their girlfriends, Ron and Hermione, and Ginny and Dean. And then there'll be non-Weasleys too."
"Like?" Draco asked sleepily. Harry knew his tone of voice would be slightly more on the horrified side if he'd been more awake.
"Well, there'll be Remus Lupin, and Tonks, your cousin, and Snape, and… Hmmm. Probably Neville and Luna, Kingsley Shacklebolt…"
"Sounds like a big day." Draco mumbled, dropping his head onto Harry's chest and promptly falling asleep.
"You don't know half of it," Harry whispered, smiling. He was just about to fall asleep when he remembered the uneaten dinner sitting on the table. Oh well, he thought, it did its job.