"Harry," Draco whispers, throwing himself down on the bed. "Guess what day it is?"
"Mmph," Harry says, by way of reply.
"Harry?"
"Draaaco," he whines, covering his head with a pillow. "The war. Is bloody. Over. I thought that meant that I could get a sleep-in once in a while, but that was obviously ruled out the second I decided to move in with you!"
Draco looks hurt. "Fine."
Harry pulls his head out from underneath the pillow. The blonde is sitting with his arms crossed and a pout on his face, staring at Harry.
"Okay, Draco," he says, immediately feeling sorry. "What day is it?"
Draco pouts even more. "Guess."
Harry stops feeling sorry.
"I don't know," he says, pulling Draco down next to him. "My birthday?"
"No," the blonde replies, kissing Harry on the chin. "Guess again."
"Anniversary of Voldemort's death?" Harry tries.
"Nope."
"Okay, seriously, I give up."
"It's the day that crazy fangirl writes a fluffy drabble about us."
"Oh, not that again," Harry sighs. "I thought she was moving onto angst?"
"Unfortunately, no," Draco replies, kissing Harry on the forehead. "You know, I really hope this one works out. Last time she tried, she practically gave me cavities. And she put a few Muggle fairy floss companies out of business."
"I just hope she doesn't plan on involving herself in the story again," Harry says, leaning up to kiss Draco properly.
Oops.