First I'd like to thank Arabellagaleotti, my beta reader, for the wonderful work she has done. Then I would also like to take the chance to dedicate this to Tana, who would love this story. I hope you do too.

And no, all these wonderful people and places are not mine, they're just borrowed from the one and only J. K. Rowling.

oOoOo

It was Saturday night, and Grimmauld Place was filled with warm lights and laughter.

A lot of laughter, actually, a fair deal of discussions and a decent amount of alcohol. In other words, it was a party, and in addition to that a successful one. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and it was as rowdy as a frat house on the first day back.

Harry and Hermione had talked about how all their old school-mates just had disappeared since the war ended and the world had started to make sense again. They thought that it would be nice to meet them, say hi, hear what their life was like now.

So, they came up with the idea about a party. A big party. Not just inviting the old Gryffindors, but also all those people they went to school with. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, too. And then they got in a bit of a disagreement; Harry wanted all of their old classmates, and Hermione said that the Slytherins could just shove it. He insisted that, in the spirit of the new world, everyone should have a chance to start over, and a party at his house, of all people, would be a great place to do it. At which Hermione answered that Slytherins were untrustworthy, insidious and unpleasant, and would be no fun at a party.

In the end Harry got as he wanted, since – as he put it – was his bloody house, and he's the host, so he got to invite whoever he liked. Hermione eventually agreed, stating that none of them would dare to come anyway.

Harry had thought about it for some time, and then started to compose a letter to no else than Draco Malfoy. He wrote about everybody starting a new life, and how, as far as he was concerned, everyone got a clean slate, no matter who they were during the war or what they did. It's all over now. A chance to do something with their lives. The two of them had a lot of bad blood between them and this was not a try for some mutual understanding all of a sudden, but maybe they could aim for civil at least? And this was not only a social call, it was also a wish for help. He wanted the Slytherins at the party, and if Malfoy would suggest for them to go, there would probably be at least a small group who actually attended.

He added the letter to the invitation everyone else got, and hoped for the best. First he was in doubt if it was a good idea to send it, since he got no answer from Malfoy. But as time went on he got, to his pleasure, a handful of Slytherins, including Malfoy, who accepted the invitation.

And now the party was up to speed, and everybody seemed to have a good time. The Slytherins were a bit reserved at the beginning, but after some time they actually dared to join the party too. There had been some acidic looks their way, especially from the Gryffindors, but that mostly subsided with time too.

Somewhere in the middle of the party two Gryffindors met in the hallway.

"I see that you've got something to drink, that's good." Hermione gestured at the other girl's glass.

"Yeah, I'm honestly not really sure what it is, but it's good." Ginny swirled the liquid around in the glass, coming alarming close to tip it over the edge. "Harry got it for me before he disappeared."

"Harry disappeared?" There was worry in her voice.

The read-head girl's face turned sour. "No, not disappeared like he's missing. More like... well... see for yourself. Up the stairs and to the right. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to ignore my boyfriend for a while, because I honestly think we'll both be happier that way." With a toss of her glossy head she turned around and headed back to the party.

Hermione was curious, what's going on? Was Ginny jealous? She took her glass and headed upstairs.

She poked her head into the usually spare room. And there Harry was, sitting in one of two chairs pulled up in the corner. His glass was standing on the small table between the chairs, and he was leaning in over the table with a focused face. All this was perfectly in order. But, in the other chair was Draco Malfoy, and that was really not in order. He seemed relaxed, and was tilting his head in an interested way, speaking to Harry with the same focus. She tried to hear what they were saying, but it was in vain. With a sigh she decided that Ginny had the right approach to it all, and without further ado, left the room again.

oOo

"But you need to have had some overlapping with Muggles. You've really never been to Muggle London?" Harry lifted his glass, taking a sip of amber-coloured liquid.

"Why should I? You don't seem to understand that I have nothing to gain from fraternising with Muggles. What can they possibly give me?" The disdain was clear, but in some way not as poisonous as it used to be.

"What about curiosity? Don't you ever wonder if they're as different as you believe they are?" Leaning on one elbow, Harry put down the glass. He should be angry, irritated and fed up with the Slytherin. Instead he found himself interested in his former enemy, excited even. But then again, maybe this is what happens when six years of school-boy hate turns to civility. All those feelings have to go somewhere, right?

"Curiosity? I don't know... Are you curious about the lives of pigeons?" There was some hesitation in his eyes. "You say that they drive those cars wherever they go? Paying so much money to take them the short distances? Nevermind, I take back what I said, not even pigeons are that stupid."

Harry looked up at him, surprised. Was that a joke? From Draco Malfoy? That didn't involve him in some immature, humiliating way?

"They did invent cars though. Aren't you the slightest bit curious about that kind of intelligence? It's complicated stuff, after all." Suddenly this was a game, and he could see the same competitiveness in the other boy's eyes. The feeling was like a swirl in his stomach, and he felt excitement rise from his ribcage, hammering in his chest, the same rush as he used to get on the Quidditch field before he left school

"You're trying to prove that Muggles are intelligent too? I don't know, they seem pretty stupid to me." Now the disdain in his eyes had got accompanied by something else, not necessarily nice, but definitely teasing.

Harry emptied his glass and put it down a little bit harder than he had to, giving the other boy an excusing look. "What about love? You can't tell me that they aren't exactly like us in that way."

"Well..." He looked hesitant now, but quickly turning dismissive. "What do I know about love?"

Victory rushed through his veins. Satisfied, he took a sip from his glass, just to realise that it was empty. "Hold that thought, I need to refill my glass. Should I fill yours up too?"

Malfoy emptied his glass in one and silently held it out. Harry suddenly felt something strain. Or, not quite 'strain', but definitely some kind of tension. Walking down the stairs he thought about the absurdness, him and Malfoy talking without wanting to hit the other.

He refilled their glasses and headed back up the stairs. Upon entering the room he stopped and studied his conversational partner. Malfoy was leaning on one of the arms of the chair, staring out in front of himself, obviously lost in thoughts. Starting to walk over to him he felt the same exhilaration rise again, with something else he couldn't really put his finger on.

Soon they were back in their discussion again, so deeply that he was surprised when the first guests came to say goodnight. Somewhere in the back of his head something told him that sitting in a corner with the most despised Slytherin of all the whole night wasn't really the best behaviour for a host, but he had so much fun that he couldn't help himself.

The first guests were follower by others, obviously the party was coming to an end. He supposed that it was late, but he felt wide awake, all of him sparking with his neutrons, and couldn't get himself to care.

There was a tense moment when Ginny turned up, declaring that she was going home now, and hopefully Harry would be interested in talking to her tomorrow. She turned on her heel and stormed out. Looking up at the Slytherin, he found amusement in the other's eyes. Without being able to stop himself he rolled his eyes and felt one of the corners of his mouth starting to twitch. Making fun of Ginny was not usually on his agenda, but tonight everything was a tad absurd, and honestly, what was she bitching about? Just because he had been a bit busy tonight? Some time later Hermione appeared in the doorway too, stating that she was the last one to go, and she bid them a good night. The look she gave them was a bit confused, and he couldn't blame her. If he was honest, he was too.

It took even more time, but finally a reluctant Malfoy stated that maybe he should be getting going too. Both walked down the stairs without a word until they reached the fireplace.

Harry stood silent, looking around and trying to find something to say. Anything really. The tension from before was back, this time with full strength, and he didn't dare to look at the other boy. What was happening, really? He saw in the corner of his eye how Malfoy took a step, not towards the fireplace, but towards him. The excitement inside him rose, and that other, undefined, feeling was tickling inside him, curling up to throb in his gut until he thought it would drive him mad. Then two things happened at the same time. The Slytherin took another step towards him, and he finally realised what kind of feeling that was.

Desire.

Taking a step forward he decimated the last of the space between them, ending up so close that they almost touched each other. He started to say something, but realised that there was really not so much to say right now, the time for talking was over.

Not thinking any more, just feeling, he put one hand on his guest's shoulder, and the other behind his head. He felt a pair of arms close around him, and when he pulled him close and put his lips against the other boy's it was just glorious. He marvelled over the soft lips pressed against his, and noticed a lingering taste of the firewhiskey they had been sipping all night.

And no, he had no intentions to stop. Sometimes his other thoughts tried to get through the lovely haze of pleasure, of Malfoy pressed against him, of his wandering hands. Those thoughts were very low in volume, and it was quite easy to drown them out with just another kiss. He wanted this, intensely, more than he wanted air. He wasn't sure how long they had been kissing when Malfoy leaned back a little.

"Does this nice house of yours come with a bed?"

o O o

A curious ray of late morning-sun searched its way through the room, and a drowsy Harry wondered why he hadn't closed the curtains last night.

Still almost sleeping, he turned around for some more sleep, just to find that there was someone else in the bed. Someone who was not Ginny.

Slowly, the day before started to come back. The party, their discussion, the kissing... what happened after. He remembered how wonderful it felt, how he craved it, all the excitement inside him, the need, the bliss, all of it. Looking at the sleeping boy he tried to think. There was a boy in his bed. Not that he had been recoiling from the thought earlier in his life, but he didn't think it would happen like this.

Now.

With this person.

There was a Malfoy in his bed. That was a more disturbing thought. Malfoy, who happened to be a boy, just like him, was sleeping in his bed, and not in an innocent way. No, it was honestly not important. Because important was who wasn't lying there. Ginny.

He now had two alternatives, and both of them sucked. He could be honest and tell Ginny about this... adventure. She would be extremely hurt, and insanely pissed off. There wouldn't be an end to the drama. The other alternative was to keep quiet about it all, shielding her from all the pain. Hopefully everything would be good then, and the only thing he had to fight was his own bad conscience. Well, no one in their right mind wanted to fight Ginny. Who actually could be here any moment now. For some reason that thought didn't give him the panic it should. He looked at his night guest again, willing some of the excitement from yesterday to surface. But no. It was as if he was locked out from yesterday's feelings, now left with only confusion and a little bit of shame. He had felt so much yesterday, but now it all seemed to be gone. It was probably best, and easiest, that way.

Getting out of bed he looked around for his clothes, finding his trousers on the floor. He put them on, and went back to the four-poster bed where Malfoy lay, huddled under the covers, face unguarded and innocent in sleep. Leaning over the Slytherin, he put a hand on his shoulder and shook it carefully.

"Malfoy? Malfoy, you have to leave."

A pair of tired, grey eyes met his. The owner observed him in silence for a moment, and then started to scan the floor for his clothes.

"I'll be in the drawing room," Harry told him, scurrying out of his bedroom.

Harry managed to get himself to the kitchen, a bit slow after the party, but he succeeded in making some coffee. Taking his cup with him, he went to the drawing room and threw himself down in a big armchair. It was comfortable, and for a moment he forgot all about the night. A noise from above reminded him, and he flew back from his bubble of oblivion. He started thinking about what happened after the party was over.

It had started earlier, he saw that now. That strange tension between them, now he can see it for what it was. He knew, logically, that he should regret it, feel all distressed over cheating on his girlfriend, but he just...didn't. Yesterday was a very nice memory, something he sure didn't want to be without. Today it was over, probably for the best, but yesterday it was fantastic.

Steps on the stairs broke his thoughts, but they kept going past the door, and in the direction of the kitchen, where the floo was located. After a little while he could hear the woosh of the floo, and knew that Malfoy was gone. He heaved a sigh of relief, he didn't realise how much he had dreaded small talking with him this morning.

But deep down something stung. He didn't even say goodbye. Maybe it wasn't really disappointment, but something did hurt.