Draco's schedule as a formation flier has him out of town on Valentine's Day, leaving poor Harry all alone—or so he thinks. Features scheming children, cheesy poetry, parseltongue, and fluffy banana-flavoured love. One-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or locations and I am not making any money. The only thing that belongs to me is my warped imagination.
Warnings: A lot of fluff, a little smut; meddlesome children; condom-related humour.
A/N: This is a sequel to my previous fic, Flight Plan, from Harry's POV this time. It makes much more sense if you read the other one first. I wasn't planning on writing any more in that setting; the original story felt done to me. But I really, really adore these lovely men, and, well, it is Valentine's Day, after all. I couldn't resist.
Harry was morose. It was the first Valentine's Day in years that he actually had someone, and they couldn't even spend the day together. He mentally hexed himself for suggesting to Draco that one of the advantages of having a famous boyfriend was using his name to try out with the Winged Wolves formation fliers. Training schedules being what they were, it meant being apart and watching everyone else snog each other silly on every sidewalk.
He tried not to sigh pathetically while he wrapped yet another copy of Flight of Fancy, the steamy new romance every witch wanted to get her hands on. The half-naked Quidditch player on the cover smirked in a way that reminded Harry forcefully of his absent lover. He glared back at the book.
Harry was trying to keep busy. He planned to spend the day in the shop and then go back to his summer house in Hogsmeade. He had very little desire to find out what Kreacher was up to with the house-elf he'd been courting; that was a lesson in non-human mating he decided he could do without.
At five minutes past noon, the bell over the door tinkled, and Hermione walked in.
"I need a favour," she said without preamble.
Harry scowled. Of course she needed a favour. She couldn't just leave him to be miserable in peace. He tried, and failed, to keep the irritation out of his voice when he said, "What kind of favour?"
"Well..." She hesitated when she saw his expression, but Harry gestured that she should continue. "It's just that—well, you don't have plans tonight, and it's been a really long time since Ron and I had time alone and...can you watch the kids tonight?" Her voice had gotten smaller as she spoke until it was barely a squeak and the words rushed out.
Harry sighed. He knew she was right. There was no good reason for him to deny her request. Anyone else who might stay with Rose and Hugo was likely paired off and already had plans. Wankers, he thought bitterly then realised that was exactly what they wouldn't be.
"All right," he said.
"Thank you! Can you come by around six?"
"Yeah. Fine."
On her way out, Hermione shot him a sympathetic glance before she let the door close behind her. Harry groaned. It was going to be a long night.
Harry closed the shop early so he could go home and have a long, hot, self-pitying shower before going to Ron and Hermione's house. He was so thoroughly depressed he couldn't even bring himself to have a wank while imagining Draco naked and covered in chocolate. He decided life was just not fair sometimes.
Forty-five minutes later, he found himself bidding his friends good night and following Rose into the living room to play board games. When Harry was in the middle of losing his third game of wizard checkers, there was a light tapping on the window.
Rose, wearing a mischievous grin, opened the window to let in the haughty eagle owl. She untied the note.
"It's for you, Uncle Harry." She passed over the note.
Harry took it, puzzled that he would be receiving mail whilst babysitting. He grew even more confused when he read the note. It said only, Madam Puddifoot's, 6:45. Harry conjured his inner Draco and raised one eyebrow at Rose. She shrugged.
"What's it say?" She was clearly not going to explain.
"It says I need to be at Madam Puddifoot's in fifteen minutes."
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go." She dragged Hugo away from stacking blocks into the shape of Hogwarts and fished their cloaks out of their rooms. She stood by the door, tapping her foot until Harry had assembled himself properly.
It was raining, so Harry cast a few charms to keep them all warm and dry. The last thing he needed was to have Hermione berate him for letting the children catch a chill. He forgot to charm his glasses, however; by the time they arrived at Madam Puddifoot's he could barely see.
Inside, he determined that he was glad he was too busy wiping off his glasses to pay attention to the happy couples gazing into one another's eyes.
Rose tugged him over to a table where three steaming cups were waiting for them: cocoa for the children, coffee for Harry. He suppressed a sigh. He wasn't in the mood to be surrounded by the sight and sound of kissing. He frowned down into his cup, but he didn't pick it up.
"You have to drink it," Hugo informed him.
Harry was startled out of his misery. Hugo, usually a boy of few words and not particularly bossy, was watching him expectantly. Tentatively, Harry took a sip.
The coffee was quite good, and it didn't take long for Harry to finish it. Just as he was about to set the cup down, it transfigured in his hand. Startled, he almost dropped the little bird that now sat in his palm.
The bird began to chirp, and as it did so, it unravelled into a piece of parchment that fluttered onto the table. Harry picked it up and read out loud, "'Roses are red, violets are blue. Go to the Three Broomsticks for your next clue'." He glanced up at Rose and Hugo, both of whom were giggling madly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "All right, you two. What's going on?"
Rose's face crumpled. "You don't like your surprise."
Harry softened. He took Rose's hand and said, "I do. I'm just confused, love. Can you tell me more?"
Rose sat up straighter and put on her most serious grown-up face. "Mum said we should be sure to cheer you up because you're missing Uncle Draco. So, that's what we're doing."
Harry laughed. "All right, then. Take me to our next destination."
Rose brightened and hopped out of her seat. She was practically dancing on the spot waiting for Harry and Hugo to collect themselves. He charmed their cloaks again, this time remembering his glasses, too. The three of them stepped back out into the rain.
Inside the Three Broomsticks, it was less crowded as well as less cheerfully romantic. Harry nearly breathed a sigh of relief until he caught sight of Kellen Bundy leaning against the bar, two ribbon-adorned bottles of butterbeer next to him and—
Hang on, Harry thought. Is that a banana in his hand?
Kel also had a bright-red bow affixed to the front of his robes. Harry groaned and ran a hand over his face when Kel caught his eye and motioned him over.
"Please tell me you're not a gift for me," Harry said when he reached Kel's spot at the bar.
"Sadly not," Kel replied. "But you're to have a drink with me whilst you open your next clue."
Harry glanced at the children, wondering if this was appropriate or not and how angry Hermione would be when she found out. He decided they were likely too young to understand the innuendo, and at this point, it didn't matter anyway. They found a table near the back of the room.
The minute Harry finished his drink, Rose was all over him to find out the next clue. "I'll bet it's inside the banana," she said.
Harry resisted the urge to reply, "I'll just bet it is." Instead, he reached for the offending fruit and began to peel it. At his touch, the banana opened by itself to reveal not the flesh of the fruit but a rolled-up parchment. Kel sniggered, and Harry glared at him.
Harry unrolled the parchment. It wasn't quite as elegant a poem this time. It read, To market, to market, to buy a fat hog; go to the Hog's Head, jiggity jog. Harry snorted.
"It was good seeing you," Kel said with a grin. Harry just nodded and followed the children out of the Three Broomsticks.
Unlike the Three Broomsticks, the Hog's Head was packed. There was a live band playing, and Harry's head was buzzing within twenty seconds of entering. He grabbed hold of Rose and Hugo and proceeded to fight his way through the dancing couples to get to the bar.
Blaise had to shout to make himself heard over the music. "Harry! I've got something for you." He pulled a box of expensive chocolates and a bottle of wine out from under the bar. There was a roll of parchment tied to the wine with a green satin ribbon. Harry accepted them with a sad smile. At least Draco had made the effort to send him something nice for Valentine's Day.
Ginny stepped out from the little office behind the bar. "Oh, hey, Harry," she said.
He smiled faintly at her and reached for the note on the wine bottle. Naturally, it was another poem. He was surprised to see that it was written in Hermione's neat script. It said, Bring the chocolates, bring the wine, make your way to the Shrieking Shack by quarter til nine. Harry shook his head, wondering what on earth Hermione would want with him at the Shrieking Shack and what he was going to do with Rose and Hugo when he went.
Ginny, who had been reading over his shoulder, must have picked up on his thoughts. "It's okay, Rose and Hugo will be staying here with us. They're allowed to stay up and have some fun, and we'll keep them overnight." She glanced at the clock. "You'd better get going."
Harry looked at Rose and Hugo, both of whom were grinning ear to ear. "Will the pair of you be all right with Aunt Ginny and Uncle Blaise?"
"Honestly, Uncle Harry. Of course we'll be fine," Rose said in her most superior tone of voice. Harry couldn't help smiling at how much she sounded like her mother.
He gave each of them a kiss, thanked Blaise and Ginny again, and gathered up his gifts. He was genuinely curious as to what Hermione had planned. Although he knew she and Ron needed some time alone, he secretly hoped that his friends had arranged to spend some time with him first. It had been a while since they had been able to have an evening together without at least Ron and Hermione's children if not several other small Weasleys.
Harry found his way inside the fence surrounding the Shrieking Shack. There was a welcoming light coming from inside that warmed Harry. He sighed, thinking that he owed his friends for making sure he didn't have to be alone that night.
Just as he reached the Shack, Hermione and Ron stepped outside. Hermione enveloped Harry in a hug. "Go on in, Harry. Everything's ready and there's a surprise in there for you."
"You're not staying?" Harry asked, genuinely perplexed.
"Sorry, mate, but this isn't something we want to stick around for," Ron said, grinning. Hermione gave him a little shove.
"Okay," Harry replied, disappointed.
"Don't worry," Hermione whispered as Harry passed her. "You'll enjoy this." She smiled at him and took Ron's hand. They Apparated away, leaving Harry not quite daring to hope but with his heart beating faster anyway.
Slowly, Harry turned the knob on the door. It creaked open. He stepped in and peered around, taking in the whole room. He stared in wonder at the way the room had been transformed. There were plush chairs surrounding a low table on which a marvellous spread was laid out. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and there were candles everywhere. But the best part by far was the bed on one side of the room. It was adorned with thick, soft blankets in green and gold, and it was hung with velvet curtains.
The curtains were tied back to reveal Draco Malfoy, stretched out in the middle and smirking as though he had just won a prize—or perhaps as though he was the prize.
With a yell, Harry ran at the bed and tackled Draco. He couldn't refrain from kissing every part of Draco not covered by his clothing, which suddenly seemed like far too little. He began pulling eagerly at Draco's shirt.
"Calm down, love, you're going to ruin the fabric," Draco drawled.
"Don't care," Harry mumbled, his face buried in Draco's neck. "Fuck, you smell good." Vanilla and citrus and something like…bananas? Huh.
"Such language." Draco chuckled. "It's good to see you too."
"Less talking. More kissing."
Draco appeared to be more than willing to oblige. Harry had restrained himself enough to divest Draco of his clothing more carefully. Meanwhile, Draco, between kisses, was doing the same to Harry. In no time the last of their clothes lay in a heap on the floor.
Harry ran both his hands and his eyes up and down Draco's body. He had missed this in the weeks they had been apart. Draco rolled Harry onto his back and began to make a path with his lips and tongue from Harry's neck down his chest and across his stomach. When he had reached Harry's navel, Harry thrust upward and tried to move Draco's head lower. He heard Draco say in a low voice, "Wait."
Harry looked down to meet Draco's eyes. There was heat and lust written there, but also something else—something unfamiliar: Draco looked mischievous.
"What?" Harry asked.
Draco shook his head. "Accio," he muttered, and something small flew into his hand.
"What is that?"
Draco held it up and Harry recognised the small square. "It's a condom," Draco informed Harry. "It goes on your—"
"I know what it is!" Harry snapped. "That's not the type we usually use."
Draco grinned. "Nope." He handed it to Harry, who was barely able to restrain his laughter when he saw it up close.
"Oh. My. God. Where the hell did you find this?" Kel's gift suddenly made much more sense.
Draco shrugged. "I ordered it. Now, shall I put it on you, or are you going to do it yourself?"
Still amused, Harry handed the condom back. Draco leered up at him before opening the packet and taking Harry's erection in his hand. Slowly but with practised ease, he rolled the condom on, then lowered his mouth to take Harry inside. It didn't take much before Draco had Harry arching off the bed and hissing all the dirty things he wanted to do to Draco in return. He felt Draco's gasp and the knowledge that he had caused such a reaction sent shivers up Harry's spine. He was vaguely aware that Draco was touching himself while he employed the skills of his lips and tongue to send Harry over the edge.
Harry relaxed into the mattress and waited for his breathing to slow. When he had settled, he pulled Draco up and held him close. He slid his hand between Draco's legs then leaned in and put his mouth next to Draco's ear. He heard the hitch in Draco's breath and gave a low hiss that wasn't genuine parseltongue but had the desired effect anyway.
"Oh, God."
In parseltongue, Harry whispered, No, it's just me, and he laughed softly as Draco almost whined in response. With a final hiss and a twist of his hand, Harry brought Draco to his release.
Draco collapsed into Harry's side, their arms still around one another. Harry said, "Next time I want you inside me."
"All right," Draco murmured. "After we sleep and maybe have something to eat."
"Definitely," Harry agreed.
They kissed lightly for a few moments, and then Harry lay back down with Draco's head on his chest. He slid his fingers lazily through Draco's fine blond hair and let his eyes drift closed. Through his post-orgasmic haze, he heard Draco mumble something. "Hm?" Harry asked.
His voice tinged with sleepiness, Draco repeated, "I said, the banana was all right, but I think next time I'd prefer to try the strawberry."
They drifted into sleep with the sound of Harry's quiet laughter still humming in their ears.