When Harry awoke the following morning, it was to the smell of sex and an empty bed. Harry listened carefully, hoping that Draco was downstairs or in the bathroom, but to no avail; the house was silent. Looking around, he noticed that Draco's scattered clothes were gone, but there was hope. A cup of tea sat seaming on the bedside table, obviously under a Warming Charm, with a note propped up in front of it.
Harry,
Sorry to disappear on you; I had an early meeting. I didn't want to wake you—you looked so peaceful! I'll pop into the café after my meeting.
Thanks for a great night,
Draco x
Harry smiled and picked up the cuppa, taking a sip. Harry had to wonder how Draco knew how he took his tea, but then he realised that Pansy's gossiping probably ran both ways.
Harry let thoughts of Pansy disappear as he thought over the night before. Was it really that great? Harry decided that, yes, it had been that great, and he was going to do everything in his power to make it happen again. Shifting in the sticky sheets, Harry grimaced. Everything in his power would have to wait until after a shower.
After finishing his cuppa, Harry showered and stripped the sheets himself. He did not want Kreacher dealing with them. The old house-elf had lost his barb over the years, but he seemed to have replaced it with a burning need to tease and humiliate Harry at every chance he got.
When Harry had work, he usually just threw on whatever clothes were nearest to him and walked straight out of the door. It was different now; after his shower, Harry spent a good twenty minutes deciding what to wear.
At eight o'clock, Harry Apparated to the entrance to Diagon Alley and took a slow walk to the café. As he neared the shop, his heart started beating fast—the front door was wide open. Drawing his wand, Harry carefully entered the open door.
"Pansy!" he cried on seeing his friend sitting at the counter, flipping through a magazine. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm working today," Pansy replied, sounding bored and not looking up from Witch Weekly.
"It's barely quarter past eight," Harry explained, confused. "I've never seen you before nine. The shop isn't even open!"
Pansy mumbled something containing the word 'Draco' under her breath and flipped through the pages more forcefully.
"What was that?" Harry asked, grinning. He had his suspicions.
"I said," Pansy looked up from her magazine. Harry didn't like the glint of her eye. "How did it go last night?"
Harry had to stop himself from laughing. "You went to see Draco first thing; he wouldn't tell you anything so you thought you'd try me?"
Pansy stuck her tongue out and discarded her magazine completely. She propped her elbows up on the counter and dropped her chin into her hands. "So..."
Harry did laugh at that. He mimed zipping his lips and Pansy looked confused. "Get your thrills elsewhere. You're not getting anything out of me."
"From the way Draco looked when I saw him," Pansy said with a cheeky smile, "I don't think you said the same to him."
Harry blushed and threw a tea-towel at her. "Seeing as you're here, you can make yourself useful."
Pansy looked scandalised before tying on her apron and getting to work. After many more attempts by Pansy to elicit tales of the date, Harry realised something. Something he thought was very important.
"He really didn't tell you anything?" he finally asked her.
"No," Pansy replied with a pout. "It's weird. Usually he Fire-calls me when he gets home after a date."
Harry blushed. Pansy looked a strange combination of scandalised and gleeful.
"You didn't?"
Harry nodded very slightly.
"On your first date? I was only joking earlier! Really?"
Harry threw the closest thing to hand at her. It wasn't Harry's fault that that happened to be a treacle tart.
Word of Harry's date with Draco must've spread around their circle of friends. Ginny, Hermione, Blaise and even Ron had popped into the shop throughout the morning, each trying their best to get some information out of him. It seemed that Draco was more tight-lipped than anyone had given him credit for.
Before he knew it, Harry was facing the usual lunchtime rush. Harry had been expecting Draco to come in, as he had said as much in his note—the note that was now safely stashed with the rest of Harry's favourite things in the second drawer down in the kitchen—but he hadn't yet. Thoughts of Draco were put aside, as the café was busier than usual. Harry barely had time to stop for a breath; he had no time whatsoever to actually think.
Harry had just finished cleaning up after serving a very fussy customer, who had caused him to spill coffee all over himself, the counter and the floor, when Pansy's screeching "Draco!" made him want to run to the nearest door.
Why couldn't he have come in this morning, when he was smartly dressed and clean? Why did he have to come in when Harry was tired and messy and covered in god-only-knows-what?
"Pansy," Draco greeted calmly as Harry tried to covertly clean himself up, "how nice to hear your dulcet tones this afternoon. Harry," Draco looked at him with warmth in his eyes, "hi."
"Hi," Harry greeted in return. "Cuppa?"
Draco smiled and nodded while Pansy made kissy noises behind them.
"So," Pansy began, "are you ever going to spill the beans on last night?"
"No," Harry and Draco said at the same time.
Pansy huffed and stormed out to the back of the shop. Harry handed Draco his cuppa, and put a pecan pie on a plate for him, leaning over the counter for a quick kiss while he did so.
"Dinner, tonight?" he asked once Draco had taken his seat.
Draco hastily swallowed the bit of pastry he had bitten off. "I'd love to," he answered. "Where do you want to go?"
"My house," Harry said, quickly holding his hand up and fighting down a blush as Draco raised an eyebrow at his words. "No. I'll cook."
xxx
Date followed date, and soon Harry and Draco were soon inseparable. They still continued to join their friends for regular nights out, but they spent most evenings together alone. Harry had never been so happy, and Draco had admitted to Harry—after one two many Elephants on Tightropes—that he had never thought he could have been so happy with anyone.
Their friends joked and teased them about all the years of hatred turning into a different type of passion, and Harry found it hard pressed to disagree with them. He and Draco had talked about it early on in their relationship, discussing what it might have been like if they had been friends in school. They had finally admitted that neither of them would've changed a thing, as they wouldn't be the people they were without the lived they had led. Draco had insisted that he wouldn't have used so much hair gel in his younger years, but that was about it.
Of course, Harry being who he was, and Draco's father being what he was, the press soon found out about their relationship and Harry and Draco found themselves plastered on the front of every wizarding publication.
They had only been together for a matter of months when the first article appeared. It was—predictably—The Prophet, but soon they were inundated with requests for quotes or interviews from every newspaper in print. Harry and Draco refused adamantly, but that didn't stop the daily barrage of owls, or the articles.
Some of the more disreputable newspapers and magazines published a couple of rather unflattering rumours of how their relationship had started. There was talk of it just being a 'publicity stunt', and even a few murmurs of something dark that the Malfoy family has orchestrated. Harry took great delight in returning their owls with a few choice words written by his wordier boyfriend.
The more light-hearted publications—namely, The Quibbler—wrote about their 'true love' and how it had conquered all. Harry was very surprised to walk into the café one morning to see that one framed and pinned to the wall above the till. Pansy denied all knowledge, and Harry hadn't been able to remove the Sticking Charm.
As a result of their new found fame as the 'in couple' of the wizarding world, Harry and Draco had been hard pushed to find somewhere to go out for dinner in peace, and Harry's house had been turned into a no-go area. After all, how was anyone supposed to have a nice romantic evening with the press camped outside, banging on the door or ringing the bell every five minutes? Harry had threatened them with the Aurors, but they had had the nerve to laugh at him. Apparently, there was no law against ringing a doorbell. Harry thought he might have to do something about that. Draco had hexed the damn thing, but apparently there was a law about harming door-to-door salespeople.
Harry and Draco had taken to eating out in Muggle restaurants, and Harry had even conceded to visiting Malfoy Manor for dinner on a couple of occasions; after ensuring that Lucius Malfoy had rid himself of thoughts of killing Harry, of course.
The dinners with the Malfoy family hadn't been as bad as Harry had been expecting. High-bred manners had won out over Lucius' obvious distaste for Harry's relationship with Draco. Harry had already won over Narcissa; she thought that Harry was a 'charming young man' and a 'perfect companion for Draco'. Lucius, on the other hand, still needed quite a bit more work.
After once again trampling over the press as he popped down the shop for some milk—Saviour Makes Lover a Cuppa, had been the headline—Harry decided to look for a new house. As much as he had tried to make Grimmauld Place liveable again, it simply couldn't be done. Kreacher, surprisingly, had accepted the move easily. Harry thought that the fact that he was seeing a Malfoy had greased the wheels somewhat. As did the constant need for dusting. Harry had discovered that while a great cook, Kreacher disliked dusting with a passionate hatred usually reserved for clothes and SPEW.
It was with a heavy sigh, that Harry sent the owl off to Zach. Harry knew that he would probably now have to allow Zach to join their group on their nights out, but it was a small price to pay for an estate agent that he trusted.
When the 'For Sale' sign was first put on the side of the house, Harry had been inundated with calls. He directed all their calls to Zach, but Zach was ambitious. He wanted to make the sale, so he showed up at Harry's door with everybody that enquired about the house. Of course, most of the callers weren't at all interested in the house, but the occupant. Harry—or Draco—had never been gawped at so much. Harry had finally relented and given Zach a key, insisting that he show people around when he and Draco were out at work.
While the sale of Grimmauld Place was still ongoing, Harry kept up the search for a new house. Harry had asked Draco for help, but Draco had insisted that it was Harry's choice alone. Harry had almost asked him to buy a new house together, but—after discussion with all of their friends—he had determined that it was much too soon in their relationship. Zach owled almost hourly with brochures of houses and developments. Harry was overwhelmed, but he needed to make a decision, and soon.
The Minister for Magic, having worked with Muggles before, had started adapting a few Muggle ideas for the wizarding world. One of these was the Muggle tradition of placing a blue plaque on the wall of 'houses of interest'. With the new blue plaque attached beside his front door, Harry's house price had shot up and, surprisingly, so did the number of actual buyers.
Zach had promised that Grimmauld Place would be sold within the week. He had mentioned bidding wars or something, but Harry hadn't taken much notice; Draco had been eating a banana at the time. Harry had a couple more houses to look at, and then he was giving up. He'd have to sleep in the shop; he'd had enough.
xxx
"Are you ready, yet?" Harry called up the stairs.
"Nearly. Have you seen my spare socks?"
Harry rolled his eyes and, with a swish of his wand, sent the balled up socks that were on the coffee table up towards Draco. It was a Saturday, and they had had a late night, so they were not very awake—especially Draco. They were supposed to be seeing another house this morning, and Zach was expected very soon. Harry had finally persuaded Draco to go with him; he had explained how Draco alone could help him judge if they could fit two people into the bathtub.
As Draco finally appeared at the top of the stairs, the front door opened.
"Zach," Harry said, shocked. "I gave you that key for you to show the house when we were out; not for when I'm here. I nearly had a heart attack."
"Sorry, Harry," Zach gushed. "I didn't think. Are you ready to..."
He trailed off as Draco walked down the stairs and stood beside Harry.
"Yes," Draco said with a smile. "We're ready to go."
Zach looked flustered for a second before he plastered a grin on his face and handed Harry a piece of paper. "The address. I'll Apparate myself, then," he said before turning and walking straight back out of the door.
Harry looked at Draco and shrugged. Draco rolled his eyes and took hold of Harry's arm. "I'll do the Apparating, if you don't mind. We don't want a repeat of the warehouse fiasco."
Harry poked his tongue out. "It was one time! And it was months ago," he said, giving Draco the address anyway.
Draco laughed and Disapparated them both.
xxx
"To Harry's new house!" the entire table chorused as Harry blushed and tried to hide behind his pint.
Harry and Draco were sat around a table in their usual pub, surrounded by their friends. They were celebrating Harry finally finding a new place to live.
He and Draco had taken one look at the house—and the bathtub—and Harry had signed the paperwork the same day. It was perfect: the size, the location, the security. It needed some decorating, but nothing that Harry couldn't handle. It was exactly what he was looking for. Why Zach hadn't shown it to him earlier, Harry would never know.
"Zach, why did it take you so long to show Harry this place?" Draco asked.
Ah, so maybe Harry would know.
"You know," Zach answered with a blush forming on his face, "saving the best until last and all that."
Harry was confused. It was exactly what he'd been looking for; it was exactly what Harry had asked Zach to find for him. Why had he shown Harry around all of the crap houses first? That thought went out of his mind when Draco suddenly turned, grabbed Harry by the shoulders and kissed him fully.
Laughing breathlessly as Draco pulled away, Harry asked, "What was that for?"
Draco shrugged. "Felt like it," he simply said with a cheeky grin on his face.
A loud cough brought their attention back to their friends. Harry was used to the fond looks he usually received from Hermione and Ginny after he and Draco showed affection in public, or the teasing winks he usually got from Pansy. Ron, Blaise and the other men of the group just didn't seem to care; they simply carried on their conversation. Harry was shocked to see the sheer look of disdain on Zach's face.
Ron must have noticed as well as he smacked him in the arm. "What's up with you? Surely you've seen these two at it before? You got a problem with it?"
"No! Of course not," Zach replied quickly, shaking his head. "I'm just feeling unwell. I think I'll call it a night. Harry, I'll owl you tomorrow. Goodnight."
"What?" Harry asked as he noticed everyone looking at him after Zach had left. "What's the matter?"
Draco squeezed his thigh under the table and shook his head. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" Harry asked, looking around at his friends' faces.
"If you don't know," Pansy began, but Harry cut her off.
"Piss off," he said, laughing.
One drink turned into two, which turned into God-only-knows-how-many. Every one of the group had work the next day, but no one seemed in a hurry to leave the pub. Sometimes even the most impromptu of nights out turned into great evenings. Pansy was in the middle of recounting one of her tales of a weekend with one of her boy toys, and the entire table was laughing at her story. Harry couldn't help but join in the laughter as she described—through her giggles—the poor boy's love of her feet.
"Well, we all have our kinks, don't we?"
Harry stopped laughing and nearly choked on his drink at Draco's words. He really didn't like the devilish look on his boyfriend's face.
"Ooh!" Ginny was practically rubbing her hands together in glee. "Do tell. I'd love to know what poor Harry has to put up with."
"Oh, it's not me." Draco sat back in his chair and looked sideways at Harry
"Draco!" Harry cried, laughing as he tried to clamp his hand over Draco's mouth to shut him up.
Draco smirked as Hermione swished her wand, causing Harry to fly back into his chair.
"Inquiring minds need to know," she said, turning, once again, to face Draco.
"Horny women need a thrill more like," Harry mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Well, you all know about his thing for this," Draco said, pointing at his crotch.
"Draco!"
"The belt, Harry."
"Oh, yes. That." Harry blushed and sat back in his chair.
"Tell us something we don't know," Pansy demanded, drumming her fingers on the table.
Harry stifled another laugh as he noticed that the girls were all sat forward slightly, obviously desperate for any bit of gossip. Even Blaise and Ron had stopped talking about whatever it was they were talking about. Harry didn't know what Draco was going to say. Not that he minded; he hadn't been shy about these things for a long time. Not since—Oh, fuck! Harry thought as his and Draco first time ran through his head. Not that. Anything but that.
"Yes, you all know about the belt thing. What you don't know is that our dear Harry here has a thing for—" With a flourish, Draco lifted his sleeve up. "—this."
Shit. Dropping his face into his hands, Harry listened for the gasps of horror from their friends. When he heard no such noises, Harry reluctantly looked up. He was shocked to see the girls peering at Draco's Mark, and looking between each other. He was expecting Hermione to talk about symbolism or something similar, but instead it was Ginny that spoke.
"Yeah, I can see that."
Pansy and Hermione nodded, and Harry couldn't help it—he laughed. Draco grabbed hold of Harry's chair and dragged it towards him.
"My kinky hero," he whispered against Harry's lips before kissing him fully.
Harry ignored the catcalls and kissed him back.
"Who wants to hear Nev's worst?" Ginny said after the laughter had died down.
Harry rolled his eyes, smiled at Draco and turned to listen. From the last story Ginny had told them, Harry hadn't thought that the demure professor could get any worse. Harry wondered what Neville would think if he knew exactly what secrets his girlfriend spilled when she'd had more than a few glasses of wine.
"Well, one weekend when he was home," Ginny began, and Harry ran his finger lightly over Draco's forearm before giving her his full attention.
xxx
As Harry closed the door on the final customer of the day, he looked around and smiled. Harry didn't think his life could get any better. He had his café, his friends, a brilliant boyfriend and now his new house. What more could he want?
His relationship with Draco wasn't perfect. They had arguments nearly every day, but it kept it interesting. Draco left a trail of destruction—clothes, towels, paperwork—wherever he went, but Harry didn't care. He had Kreacher to clean up after him. But they made sure to never go to bed angry with each other, and they loved to spend time together. Maybe it was perfect.
Harry swished his wand, turning the volume on the wireless up as he cleaned around the cafe, righting tables and chairs and setting the brush to sweep the floor. He sang a song that had been played to death on the wireless; a song about having somebody like you. Harry knew the damn words by heart. The volume of his voice rose as Harry washed the dishes—by hand; it was so much more satisfying than magic—and he didn't hear the tingle of the bell above the door.
Harry jumped when strong arms wrapped around him from behind, sending soapy bubbles flying all over the small kitchen. "Draco," he said, relaxing immediately once he recognised the arms holding him. Harry flicked the wireless off and turned in Draco's arms, smiling as he looked at his boyfriend.
"Hi, love" Draco said before kissing Harry.
Harry smiled. He and Draco had finally declared their love for one another, and Harry had to suppress his glee at the causal way that Draco said it to him now.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, wrapping himself more securely in Draco's arms. "I thought you had to work late."
"Hermione sent me home," he answered. "Apparently, I look like shit and need some sleep."
Harry couldn't agree more with his best friend. "You have been working too much."
"Hm." Draco nuzzled into Harry's shoulder. "So I thought I'd come and see if you fancied an early night."
"I'd love to, but Zach is coming over. He said he'll help me decorate. He has a flair for it, or so he says."
"He's got a flair for something," Draco mumbled into Harry's neck. "Can I tag along?"
"Of course. You can help me pick up the colours. You do spend as much time there as me." Harry laughed and lifted Draco's chin. "But then, we're having an early night. And I mean sleep."
Draco grumbled, but the smile underneath his tired face told him that Draco really didn't mind.
"Sit down," Harry told Draco. "I'll make us some food before we leave."
Draco smiled and did as he was told. Harry busied himself with making some sandwiches, still humming that blasted tune.
After they'd eaten, and Harry had once again cleared up, Harry pulled Draco close to him. "Do the honours?"
Draco laughed. "Of course. I do love Apparating in one piece."
Harry's usual rebuttal of 'it was one time!' was lost in the crack of Apparition. They arrived outside the house to find Zack sitting on the doorstep, bag of takeaway in one hand, and bottle of wine in the other.
"Zach, hi," Harry greeted. "I didn't think we were late."
Zach had a strange expression on his face. Harry couldn't decide whether it was annoyance, exasperation or anger. When he thought over Zach's recent behaviour, Harry thought it might be all three. He would have to have a talk with him. Zach seemed to be perfectly happy when around Harry, but when anybody else turned up, he'd turn quite sullen.
"No, I'm just early." Zach smiled, but Harry could tell it wasn't a real one. "I wasn't expecting anybody else; I only bought enough takeaway for two."
"It's okay," Draco said, using his own key to open the house. "We've already eaten."
Once they were settled in the living room, Harry called Kreacher to get some plates and cutlery for Zach.
"Don't bother," Zach told the house-elf. "I'm not hungry any more. Fancy some wine?"
Harry looked at the bottle and couldn't help but grimace. He was no wine connoisseur, but after months of dining with Draco, he had picked up a few preferences. And a Chardonnay was not one of them; especially not after that night at Pansy's. "Sorry, mate, I'm going to have to pass. I'll be bad after drinking that."
"It's all right," Draco said with a smile. "I bought some Pinot Noir for you the other day. Kreacher!"
"Yes, Mister Malfoy," Kreacher said at once, popping in from nowhere and bowing so low that his ears were touching the carpet.
"Can you fetch Master Harry's wine?"
Kreacher disappeared instantly, but was soon back with Harry's favourite wine in his hand.
"Thanks," Harry said, grabbing some glasses off the sideboard and pouring a glass for him and Draco. "Zach, would you like me to open your bottle for you?"
"No, thanks," Zach replied, standing up and picking up his wine and bag of food. "I've just remembered, I've forgotten my colour books. Can we meet another time?"
Harry nodded, confused. He had been sure that the book-shaped bulge in Zach's jacket pocket was the shrunken copies he'd seen before. "No problem. I'll see you out."
As Harry shut the door behind Zach, he felt arms snake around his waist and Draco place his chin on Harry's shoulder.
"Bed?"
"Bed."
xxx
Harry had finally come to a decision: he was going to ask Draco to move in with him. He had thought long and hard about it, but had decided that it was time; he couldn't think of an argument against it. Draco already spent most of his free time with Harry, and slept in Harry's bed more often than not. Harry just hoped that Draco agreed that it was the right next step for them.
"Is tonight the night, then?"
Pansy's question drew Harry out of his thoughts and straight back into his—thankfully customer-free—café. Harry had been talking her ear off all week on the subject. They were sat at the counter of the café; the teatime rush had been and gone and they were enjoying the last of the warm summer with the door open.
"Huh?"
"Very articulate. Are you going to ask him tonight?"
"I don't know. I think so. Maybe. Anyway, what's it to do with you?"
"Draco's my best friend; you're my best fr-boss."
Harry smiled at her near slip. He knew she counted him as one of her closest friends, just as he did her. It didn't stop her from trying to hide it. "And?"
"I just want you to be happy."
"You just want to be the first to know," Harry said with a grin. "You grumbled for weeks when you had to hear about our holiday plans from Ginny."
"Yes, well. Draco should have told me."
"Draco should have told you what?"
Harry turned towards the door on hearing his boyfriend's voice. "Hi, love," he said automatically, blushing slightly when he realised he'd used the endearment in front of other people.
"Hi, you." Draco smiled. "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing much," Harry replied before Pansy could spoil it. "Pansy's just in need of some gossip."
Harry slid off his stool to go and fetch Draco a cuppa, pausing on the way past to snatch a quick kiss.
"I have some gossip for you," Draco said casually, taking the steaming mug from Harry and taking a sip. "Apparently, the great Harry Potter is cheating on his gorgeous, rich, well-endowed boyfriend."
Harry dropped his own cup in shock. Pansy fell off her stool.
"What?" Harry said once he'd regained the ability to speak. He completely ignored the pool of tea spreading over the floor.
Draco laughed. "I know. It shocked me as well."
"Draco," Harry began, walking around the counter to get to him, "I would never—"
Draco shut him up with a kiss. "I know that, you pillock. It's the who you were cheating with that confirmed it."
"What the actual fuck are you talking about, Draco Malfoy?" Pansy had pulled herself up from the floor and was standing with her hands on her hips. "And don't you dare leave one fucking word out."
Harry couldn't agree with her more. "Draco?"
"I was in work, getting a cuppa from the canteen, when some little pimply kid came bounding up to me; Merlin, you'd think he'd won the Prize Draw, the way his face was lit up. He said he had some bad news for me, and handed me this."
Draco took a copy of the Daily Prophet from his pocket and spread it out on the counter. Both Harry and Pansy immediately leaned forward to read it.
"Harry Potter finally free of Death Eater's clutches?" Harry read aloud. "What the—?"
"Read on," Draco said with a growl.
"Has Harry Potter finally escaped from the sham relationship he had with Death Eater, Draco Malfoy to find love with another? Your reporter has evidence that indeed he has."
"Evidence?" Pansy asked before being shushed by Draco.
"A reputable source, that I can confirm to be close to the Saviour, has come forward with pictures of Mr Potter's new beau."
"Zach?" Pansy and Harry shouted as one as they spotted the picture that accompanied the article.
"I know." Draco picked up the paper and read aloud. "Zacharias Smith, noted Estate Agent and Battle of Hogwarts veteran, has been spotted in the company of Mr Potter many times over the past few weeks. Mr Potter hasn't been spotted with his supposed boyfriend in the same time period. Mr Smith has refused to comment. Our source insists that Mr Smith is simply protecting his new love."
Harry was aghast once Draco had finished talking. Draco took out his wand out and incinerated the newspaper before pulling Harry towards him. Pansy started giggling. Draco's shoulders were shaking and it was obvious to Harry that he too was laughing silently. He couldn't help but join in; soon, the three of them were outright chuckling.
"What's so funny?"
The three, as one, turned towards the newcomer.
"Zach," Draco said and Harry could hear the chill in his voice. "This is a surprise."
"Harry was expecting me," Zach said, confusion clear on his face. "We're supposed to go over the decorating plans for his house. Are you ready to go, Harry?"
"I meant here, Zach." Harry stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest. A quick glance at Pansy and Draco told him that they had the same pose. Harry knew he wouldn't fancy standing in front of them.
"And haven't you got anything to say?" Pansy asked. "Or have you got 'no comment'?"
"Ah, I take it you've seen the paper."
"Yes. We've seen the paper. What the fuck is that about?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded. "And why didn't you tell them it was a fucking lie?"
"I know you don't like your friends talking to the press," Zach said, looking slightly alarmed. "I was trying to do what you wanted."
"For fuck's sake." Harry dropped his head into his hands before sighing and lifting his head to look at Zach. "I meant normally—for day to day stuff. If they come up to you and want you to talk about how we're not having an illicit affair, you're more than fucking welcome to talk to the bastards."
"Okay, okay." Zach held up his hands defensively. "I'll remember that for next time."
Harry caught Draco around the waist to stop him lunging at Zach.
"I think you'd better go," Pansy said, glaring at him. "I think you have a reporter to owl."
Zach didn't move; he simply stood where he was, looking at Harry.
"We'll do the decorating stuff again," Harry said. "Apparently, I haven't spent enough time with my boyfriend recently."Harry winked at Draco. "And Zach? Don't forget to owl the Prophet."
Zach's face dropped and he left without another word.
"Have you finished work, or are you on a break?" Harry asked Draco with a smile.
"All done. I'll have to go back in early tomorrow, but there's nothing more to do today. Hermione's orders."
"Great." Harry turned to Pansy. "Pans—"
"Yes, yes; I'll close up. You go have rampant sex on the steps of the Ministry." She waved her hands in a dismissive gesture, whipping out her wand and clearing up the now-cold puddle of tea behind the counter. "Prove you're both still devouring each other every spare moment. I'll stay here and do all the work."
Harry and Draco both kissed her cheeks before leaving hand-in-hand. "So, the steps of the Ministry?" Draco asked with a wink.
"How about we just go home?"
Draco smiled. "Sounds like a plan."
Harry followed Draco through the door; more determined than ever to ask Draco to move in with him.
xxx
Harry was starting to think that maybe the Prophet had been on the right track after all. Even though Draco had agreed immediately to move in, Harry hadn't seen Draco alone for much more than an hour a day. They always managed to have a quick cuddle in bed in the morning before they both ran out to work, and they made sure they had dinner together most nights, but most of the time Draco was out at work until late.
Draco had always worked hard; he had worked his way up from a lowly errand boy, and he had been determined that he do it on his own merits. He and Hermione had been struggling with some of the less regulated wizarding communities around the world, and, as a consequence, were working from dawn till dusk nearly every day.
It was Neville that had had given him an idea on how to fix it. Well, an idea to get Harry and Draco to spend more time together; it would take more than Harry to fix Croatia's problems. Harry had decided to ask Pansy to look after the café for a week, and he was hoping that Draco would take a week off fixing the world's problems.
Neville and Ginny didn't even see each other for an hour a day; Neville was teaching at Hogwarts, and Ginny was constantly up and down the country with her Quidditch team. But every few months, Ginny would take some time off when the school was having a break, and they would go on holiday somewhere, just the two of them.
Apart from a trip to Wales months ago, Harry and Draco hadn't been on a 'proper' holiday together, so Harry was determined that it was about time they did. He had gathered as many brochures as he could find, and had them all piled up on the kitchen counter for when Draco finally got home. Surely they could find somewhere to go.
Harry was upstairs when he heard the door slam.
"Harry, where are you?" Draco called. "I need to talk to you."
Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry soon reached the bottom and greeted Draco with a kiss. "Hi," he said. "I have something to talk to you about as well."
"Hmm," Draco moaned as Harry removed Draco's cloak and started kissing across his neck. "Stop that. You wanted to talk? You go first. Yours looks like good news. I could do with some of that."
"Okay. Dinner first?"
Draco's stomach answered for him, rumbling loudly. Harry laughed and went to dish up the food.
They talked about inconsequential things during dinner: the latest gossip, whether or not they were going out on Friday, the weather. Once they had finished, Draco swooshed his wand, sending the dishes into the sink, and sat back in his chair.
"Come on then, Harry," Draco said with a small grin, "spill the beans. You're obviously dying to say something."
Harry got up from his chair to grab the holiday brochures off the counter and handed them to Draco. "I want to go on holiday. With you."
"When?"
"Soon," Harry replied. "I've arranged for Pansy to look after the café. You've been working so hard; surely you can take a week off."
Draco's face fell. "I have to go away."
"Well, you don't have to." Harry didn't know what else to say; Draco had never seemed averse to holidays before. "I'm not going to force you."
"No, Harry," Draco said with a sigh. "I'd love to go on holiday with you. Honestly. Nothing with give me more pleasure than to rub suntan lotion on your back by the side of some pool somewhere before scandalising the neighbours by having sex on the balcony. But I have to go away."
"Huh?"
"With work," Draco clarified. "Hermione has to go to Zagreb next week. She needs me to go with her; we're helping their Ministry to implement the new structure."
"That's okay; we can go when you get back."
"Harry. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Draco shifted his chair closer to Harry's and took his hand. "We're going to be gone for six months."
Harry couldn't think. His brain was only processing the words 'six months' over and over again. "Six months?"
Draco smiled. "Why don't you come?"
"What?"
"Come with me. You just said that Pans was looking after the shop. It'll be like an extended holiday!"
"That's for one week. On the sole condition that I tell her every sordid detail. But that's beside the point. How is it a holiday if you have to work? Will you at least be home at the weekends?"
"I'll try my best," Draco promised.
Harry wanted to punch the wall. He knew exactly what that meant: six months without Draco. Fuck.
"When do you leave?" Harry asked, forcing a smile.
"Next Thursday."
"And you have to go?" Harry asked. He knew the answer already; he just wanted to make sure.
Draco put his arms around Harry and hugged him. "It's only six months. What's that in relation to the rest of our lives?"
Harry knew it wasn't Draco's fault. Hermione though, she was getting a Howler first thing in the morning. For now, Harry would just have to make the most of having Draco at home.
"Come on, we can do the dishes in the morning. Let's just go to bed."
xxx
Two days before Draco and Hermione were due to take their Portkey to Croatia, Harry had arranged a get together with all of their friends in their usual pub. Hermione had insisted that she had too much work on to party, but Harry had put his foot down. He cited Ron's sadness at losing his girlfriend, and his own need for one last night of drunken fun before she and Draco flew off to fix wizarding-kind.
The drinks had been flowing all night, and Harry was feeling more than a little tipsy. Jokes were flying around the table non-stop, and Harry couldn't think of a better send-off for his boyfriend and best friend. The main subject for the group was what Ron and Harry would be getting up to while their other halves were off gallivanting around Europe.
Harry had never seen himself as a prude, but Ginny and Pansy's teasing about how his right arm would be stronger than ever after six months had made him blush harder than he ever had before. Which, in turn, caused the girls to collapse into laughter once more.
"He won't need his hand," Blaise said with a wink. "He's got his little boyfriend to help him out."
At everybody's confused look, Blaise gestured to the doorway of the pub.
"Very funny," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "He's just a friend."
Harry waved Zach over, and Ron shifted over so that he'd be able to sit down.
"What are we talking about?" Zach said once he was seated with his pint.
"You," Draco answered. "And your designs on Harry."
"What? I haven't—"
"I'm only taking the piss," Draco insisted, throwing his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Harry's got no reason to look anywhere else. I happen to know that his right hand does the job perfectly well."
The entire table—apart from Zach, who was looking decidedly confused—burst into laughter. Harry choked on his beer and Draco slapped him on the back.
"Now that I think about it, I'd better get home and give him something to remember me by." Draco winked at the group and Harry started choking again.
"Sounds like a plan," Harry said once he had finally managed to swallow his beer instead of spraying it all over the table. "Zach, owl me about a day to do the painting."
"Oh, yes," Blaise leered. "When the cat's away..."
"Blaise, fuck off. Everyone else, I'll see you tomorrow."
After a chorus of goodbyes, Harry and Draco stumbled their way home.
Once they were back at their house, Harry slammed the door behind them and pushed Draco up against it. "I would never—"
Draco silenced him with a kiss. "I know; don't worry. It won't stop me from leaving you with a fantastic memory though."
Harry groaned and ripped Draco's cloak from him. "Upstairs. Now."
Draco smirked and, with a flick of his wand and a whispered "Removere Vestum!" had them naked where they stood. "I'm perfectly happy where I am," Draco said with a wink, leaning back against the door.
Harry thought he might have broken his kneecaps with the speed of which he dropped to the floor. He didn't give a shit; he simply leaned forward until his nose was nestled in Draco's groin. Fuck he loved this; the smell of Draco invading his senses as Draco's cock hardened against his cheek.
Sitting back on his heels, Harry looked up at Draco and licked his lips. Yes, he was going to fucking enjoy every second of this. They both were; he was going to make sure of it.
Harry moved forward, taking Draco's cock in one hand, and steadying himself with his other. Bringing the hard cock to his lips, Harry licked the tip before sucking the length fully into his mouth. After only a few moments, Draco was already starting to pant, so Harry pulled off and held his hand out.
Harry didn't have an awful lot of wandless magic, but this was one spell he had practised and practised until he had it right. "Accio lube!"
Draco moaned and opened his legs further.
"Nuh-huh," Harry said, grabbing the jar that came flying through the air. "Don't be greedy. You said you were going to give me something to remember you by. I'm waiting." Harry moved so that he was lying on the floor, his knees bent and his legs open. Palming his own cock, Harry looked into Draco's eyes. "Do I have to do everything myself?"
Draco nodded, and Harry unscrewed the lid, and coated his fingers. Dropping his fingers past his own balls, he pushed one finger into his arse. One eventually became two, which quickly became three, until Harry was gasping and writhing as he fucked himself with his own fingers. All the while, Draco lounged against the door, watching intently with a grin on his face.
After Harry had worked himself open, Draco quickly slicked his own hand, pulled Harry's hand away and pushed his own fingers into Harry's pulsating arse. "You'll have plenty of time for that when I've gone. Let me play."
Harry once again took hold of his cock, and pulled in rhythm with Draco fingers. "Stop!" he gasped after a few moments. "Don't want to come yet!"
Draco grinned and removed his fingers. Lining his cock up with Harry's ready hole, he pushed forward with a grunt. Harry screamed. It was a good scream; he loved the feel of Draco's thick cock filling him up. As Draco shifted his hips, Harry moaned. He was definitely going to remember every second of this.
Picking up the pace, Draco thrusted harder and faster into Harry, holding Harry legs in the air as he did so. Harry finally started pulling on his own cock; once again meeting Draco's movements, thrust for thrust.
Harry's back was rubbing against the cold wood of the floor, but he didn't care. He simply writhed and thrashed on the floor until he finally came with a groan, covering his hand and spurting onto his chest. Draco moaned as Harry's arse spasmed; moments later, he too came with a shout before collapsing on top of Harry.
"Hmm, I think I might remember that," Harry said once he got his breath back.
"Then my job here is done." Draco laughed and rolled onto his back.
"Nuh-huh." Harry tried to get up and failed. "You can help me up off this floor, and then you can pick all the splinters out of my arse."
Draco leaned over and kissed him. "I'll fire-call you all the time. I promise."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
xxx
Draco had been gone for two weeks, and Harry was miserable. True to his word, Draco fire-called him at least every other day, but Harry still missed him dreadfully. He hated sleeping alone. Harry had been busy, though; the café was as bustling as ever, and he was getting on well with decorating the house. Harry was determined to have it finished by the time Draco got back home.
Harry and Draco had already started on some of the upstairs rooms, but the downstairs hadn't been touched. Zach, Ron and Ginny had been a great help, coming over to the house every day after work to help Harry paint. Pansy had been over to 'help', but as her help consisted of shouting out orders and something she called 'delegating', Harry told her she didn't need to come over as often. Blaise had proved himself to be a brilliant tea maker, so Harry told him to come over whenever he wanted.
Ron had been living with Harry since Hermione and Draco had gone. It had started off with a quick pint and something to eat after work, and soon it turned into Ron moving into one of the spare bedrooms. Harry guessed that Ron missed his girlfriend a little more than he let on.
Molly had persuaded Ron and Ginny to go to the Burrow for dinner, and Pansy and Blaise had dates, so Harry and Zach were putting the finishing touches to the dining room alone. Harry was expecting a call from Draco, so he put his paintbrush down and went to clean himself up. He had promised to meet Ron in the pub after he'd finished dinner and Harry didn't want to turn up spattered with olive-green paint.
"Won't be a second, Zach," Harry called as he left the room. "I'll wait for Draco's call and then we'll head to the pub."
Harry showered and changed, and within minutes was back downstairs. "Was that Draco?" Harry asked Zach, noticing the man standing up from the fireplace.
"Yes," Zach said, brushing the soot from his collar. "He had to run off to dinner. He said he'll owl you soon."
Harry was confused. Draco had never cut short one of their conversations before; why was tonight different? And why didn't Draco wait for him to come to the fire, instead of just telling Zach? Deciding to put those bad thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry grabbed his coat. He was sure that there was reasonable explanation for it.
"Ready for the pub?"
Zach smiled. "Whenever you are. Hey, can I stay here tonight? I don't fancy going all the way back home."
"Of course. You can sleep in the room next to mine and Draco's. Draco made it look nice; he'll be glad that someone is getting some use out of it."
"Thanks," Zach said, grabbing his own coat and opening the door.
xxx
Harry was asleep when he felt someone climb into bed beside him. Unconsciously thinking it was Draco, he wrapped his arms around him, kissed the back of his neck and fell back into a deep sleep. He, Ron and Zach had had more than a couple drinks the previous night, so Harry more than needed it.
Harry was next awoken by the bedroom door opening, flooding the bedroom with light.
"Harry," the newcomer called quietly, causing Harry to wake up fully.
"Draco?"
Harry grinned at the sight of his boyfriend in the doorway, before realisation dawned upon him. Horror crept up his spine as he looked down at the bed beside him. Blond hair was all that he could see poking out of the duvet, but it definitely wasn't Draco's hair. Especially as Draco was standing in front of him.
"I missed you when I called earlier, and we had the weekend free, so we thought we'd pop home for a couple of days."
"Draco," Harry began, moving to get out of bed.
The shift caused the duvet to fall. Harry blanched and Draco jumped back.
"Harry? What the fuck is Zach doing in our bed? And why the fuck is he naked?"
Harry quickly ran over to Draco, trying to touch him, but Draco kept moving backwards.
"Draco, I promise. I have no idea. I was—"
"No." Draco held his hands out in front of him. Harry had never seen such a desolate look on his face. "I don't want to hear it."
He turned on his heels and left, Harry running behind him. "Draco, wait!"
With a loud crack, Draco Disapparated. Harry sat down heavily at the top of the stairs. The unmistakable sound of sex coming from Ron's room gave him no comfort at all. Fuck. Harry didn't know what to do, or where Draco could've gone. He ran through possibilities in his head: Pansy, Blaise, the Manor. Where should he start?
First, before he did anything else, Harry had an absolute bastard to kick out of his bed.
xxx
Harry slumped onto the sofa and accepted the large Firewhisky pushed into his hand by Ron. He didn't know what else he could do.
When Draco had left, Harry had taken a second to think before storming into his bedroom, and slamming the door behind him. Zach had woken up and had had the fucking cheek to smile at Harry and wish him good morning. Harry had soon hexed the little bastard until he'd left his house. Harry wasn't in the mood to listen to his reasons for climbing into bed with him.
Ron and Hermione had emerged from their room, obviously disturbed by the noise, and were horrified to learn what had happened. Hermione was insistent that they'd soon find Draco and clear it all up. Neither of them could believe that Zach would do what he did.
Hermione had told Ron to go to Blaise, and Harry to go and see if Draco had gone to his parent's. She promised to go straight to Pansy's. Harry didn't like visiting the Manor at the best of times, but he needed to see Draco and explain the misunderstanding to him so he quickly dressed and Apparated to Wiltshire.
After a tense visit with the elder Malfoys—who knew nothing of Draco's whereabouts—Harry had Apparated back to his house, hopeful that he'd find Draco sitting on the sofa waiting for him. Of course, all that Harry found instead was a living room full of his friends—and no Draco.
Pansy wrapped him in a hug as soon as Harry walked through the door, before slapping him across the face. His insistence that he had done no wrong only earned him a glare from Pansy. Apparently—being the seer that he was—he should have seen it coming.
Ginny was grumbling under her breath about twats taking liberties, and every couple of minutes stood up, raised her wand and promised to make sure that Zach never had the chance to climb into anybody else's bed. Harry was inclined to let her; Hermione wasn't.
The group had run out of ideas, so, after a hastily thrown together lunch, had fallen back on the usual plan: getting pissed. Harry couldn't see how it could help; Ron had insisted that it couldn't hurt.
Hermione stood up suddenly, causing the group to jump. "No, he wouldn't!" she said as she ran to the fireplace.
"Hermione?"
"I hate it when she does that."
Hermione ignored them and threw some Floo powder into the flames. The rest of the group waited in silence for her to finish whatever she was doing.
"He did," Hermione said sadly as she pulled her head out of the fire.
"Did what?" Harry almost shouted. "Hermione?"
"He's gone back."
"To Zagreb?"
Hermione nodded.
"Well, fire-call him!"
"I can't. You know we can't accept incoming calls. That's why he always had to call you, remember?"
"Well, I'll just Portkey over there, then. I need to see him. I need to explain."
"I'll call the office," Hermione promised. "Pack a bag."
tbc