A/N: A few people mentioned in the past that this story seemed familiar, so I apologize if I have inadvertently stolen a storyline from someone! I hope to make it original in my own way!
Updated: February 2015
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July 22
"Merlin, Potter, how can you still be sleeping?!"
"Aah!" cried Harry, pulled immediately from his sleep. Rubbing his tired eyes, he squinted at the intruder standing in his bedroom. "W-who are you? What do you want?" he stammered, fumbling about for his glasses and his wand.
"Relax," the stranger replied, pushing Harry's glasses into his out-stretched hand.
Harry shoved them on and looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing, arms crossed, beside the bed. Once again, he looked flawless, although today he simply wore a pair of denims and clingy black, long-sleeved shirt.
"Gracious, Potter," Malfoy chuckled, "do you always sleep in such a, uh... a state of undress?" The blond shot a pointed glance towards Harry's bared chest, and as his eyes slowly traveled lower, a slight tint of color spread across his cheeks.
Harry's eyes followed in the direction Malfoy was looking, and he blushed a brilliant red as well, pulling the covers up to hide his prominent arousal. "Shove it, Malfoy," he growled in embarrassment.
"Sweet dreams?" the blond questioned, his trademark smirk spreading across his features.
Harry glared at the man and ignored his question. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?" he demanded. "How did you get in my flat?!"
"I do apologize if I startled you," Malfoy answered, not looking a bit apologetic in the slightest. "Your darling fiance changed the wards on your... flat, you called it?, so that I am able to Floo straight here from my office. Made things rather convenient, she thought," he continued, his smirk growing ever more. "The reason for my presence should be quite simple, even for you. Welcome to day one of your wedding preparations, Potter."
"Fucking hell," Harry replied, leaning back on the pillows and throwing an arm over his face. "So early? Honestly, Malfoy, how much help will I really be?"
"Oh, there's no doubt in my mind that you will be more of a hindrance than a help, but Ginevra insisted," Malfoy drawled. "Now if you don't mind, we've an appointment with a florist in half an hour."
Harry moved to get out of bed, dragging the covers with him. "Well if YOU don't mind, Malfoy, I'd prefer getting dressed alone," he shot back.
"Of course, I'll wait in the kitchen, shall I?" Malfoy replied, giving Harry a sarcastic bow of the head and one final smirk before exiting the bedroom.
Harry groaned under his breath, dropping the covers and heading towards the bathroom. He turned the cold tap in the shower and stepped beneath the stream, willing his morning erection to subside. The cold waves crashing down on him unfortunately did nothing to help, and he sighed, giving in to the pleasure. Harry gripped his hard-on, stroking himself a little roughly, his thoughts circling between Ginny and other faceless women.
As he neared completion, the images in his mind melted into a pool of silvery grey. Harry began fisting himself even more roughly, and he eventually came with a muffled groan all over the shower tiles. Harry washed himself off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and walking back to his bedroom, as his hair dripped steadily onto his bare chest. He shuffled towards the wardrobe and pulled out a clean pair of denims, an emerald green pair of boxer shorts, and a darker green hooded sweatshirt. Pulling off the towel and quickly drying his hair, Harry pulled on the clothes and stumbled out of the room into the kitchen.
Malfoy was sitting on one of the tall bar stools stationed next to the counter top, legs crossed and sipping a cup of coffee. "Enjoy yourself, Potter? You certainly took your time," he commented. "I wonder what could have possibly taken you so long…"
"Yeah, well, you certainly helped yourself to my pot of coffee," the brunette threw back, ignoring Malfoy's insinuations. Then, noticing the half-eaten croissant next to Malfoy's coffee, he sullenly added, "As well as my bakery foods."
"I figured since you'll be living alone for the next month, you wouldn't mind sharing a bit," the blond retorted as Harry poured himself a rather large mug of coffee. "Alright, Potter, now that you've got your caffeine, it's time we get to the florist's."
x
"...and we've got roses, they're certainly the most popular. We also have all sorts of lilies, peonies, hydrangeas..."
Harry slumped in the uncomfortable chair at the florist's. The plump woman who owned the shop had been prattling on about all sorts of flowers for what seemed like ages, and the brunette man's patience had run out within the first ten minutes.
Malfoy, on the other hand, was deep in discussion with the woman about which flowers would best suit a late summer wedding, taking into consideration all possible aspects that might affect their floral choice. "Potter?" the blond man snapped Harry out of his day-dreaming. "Which do you prefer?"
"Erm...," Harry floundered for a flower name and spat out the first that came to mind. "Roses?"
Malfoy gave him a knowing smirk and replied, "Although roses are certainly the most popular wedding flower, your soon-to-be wife made it expressly clear that she does not want roses at her wedding."
Harry growled from exasperation and said, "If you already know what she wants, why bother asking my opinion?"
"It is your wedding, as well," Malfoy teased. "But, if you insist...," he continued, turning back to the florist, "Ginevra would like the daisies."
"Daisies, a wonderful choice! Very unique, how fitting for such a couple!" the woman squealed, scribbling in the large book that covered most of her desk.
Harry returned to tuning the two of them out as they finalized all the plans and details.
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"Merlin, you never cease to infuriate me, Potter," Malfoy drawled, shoving Harry's shoulder to effectively draw him out of his reverie.
"What've I done now?" he grumbled in response.
"Nothing, that's exactly my point," the blond whined. "You could have just as easily been a flower hanging on the wall yourself for all the good you did!"
"Yes, well, I won't mess anything up this way," Harry replied shortly.
Malfoy laughed. "Good point," he remarked as they left the shop. "Step one is complete, Potter. I do believe that's all we had lined up for today. Would you care to join me for lunch?"
"Oh... Well, I really should – I mean, I'm set to phone Ginny here soon, so...," Harry stammered.
"It's simply a meal, Potter," answered Malfoy condescendingly. "And I'm hungry. I know a quaint cafe down the block, and you can phone her while we're waiting for our food. Problem solved," he stated, turning on his heel and strolling down the sidewalk.
'What, he just expects me to follow him?' Harry thought, scoffing to himself. When he realized that the blond really wasn't waiting for him, he rolled his eyes and jogged to catch up. Once he did catch up with Malfoy, Harry pulled out his mobile and dialed Ginny's number. He waited as it rang once... twice... thrice... without answer. Harry followed his companion into a small restaurant and sat with him at a small booth in the corner. As he sat, he sighed and tossed his mobile down on the table.
"No answer, then?" Malfoy commented.
"No," Harry answered grudgingly. "I'm sure she got busy, though, I'll try back later."
"Mm, yes, I'm sure she's very busy," the blond replied with a smirk.
"What do you mean by that?" Harry questioned suspiciously. He had learned to never trust a smirking Malfoy.
"Oh, nothing at all." That infamous smirk grew, and the blond lifted his menu to hide it.
Harry frowned and shifted his attention to his own menu.
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Harry tried calling Ginny two more times throughout the meal, both without answer. He was becoming increasingly annoyed and slightly worried, not to mention angry at the fact that Malfoy seemed to think the whole thing was just entirely amusing.
As soon as he finished his meal, Harry threw down some Galleons for the check and stormed out of the building, with an annoyed Malfoy close behind him.
"What exactly was the meaning of that, Potter?" he snarled. "You can't leave Galleons in a Muggle restaurant, I figured you of all people would know that!"
Harry sighed once again and threw his hands up in frustration. "I'm sorry, Malfoy, all right?" he yelled back. "I wasn't thinking!"
"Well, that's obvious," the blond sniffed. "Listen, it's not my fault your girlfriend is a workaholic and can't be bothered to communicate with her fiancé. That lack of communication, it's quite a common problem, I see it in a lot of relationships."
Harry's eyes widened in anger. "Fuck off, Malfoy!" he growled, turning and stomping away from the other man.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Malfoy muttered under his breath. "Fine, run on home then, Potter," he called. "You know, I'm only trying to help."
"Help? Help?!" Harry turned back, astonished. "You've never been of any help to me, and you never will!"
The blond glared frostily at the brunette. "Have it your way, Potter," he answered, his voice as hard as stone. "Meet me in my office at 10 AM morning after next. I think you and I could use a day apart tomorrow."
"Suits me just fine," grumbled Harry before storming off to the nearest deserted alley in which he could Apparate back to his flat. 'Screw Malfoy and his fucking stuck up nose, which he just insists on sticking into all my business!' he thought in rage, turning on the spot and heading back home.
x
Harry screamed in frustration and threw his mobile against the opposite wall. He had been phoning Ginny off and on for the past two hours without any answer, and he was bloody sick of it!
Whilst Harry continued his sulking, his mobile began ringing. Startled and surprised, he rushed over to it, surprised to find it all in one piece. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned; it wasn't Ginny, of course. In fact, he was a bit shocked to find out that the number was "unknown", for Harry made a habit of being extremely secretive of his mobile number, on the off-chance that the digits were leaked to the public or, even worse, his obsessive fan base.
Deciding to let the caller go to voicemail, Harry picked up his mobile and carried it back over to the couch. When the phone trilled, announcing his new message, he pressed 1 and listened.
"Hello, Potter, it's Draco. Er, Malfoy. I'm calling to apologize for my horrid behavior after lunch today. I do hope you can forgive me. I've arranged that we can still have a day off tomorrow, so I'll see you in two days, 10 AM. Try to be on time, eh? And please don't worry; I'm not stalking you. Your fiancé was the one who gave me your mobile number. See you in a few days, scarhead. Bye."
Harry snorted at the old nickname, a small smile crossing his features. He saved the message, powered off his mobile, and wandered off to bed, completely forgetting about Ginny.
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