***
See disclaimer in Chapter 1. Not mine.
***
"Well, I still say it's not fair," Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Merlin, Gin, give it a rest!" Ron nearly shouted, drawing attention from several neighboring tables. He flushed, lowering his voice. "Look at me and Lavender. We're not living together, and you don't see either of us getting in a snit about it."
Draco smirked when he saw Lavender's eyes narrow. Apparently marriage had been on her mind, judging from the way she slapped the redhead across the face and stormed out.
"Fuck. Are you happy now?" Ron asked his sister, glaring when she started to laugh. He turned to Harry, shooting his best friend a look of pure betrayal. "I blame you. You're the one who started all this nonsense."
Ron shot a longing glance at his own plate before pushing away from the table to go in search of his girlfriend. He'd had no idea she was even considering marriage, though he supposed he shouldn't have been so surprised. Most of the wizarding world married young, and they'd certainly gotten serious over the last few months.
Harry merely shrugged, taking another bite of his sandwich. It wasn't that he minded cooking – though a little help from Draco would be appreciated – but he really enjoyed the communal lunches that were served in the Great Hall.
"You're not missing out on much," Pansy said, turning everyone's attention back to the table. "You have your own rooms, right?"
Ginny nodded, threading her fingers through Dean's under the table. They'd made judicious use of their single rooms already, though her roommate, Mandy Brocklehurst, seemed to mind more than Dean's.
"Well, then you're getting all the benefits without any of the downsides," Pansy said, rolling her eyes as she looked at Neville.
"What benefits?" he grumbled, stabbing at a forkful of pasta salad on his plate.
"The benefits you'd be enjoying, too, if you'd realize I'm not a house-elf!" Pansy snorted, drawing a laugh from Harry. He and Draco had engaged in a similar argument the night before after Harry had picked a pair of Draco's socks up off the range in the kitchen. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I know any more about cleaning than you do, Longbottom."
The table erupted in laughter at her words. Even Pansy cracked a smile, shaking her head good-naturedly and allowing Neville to kiss her on the cheek. The group fell back into easy conversation for the duration of the meal, laughing and joking with each other.
It wasn't until they were all standing to leave that Pansy's comment really registered with Harry, who turned to Draco with a look of horror on his face.
"Wait. Does that mean you think I'm the girl?"
***
Harry had no idea what Draco did while he was in his Wizarding Traditions class. He and most of the other pure-bloods didn't need to attend, since they were well-versed in the formal traditions of their world. Theo told Hermione he'd worked with a tutor since age four, and Harry suspected Draco's education had started at that age, too, if not earlier.
He looked out the window, straining to see the Quidditch pitch in the distance. Neville was missing from this class as well, though both Ginny and Ron had chosen to take it. Though they were one of the oldest pure-blood families left, the Weasleys placed no importance on most of the wizarding traditions.
"They're not out there," Hermione whispered, pulling herself away from the lecture on formal greetings long enough to notice Harry's preoccupation. "Neville needed some help in Greenhouse One."
Harry nodded, turning his attention back to the lecture. He'd never known there was more than one way to shake someone's hand, and he absently wondered how many wizards he'd mortally offended over the last year with his improper technique.
"Tomorrow is Draco's day to pick, so they'll probably be in the Potions Lab," she continued, half-listening to the instructor drone on as she took meticulous notes. "He's close to getting the –" she broke off, giving Harry an apologetic smile. "I'm sure you hear about this all night long. You don't need me going on about his potions experiments, too."
Harry quickly masked his confusion, feeling slightly hurt that Draco shared how he spent his days with Hermione instead of him. He'd had no idea Draco was experimenting.
"Yeah, sure," he said, focusing on watching the instructor pull Ron toward the front of the classroom to demonstrate the proper way to greet a business associate who was higher in rank.
***
"It was so nice of you to invite us all over for dinner, Harry."
Harry returned Luna's grin, steering her toward a cutting board with lettuce and tomatoes on it.
"Yeah, well, you're here to work as well, so don't thank me yet," he said with a laugh, patiently showing her how to core and seed the tomatoes so they didn't make a mess when she diced them.
Draco swept through the kitchen, stealing a handful of shredded cheese from a bowl on the counter and smirking when Harry glared at him.
"Everyone's here," he said, eyeing the counter dubiously. "Should we enlarge this?"
Harry nodded, letting Draco take care of the Transfiguration while he pulled more ingredients out of the cupboard Molly had shown them now to spell cool. It was just as good as a Muggle refrigerator, though the charms had to be re-cast about once a week.
Armed with peppers, onions and meat, he turned to his audience. Only Hermione looked amused at the prospect of cooking their own meal that night; everyone else was carefully avoiding Harry's gaze.
"So, tonight's lesson," he said, using the same tone he'd often taken during D.A. meetings. "Tacos."
***
"I still think you should have warned Pansy about how hot those habanero chilies are," Hermione said, dumping the remains of Pansy's mostly uneaten meal in the bin.
Harry shrugged, grinning as he helped her scrape plates.
"Neville knew, and he didn't say anything, either. He actually grew most of the peppers we used tonight. Sprout let him have most of Greenhouse Three to experiment with vegetables," Harry answered, stacking the plates next to the sink.
Everyone else had left, though Hermione had insisted that she and Theo stay to help clean up. She was holding next Friday's cooking demonstration at her own suite, so Harry suspected she'd only offered to make sure they helped her next time.
"Speaking of Neville, did the clippings he gave you this afternoon do the trick?" Theo asked, helping Harry collect the dirty dishes that cluttered every flat surface in the room. He flicked a glance toward Harry, pausing for a moment. "For the thing, I mean? It went alright?"
"That's it!" Harry yelled, slamming a glass down on the tray and staring at Draco. "What the hell is going on? Why does everyone else seem to know all about this mysterious potion when I didn't even know you were working on anything until today?"
Draco flushed, but he looked excited instead of chagrined. He pushed Harry toward the kitchen, ignoring the knowing smirk on Theo's face.
"I didn't want to get your hopes up, in case I couldn't get in on such late notice, but I just finished the last round of testing on the experimental potion I needed for the application, and it's perfect!"
Harry frowned in confusion. He had absolutely no idea what Draco was talking about.
"Exeter, Harry," Draco said, his grey eyes dancing with excitement. Hermione clapped her sudsy hands together, dancing over to hug the blond. "I've been accepted to Exeter's Potions Mastery."
Harry felt like he'd been blindsided by a Bludger. Exeter had extended an offer for him to join its Healing program, but he'd turned them down, knowing Draco had no intention of pursuing further education. Draco was the Malfoy heir; he needed to start learning the ropes of the family business as soon as Hogwarts ended.
"But –" Harry swung around to face him, the tray of dirty dishes in his hands forgotten. "But Malfoy Industries. You have responsibilities, things your family expects you to do. And I – I turned them down, Draco. I turned Exeter's offer down."
Harry's chest tightened with panic and remorse. Would Draco go to Exeter alone? Harry had known they'd spend most of their days apart, since Draco would be working in the city most of the time, and he'd assumed he'd find a job himself to pass the time. Probably something at the Ministry, or maybe even a low placement in one of Draco's companies. He'd really wanted to pursue Healing, especially since Madam Pomfrey had discovered he had a natural inclination for it when he'd worked with her in those weeks after the final battle, patching up minor injuries and helping with on-going cases so she could spend her time with the more seriously injured.
"Actually, Harry, you didn't," Hermione said, flushing crimson. A small smile played on her lips as she sat the soapy plate she'd been washing aside.
"I did," Harry insisted, pushing the tray of dishes onto the counter. "I sent an owl a few months ago, declining the spot. I'm sure it's already filled. Exeter's program is one of the best, there's no way an empty spot would –"
"Harry," Draco said firmly, coming up behind him and resting his hands on Harry's tense shoulders. "You didn't. We intercepted the owl. You're enrolled for the autumn term."
"I – you what?"
Hermione wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him toward an empty stool and urging him to sit. He looked shell-shocked and bewildered, and she didn't want to risk him stumbling.
"We knew how much you want to be a Healer, Harry," she said, smiling up at Draco, who still had his hands curled protectively around Harry's shoulders. "We couldn't let you pass up that opportunity."
Draco nodded, squeezing Harry's tight muscles briefly.
"Father's not pleased, but he accepts my decision. I'm postponing entering into Malfoy Industries until after we've finished University, with the possibility of never taking over, should I so choose." He noticed Harry open his mouth to protest and cut him off with another squeeze. "I'm hardly the last Malfoy, Harry. I have several cousins in France who'd love the opportunity to run things, and Father will likely keep the helm for years and years to come, anyway."
He ducked down, looking Harry in the eye.
"I want to be happy. I want us to be happy. We could do great things together, as a Healer and a Potions Master. Or maybe you'll work at St. Mungo's and I'll leave potions behind and become the executive my Father has always dreamed of. It doesn't matter, so long as we're both happy."
Harry shifted, suddenly feeling as light as a feather. The house they'd bought was a short Apparation or Floo away from Exeter, and he realized Draco had probably planned it that way. He wasn't quite ready to let the blond off the hook, though, for keeping so many secrets.
"Exeter, then," Harry said, unable to contain the grin that split his face. He was getting everything he'd ever dared hope for. "But don't think I'm not watching you, Draco Malfoy," he warned, his expression turning stern. "You'd best not be keeping anything else from me. I've had enough secrets and intrigue for awhile."
Hermione drifted back toward the sink, blinking furiously as tears clouded her vision. She cursed herself for being so sappy, focusing her attention on Levitating the dishes Harry had gathered into the sink. Honestly, she chastised herself, if I'm this bad about their engagement, how bad will I be when I finally get engaged myself?
***
Author's note: TBC. Damn angsty boys … now that suspicious!Harry is finished (again!), hopefully they'll let me write about classes and such. *grins*
