They finished off the bottle of wine, and ate their way merrily through their meal. Draco was impressed by Harry's openness to try new things, especially when the plate of snails was laid out before them, and Harry didn't even flinch. They shared pleasant conversation, and afterward, Harry seemed reluctant for his birthday to end, so Draco suggested that they move on to the Three Broomsticks.

At the Three Broomsticks, they chose a booth set in a back corner, though there weren't many people in the pub. They sat on opposite edges of the bench that surrounded three sides of the table, but both scooted around until they were sitting next to each other in the corner. When the barmaid came around to take their drink orders, Harry, happily tipsy, proudly proclaimed to the barmaid, "Today is my birthday, and my friend has taken me out to celebrate. Bring us a bottle of Firewiskey and two glasses."

He had thrown his arm around Draco's shoulders, and both men were beaming up at the barmaid. She smiled and winked down at them before disappearing. Not even a minute later she had returned with a very large bottle of Firewiskey, and two glasses. "Happy birthday, Mr. Potter." She beamed back at them.

"Thank you, Miss!"

Harry was apparently a light weight; he was already obviously tipsy, whereas Draco didn't even feel any effects from the wine they had shared, though after a second glass of Firewiskey, he was beginning to feel warm all over. Harry, on the other hand, had moved beyond tipsy to drunk. Harry was a touchy feely drunk, always seeming to want some sort of physical contact with Draco. Draco wondered if it was in attempt to stay upright, since the head of Gryffindor was swaying slightly in his seat. Harry was obviously a friendly drunk as well. He joked with the barmaid as she came by to see if they needed anything else, somehow still managing to remain witty and charming, even when intoxicated. Draco listened as well as he could, but as Harry had begun to ask for a travelling case to take the Firewiskey home in, his hand had found Draco's thigh, and Draco could focus on nothing else.

The barmaid brought the leather case, and packed the bottle inside for the men, wisely choosing to hand it to Draco instead of Harry. Harry paid for the bottle, tipping very generously, Draco observed, and then they made their way out into the street and back up to the castle, Draco throwing Harry's arm over his own neck to help support the slightly swaying man.

"Thank you for taking me out on my birthday. This has been my best birthday ever." Draco wasn't sure if that were actually true, or just a kind thanks, but he tightened his grip around the other man's waist in response as they made their way up to the castle.

Draco helped Harry up to the door to his rooms, where Harry reluctantly extracted his arm from around Draco's neck, and shifted his weight to lean against the door instead, his forehead pressed into the wood as he fumbled with the knob. Finally he managed to get the door to open, but with his full weight leaning against the door, he began to fall face first. With a Seeker's reflexes, Draco dropped the case of Firewiskey and caught Harry by the hips, pulling him backward and upright, the quick movement causing the drunk man to stumble back into Draco's chest, and then forward again in overcompensation. When Harry had finally achieved some semblance of upright, Draco released his hips and kicked the Firewiskey inside the rooms just enough so he could close the door behind them. In the meantime, Harry had peeled the suede jacket off and dropped it in a heap on the floor, and nearly tripped on it on his way to the bedroom. The jacket was a nice one, and Harry had looked VERY good in it. Not wanting it to get ruined, Draco picked up the jacket, and helped Harry toward the room that the man had indicated with an uncoordinated bob of his head.

Inside the room was a giant bed low to the ground with a very thick overstuffed white comforter and many pillows, and a large black wardrobe. Draco brought the jacket over to the wardrobe and hung it up. As he turned around he saw that Harry had shut the bedroom door and was leaning back against it, eyes fixed on Draco.

"Do you need help?"

Harry nodded his head, somehow never lifting it off the door as he did so. Draco made his way over to the man, suddenly nervous. Before him stood (well, leaned) the man who had featured in Draco's fantasies since the moment he had come back to Hogwarts. Even before they had made the peace, Draco would have admitted that Harry was an incredibly sexy man. Even his first night in the castle, he had woken from a dream that involved Harry licking and sucking mustard off of every inch of Draco's body. Of course, the physical attraction would have been easy enough to ignore, but once peace had been achieved between them, Draco had come to learn that Harry was nothing at all like Draco had always assumed he was. Harry had been right about letting misguided stereotypes influence your thinking. Unfortunately for Draco, he found that Harry's personality was as incredible as his looks. Physical attraction may be easy enough to ignore, but intellectual and emotional attraction were harder to overlook.

Draco was, in every conceivable way, attracted to Harry, and now he was faced with the task of helping to undress the object of his attraction. Harry remained leaning back against the door, content to let Draco do all the work. Calling up every bit of clinical detachment he could muster from his days as a medic, the new potions master reached up and began to unbutton Harry's shirt. The clinical detachment was harder to maintain as Harry, head still resting against the door, kept his heavily lidded eyes intently focused on Draco. To stave off the intense feelings Draco was trying to suppress, he refused to meet that gaze, instead focusing his attention on what he was doing. Of course, with each button unfastened, a bit more of Harry's well muscled chest was revealed. Unclothed, Harry's body looked every bit of good as Draco had always imagined it looking. Draco swiftly made his way down the buttons, purposefully not thinking about the little trail of hair that began under Harry's belly button, not thinking about where it led. When the shirt was completely unbuttoned, and Harry made no move to push his back away from the door to take the shirt all the way off, Draco asked uncertainly, "Trousers too?"

Harry nodded, again his head never leaving the door, and offered a faint hum of assent. Draco hadn't thought that course of action through to completion. He dropped down on his knees, eyes momentarily sweeping the (of course out of mind) trail of hair, before studiously avoiding it like they had avoided Harry's gaze. Instead he directed his focus on Harry's shoes while he untied the laces. His task was made harder when Harry brought his hands, which had until this point remained lifelessly hanging by his side, and put them on Draco's shoulders, steadying himself so he could lift his leg enough for Draco to pull his shoe off. After repeating the process with the other shoe, Draco looked up uncertainly at Harry. Thankfully, Harry was no longer watching Draco, and instead seemed to be focused on the ceiling. Now came the part Draco was both dreading, and looking forward to. He looked at that trail of hair, which disappeared into Harry's trousers right behind the brass belt buckle that Draco was now reaching for. Unlike the buttons of his shirt, which could be pulled far enough away from his body to avoid physical contact, his belt lay only millimetres from Harry's flesh, and Draco couldn't help his fingers brushing through the soft trail in the course of their job. In response to the soft tickle Draco's fingers caused as they brushed his lower belly, Harry's belly tightened and he let out a breathy "mmmmmmmmhhhhhh." Vaguely resembling a yummy sound, as the vocalization travelled from Harry's throat to Draco's ears, Draco lost the thread of detachment he had been so desperately holding on to. As he unfastened the button and lowered the zipper, he felt his body beginning to respond. What would he have given, for the circumstances to be slightly different? To be on his knees before a sober Harry, a Harry wanting him as much as he wanted the other man, instead of an intoxicated Harry who simply needed help undressing? Draco mused to himself that the evening did end in one of them seeing the other's pants.

"Okay, hold on Harry." Draco's voice was heavy with desire as he spoke, and he was only relieved that Harry was probably too drunk to notice. Harry's hands shifted slightly, so he could lean on them to support a greater amount of his weight as Draco pulled his trousers off. Quickly as he could, Draco stood to get himself out of the familiar position he had not found himself in for years. Of course he knew how much he missed sex, but he could never have anticipated how much being on his knees in front of Harry would affect him physically. Finally meeting Harry's eyes, Draco felt a peculiar swooping feeling in his gut. Not knowing what it was, and not wanting to take the time to explore the feeling, he pushed it aside and instead helped Harry over to the bed.

"You could stay for a while. My birthday doesn't need to end so soon." The look on the other man's face tempted Draco to stay, but the way Harry managed to sway, even when sitting on the edge of the bed, let Draco know that he couldn't. The more-than-likely-straight Defence Against the Dark Arts professor probably just wanted friendly companionship anyway, and Draco didn't feel he could provide that at the moment. If he stayed, given his own currently intoxicated state, Draco would probably end up doing something that would ruin their friendship, so he had to go. Even in the miniscule chance that there WAS something else behind Harry's offer, it would be wrong to take advantage of the man in this state.

Draco folded the trousers and shirt and threw them over the handle of the wardrobe. "I hate to tell you this, Harry, but your birthday ended two hours ago."

"Oh. It did?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Good night, Harry Potter. Happy birthday."

"Good night, Draco Malfoy. Thank you for everything. Is nice. Have a fluffy bed tonight."

Draco chuckled, "You too."

"Thank you."

Draco left the room and closed the door behind him. He leaned back against the door, letting out a breath that he had never even been aware of holding in. After giving himself a moment to recover, he looked around curiously at Harry's chambers. Where Harry's office had been decorated like a comfortable Victorian study, his chambers, at least the main room and the bedroom, were more modern, with hints of Japanese minimalist influence. Draco stood for a moment, blown away. Who knew his friend and co-worker would have such a flair for interior design? Growing up with the mother he had, whose favourite way to display her wealth was to totally redecorate her home each season and throw lavish parties showing off all her new accoutrements, Draco knew that Harry had talent to more than match even the best interior designers that his mother had hired. She would hire Harry in a heartbeat, Gryffindor golden child or no.

Draco went to check on the Firewiskey that had been dropped, and then kicked into the room. Opening the leather case bearing the high-end logo of the Firewiskey, he found that the bottle was undamaged. Someone must have put a cushioning charm inside the case to protect the contents. When he looked around and couldn't find anything resembling a wet bar, Draco just placed the bottle, in its case, on the table to the side. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he went over to the book cases to see what Harry had there. The shelves down in his office were full of all kinds of books relating to magic, especially defence magic. He even had all the books they had been assigned since first year, they sat, battered and fraying, next to newer glossy volumes. With the selection in Harry's office, Draco couldn't imagine what more could be up here in his personal library. What he found surprised him more. Fiction, poetry, philosophy, and art books sat among many photographs and a few trinkets Harry had collected in his travels. Draco shook his head. He needed to find something about Harry that didn't just leave him wanting more.

Draco looked at the photographs lining the shelves. There were older ones showing Harry's parents and their friends from school, some showing Harry and his friends back in their own school days, and more recent ones as well. There were many pictures that had Ron and Hermione in them; it was obvious they had been a couple since school. Ron's arm could be seen around Hermione in most of the pictures. There were some men and women in the pictures that Draco didn't recognise, but no indication in any of the pictures that Harry was 'with' any of them.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell on one picture. In it, Harry and Ron could be seen with a bunch of other guys Draco didn't recognise, playing some sort of Muggle game that involved a multicoloured ball roughly the size of a Quaffle. Half the guys, including Harry, were shirtless. Though Harry was among the smallest men there, it was obvious that he was one of the fastest. Draco watched as Harry manoeuvred out of reach of a man with a shirt on coming toward him, kicked the ball through the space between the man's legs, then quickly circled the man, catching up with the ball behind him, and kicking it into a large net at one edge of the photograph. This must have been a good thing, because Harry jumped into the air in triumph, then made his way closer to the camera, talking to whoever was holding it. He was smiling, and Ron, who was also shirtless, came by and gave Harry a congratulatory slap on the shoulder, blew a kiss at the camera (it must have been Hermione holding it), and started flexing his muscles for his audience. The camera turned to focus on Ron, but Harry remained in view to the side. There was sweat dripping enticingly down his neck and torso, and Draco watched as Harry picked up a bottle of water, swallowed down a couple gulps, then poured the rest down over his head. Draco couldn't look away as the water ran down Harry's muscled chest, past that trail of hair that Draco had so fleetingly brushed earlier, and down past the waist of Harry's shorts.

Draco quickly exited the head of Gryffindor's chambers, and made his way to the dungeons to take a cold shower and whip up a quick hangover cure potion, just in case Harry needed one in the morning.

-- -- -- -- --

Harry awoke in the middle of the night with a brilliant idea, knowing it was the kind of idea that, if not said aloud or written down immediately, would be lost. Quickly making his way out to his sitting room in search of a pen and paper, he found his birthday present still packed in with the case of Firewiskey he had purchased at the Three Broomsticks. Making quick use of his gift, he quickly wrote his idea down before it had a chance to disappear for good, and before he even had enough time to close the book, he fell asleep again right on his sofa.

-- -- -- -- --

"Something occurred to me last night."

Draco had been awoken earlier than he planned on getting up by a knock on his door. When he opened it he found a Harry who looked grim. Of course, the possibilities of what could have occurred to Harry last night rolled around Draco's head as a slight panic filled his mind.

"Oh?"

"Yes, there's a much better way to set up classes. It would make more sense, and the students would get more out of it."

"Oh?" Relief flooded the head of Slytherin as he took a step back and gestured the other man into his rooms.

"Yeh, take a look at this."

Harry handed the other man the journal as he walked into his chambers and sat down on the sofa. The first page of the journal was plastered with barely legible scribbles. Draco looked at it a bit, then looked up at Harry, who was cradling his head with his eyes closed. Draco took pity on the man and handed him the hangover cure he had brewed up the night before as he joined him on the sofa.

"You wrote this last night?"

"Yeah, I just woke up with this idea."

"Wow."

"What do you think?"

"Some people vomit and pass out when they're pissed off their rocker, you come up with this."

"Yeah, about that...I had a really great time last night. I'm sorry if I...I'm sometimes a bit...weird when I'm drunk."

"Well, at least you made a few galleons giving that lady a lap dance."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Kidding!"

As Harry breathed a sigh of relief, Draco continued. "Alas, there was no lap dance. Though you are a friendly drunk, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm. I didn't...? Well, thank you."

He reached over and put his hand on Draco's arm. The men locked eyes as Draco answered, "I had a great time too."

Harry's hand on his arm, and the way he held Draco's gaze began to stir within the head of Slytherin feelings that he had tried to avoid the night before. This would normally be the perfect time to lean in and kiss, but that was something Draco could never do, no matter how much he wanted it.

Instead he took a deep breath, and looked down at the journal, still open in his hands. "This is actually a good idea."

"Do you think we could do something like this at Hogwarts?"

"I think you should talk to McGonagall about it."

-- -- -- -- --

Time continued to pass more enjoyably for the men. Instead of only seeing each other during meal times, they began spending time together between meals, either in each other's quarters, or outside enjoying the mild summer out on the grounds. Both men were aware of the fact that their friendship had shifted greatly in their short time together, and both were aware that it was bound to shift again. It was now August, and time for the way of life they had been forced into at the beginning of the summer to come to an end. Soon other faculty and staff members would be joining them, and Draco feared the effects this would have on his interactions with Harry. First, he feared that Harry's spending time with him was a simple means to counteract the loneliness of living in a huge castle like Hogwarts. Once other options appeared, he worried Harry would no longer have any interest in a friendship with Draco.

His other fear was a little more realistic, based on Draco's experience. Despite his actively working these past few years to counteract his former reputation and the reputation of his family, many people were still reluctant to trust Draco. He knew Harry had seemed to get over his past, but who knows if the presence of others would change that? Draco, though no longer a dark wizard, still had to live under the name Malfoy, and all the reactions it evoked. Harry, on the other hand, was a good as good can be. He had saved them all from Voldemort, he was kind, he was funny, he was brilliant, he was the head of bloody Gryffindor...Even if Harry saw no problem with his consorting with Draco, Draco doubted the rest of the wizarding world would be so accepting of their friendship. Would Harry succumb to those pressures?

It was these thoughts that rolled around Draco's head the night before the arrival of the first one to burst the bubble they had been living in: Rubeus Hagrid.

The men had met for their morning meal, as usual, and were just starting to dig in when the giant man entered the Great Hall. He made his way, lumbering toward the table, and greeted the two other men. Understandably, his greeting to Harry was more enthusiastic than his greeting to Draco; Harry and the older man had been friends for years. But Draco couldn't help feeling that the way Rubeus looked sideways at him was hiding feelings of reservation, if not animosity.

"'Arry, can you come over 'ere for a sec?"

"Um, sure Hagrid."

He followed the larger man out the doors of the great hall, where Hagrid turned to him in earnest. "'As Malfoy been given' ya any trouble?"

"Nah, Draco's been wonderful. I'm really glad he's here."

Hagrid looked at him, not sure if Harry was being serious.

"Look, I know how he was...With Norbert, with Buckbeak, with you, with me, with Ron, with everyone... He was a right prat, but he's changed. Are you the same as you were when you were 13?"

"But his father..."

"That was his father; that was Voldemort; that's not Draco. He's different. Have you forgotten that he saved Mrs. Weasley's life?"

"No, but..."

"Look, I know you can relate to this. You know Aragog, how you loved him and everyone else thought you were crazy? How people treated you when they found out you were half giant? How people respond to Thestrals? To dragons? Snape? 'Misunderstood creatures,' remember? That's what happens when people make judgements with only part of the information. What you're doing to Draco, that's what people do to Werewolves."

"I guess I never looked at 'Im that way."

"Well, now's your chance."

"You've grown into a great wizard, 'Arry. Yer mum an' dad would be proud."

"Thanks, Hagrid. It's wonderful to see you again."

He leaned forward to hug the larger man. No matter how much time passed, being held in giant arms would always make him feel like a kid again.

-- -- -- -- --

During the next two weeks, more staff arrived at Hogwarts, mostly their old professors, who were all very familiar with both men already. It seemed the only other new faces among the staff were Gerald Bath, the new caretaker, taking over after the recent death of Argus Filch, and Gillian Baxter-St. LaMere, the new Transfiguration professor. Gerald seemed to be cut from the same mould as Filch; both gaunt, grumpy, strict, and not very social. The only real difference was that Gerald was younger, and not a squib, if the wand shoved through his belt loop was any indication. Gillian was another matter. She was bubbly and very social, especially where Harry was concerned. The first staff meeting was a clear illustration of this. Taking place the eve of August 31st, it was the first formal meeting of faculty, meant as an introduction and welcome to the new professors. It also happened to be the first time Gillian had had a chance to meet Harry. She had only arrived that afternoon, and had not gotten to speak with Harry at dinner, as he had been engrossed in a conversation with Minerva about his ideas for teaching. She had arrived early to the meeting, hoping to see Harry, and was talking to Minerva when he walked into the room with Draco.

Minerva was please that both men seemed to have gotten over themselves, and actually seemed to have become friends. Gillian just seemed to be excited that Harry had arrived. As soon as they entered, she hopped out of her chair.

"Gillian Baxter-St. LaMere, Transfiguration." She enthusiastically offered her hand to Harry.

"Harry Potter, Defence Against the Dark Arts," He shook her hand. "This is Draco Malfoy, Potions."

She seemed reluctant to release Harry's hand, but eventually did, giving Draco's a quick jiggle, and dropping it twice as fast. The men turned to sit together on a short sofa, and Gillian appeared put-out that she couldn't sit near Harry. Instead she grabbed a nearby straight-backed chair and pulled it over, questioning Harry about his experience with defence. He replied politely, but Minerva sensed the smile on his face had become fixed. It was understandable that Gillian found Harry fascinating, he had had an eventful life, but it was also understandable that Harry was uncomfortable talking about his past. To give the man some respite, Minerva called the meeting to order, first introducing the new faculty, then handing out class schedules. Each professor then had a chance to speak briefly about their plans for the year. Gillian couldn't seem to keep her eyes off Harry, even when someone else was speaking. Of course, even as a boy, he had been charmingly charismatic, and nothing had changed in that department. After the meeting, most of the staff stayed behind to share some tea, and Gillian seemed extremely put-out when Harry and Draco left together instead of joining them.

Of course, each staff member had their own way to prepare for the arrival of the students the next day. Minerva sipped her glass of brandy as she watched Gillian and Pomona talk about Asian plants, and Filius and Aurora play a game of chess; each professor, in their own way, enjoying the calm before the storm.

TBC