Last chapter! It has been a longer journey than expected, I am sorry it took so long to reach this stage but we are finally here and I hope you all enjoy it!
As I asked before, I have an idea for a one shot after this, kind of a side story, but I don't really want to rush or push the story any further... so I will leave it to you guys to decide if you want more in the reviews :)


Saturday came as the most horrible day for dating in history, as told by Malfoy, who was waiting near an apparition point for Potter to show up, with an umbrella tightly held on his left hand and his body as still as a log under it.

Above, the sky was grenading water. Hail would be a much better weather, Draco thought, since the drops were so big and so many, that the Impervius charm on his boots and trousers was almost not enough to hold them back.

Harry was not late. Draco had been early to their rendezvous point, and so, exposed to the wraith of nature earlier. Although, the other didn't take long to apparate beside him as the clock stroked past six p.m. Looking alarmed to see Draco there first, under the pouring rain he was probably not expecting, as he stepped under Malfoy's umbrella and brushed off the water that made it to his clothes.

"Hullo, Malfoy," he said casting some quick drying and water-repellant charms on himself, "Magnificent weather we are having," he squinted to the pitch black sky on the horizon, promising even more water.

"Only you would say that," Draco considered, maneuvering the umbrella between them. "I hope this place you mentioned has a ceiling. At least."

"I am afraid it does," he smiled, "But that should be of no problem, we could eat on the terrace," he commented as he motioned to a path east, and they fell into an even step side by side under the rain.

"Oh, and what, may I ask, are we going to eat? Seafood?" the other joked, sounding displeased with the whole deal, but sticking along with Harry.

"Bah, bland. Can you make a funnier joke? You could have suggested watermelon, I'll give you another try," he said, not looking anywhere but ahead, showing the nervousness his jokes were trying to hide.

"Watermelon? Seriously?" Malfoy just played his game, he was somewhat anxious as well, but talking made it easier.

"Yes, we shouldn't take long now, let's turn here," the man motioned to a closed alley and felt the arm that was holding the umbrella tense. "Oh, come on! You are a wizard and you tense when you go into an alley, what are you, batman?"

"I still don't know what is this place and why is in the middle of muggle London, so yes, I would tense with or without magic." Despite, his arm relaxed somewhat.

Harry just chuckled and stopped at the end of the alley, wand on hand already, tapped two times on the darkest brick on the wall. The wall started to shimmer away and then presented a couple of wooden doors, tightly closed.

"Uh, oh," was what came out of Harry's mouth, wide-eyed, turned to Draco with an apprehensive expression. "Normally the doors would be open… it's, a magical garden, rain shouldn't be a problem and I called just yesterday to check. They serve the best kind of oriental teas and dishes, I," the man grumbled looking form the door to Draco's face minutely.

The blonde put a hand to the other's shoulder to make him settle. "You are rambling," he said simply. "We can come another day, maybe next Friday, we could–"

"No, no. I wanted to spend this time with you so we could clear out what happened on the hospital, and we are going to do just that. We don't need a fancy place, we could go to my flat if you are okay with that?" he asked, a little sheepishly.

Malfoy sighed and considered the idea. In spite of the rain, it was early and he got until Sunday night to return to St. Mungo, he made sure to have ample time to recover from whatever shock he had to go through today with Potter. Now the idea of going to Harry's place was up, he hadn't count on that.

After Harry's hospital stay they had not been in contact except for the couple of owls they have exchanged to settle the 'confirmation' and the coordinates of the apparition point they used. Harry was released from St. Mungo without much distress and his friends were there with him on his last day, just the main two though, thanking everybody involved and dealing roses to the nurses, Mediwizards and Healers apiece. Malfoy got a bouquet of narcissuses, which he appreciated.

After a heartbeat of thinking, and when Harry was growing noticeably shaken by the silence, the Healer sighed and assented.

-.-.-

The apartment was nice. And it was not Grimmauld place, thank Merlin. Surprisingly, it was in a neutral neighborhood, inhabited by muggles but mostly by wizards and witches.

Harry guided him up two flies of stairs and to the farthest door on the right side of a three-way hallway. He put out the wards on the door and let him in without a word. Silence was the new nervousness indication.

Draco stepped in, and the first thing he noticed was that the apartment was nice. The living room walls were an orangey color, salmon he thought later. One of the walls, the first one you saw upon entering, ran up to the kitchen and was covered in planks of wood, some were juxtaposed on top of others and had lights behind them, making the wall glow, the only light on the space, but it was enough and produced a cozy feeling, sun-light-leaking through-wood feeling.

The furniture was another deal. A beige loveseat seemed new and unused right in front of the wooden wall, a worn out caramel-colored comfort chair on the right corner of the flat, flanked by a wide windowsill decorated with several terrariums on one side and a shelve of books and a TV to the other side, lined up to the loveseat. The coffee table in the middle was a piece of art; it looked like the base was the 3D painting of roots, and the top was a thin and oddly shaped tree trunk, you could see the rings clearly under the glass that secured it.

On the left side, the kitchen sported much brighter colors in lime and pastel yellow and drop-like light bulbs hanging here and there giving it more light. It was a nice modern contrast from the rustic touch of the other room.

Malfoy took the sight in pleasantly, as Harry took his jacket off and hung it behind the door, extending his hand to him, so he took off his too and handed it over.

"So, um, welcome, I think, I hope you find it to your liking, is not a manor but is nice," said his host.

Nice. That it was.

"I am fairly impressed to tell you the truth," he appreciated, smirking, "I was expecting a shit hole, the contrast is welcomed." He just shrugged hoping the other wouldn't take his comment at heart.

Harry made a little nervous laugh while he rubbed his hands on his jeans, and then hauled the sleeves of his navy blue sweater up to his elbows. "Uh, please take a seat," he pointed the loveseat but in a motion that suggested he could seat on the comfort chair as well. "Since the plan was dinner, I will fix something real quick." He was already stepping in the space that divided the kitchen with the main room, which was a made-shift 'island' attached to the wall made on black bricks with high seats on the side of the kitchen.

Draco arched is brow, "Can I help?"

"Well, actually yeah," he said now fully on the kitchen and starting to take things out. Doing this motion seems to calm the other man considerably. "You can tell me what you'd like to have for dinner. I don't have a menu but I can make virtually everything?" he said uncertainly and eyed Draco with suspicion, "but nothing too fancy," he finished.

"Right," Malfoy pursed his lips, "And how do I trust your cooking skills?"

"Well, I wasn't starved to death when I was brought into the hospital, just cursed," he smirked.

"Point given," Malfoy looked at what Harry was taking out, "So what's in the menu?" he asked even when it was stated that there wasn't one.

Harry rolled his eyes and looked at the ingredients, "the options are steak, salmon or shrimp, chicken. Or it could be pasta, or if you are on some sort of diet I can make a respectable vegetable stir-fry."

"No diet, but I haven't been eating healthy either," he mused. "I guess the stir-fry would be fine, and definitely salmon," Malfoy commented already seated on one of the stools and with his chin propped up his arm, leaning forward to see the kitchen better.

Harry nodded sharply and moved around taking things out and moving things in, seeming a lot more comfortable now that he was apparently doing what he felt like common ground. Malfoy thought about that, it was a good sight, Harry moving confidently, although he could see a little stiffness on the other's shoulders still.

Potter didn't mind, or it looked like he didn't, being seen while he cooked. As he chopped things away with ease, he looked like one of those guys in cooking programs.

After minutes of silence, and once Harry was apparently not that concentrated with a knife, Draco said, "Is this what you'd rather do if you weren't an Auror?"

Harry turned to him, pushing up his glasses a little; he tilted his head, "Huh?"

"Cooking," he clarified, "Is cooking what you would rather do if you were not an Auror?" he posed the question again, with a clear voice.

The other looked back at the food and then at the blonde, puzzled. "Oh, well, shouldn't you be asking that after you try this?" he pointed at the pan.

Malfoy shrugged. "Your lack of confidence might be disturbing, but at least my sense of smell is really keen," he tapped his nose gently, "Potions master, remember?"

"Your point being?" he huffed, turning to pour some other things on the pan and stir its content with some decisive motions, flipping the content of the pan in the air and then using the utensil just to spread them out.

"That, it smells very good, you are selling yourself short." He pursed his lips at the flip, "You even know how to do that with the pan."

Harry turned his head and looked at him over his shoulder, "It's called a wok, and no, I am not selling myself in any way, it is just…" he looked again at the food, turning the salmon over and then taking it out of the heat, leaving the vegetables a couple more minutes. "I haven't think of what I'd rather do once I'm not an Auror. It seems like I would be doing that until I retire."

"Shame," Malfoy mussed eyeing him and hopping out of the stool. "Where do you store the dishes?" he asked offhandedly entering into the kitchen.

"Sit down Malfoy, you are my guest you don't have to do that," he reproached.

"I do not, but I will anyway," he started looking for them by himself, as the other wasn't contributing, so Harry just gave in and told him. Promptly the tabletop on the island was lined up with little oval tablecloths, squared black plates, tall thin crystal glasses and very slick, modern-designed cutlery. He even placed two cloth napkins folded into orchids on top of each plate.

When Harry approached the island to place the food on the heat stoppers, he raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "Wow," he just said as he wiped his hands on a towel, handing it to Draco who just finished rising his hands as well. "I didn't know my stuff could look that well."

"You took the word out of my mouth," the blonde said sitting down on his stool again, looking longingly at what was served. The vegetables shone and he was sure they were crunchy even when there were copious amounts of brown looking sauce over them, probably sweet and sour. The salmon was rosy and full-bodied, thick with meat. He swallowed.

"Only way to find out," Harry smiled and raised a fork up to him, serving Draco's plate. Once both plates were filed, he waited for the other to bit first. His heart pumping, nerves on edge.

Malfoy didn't make a big deal on his first bite. He speared one of each of the veggies and took a piece of the fish, which slid through the fork like water. However, once the food touched his palates, the blonde closed his eyes and sighed deeply, throaty, almost like a moan.

Harry shivered. "Well?" he whispered, starting to eat finally.

Draco opened his eyes dazedly and looked at Harry with new eyes. "What? Do I need to use words?" was the remark, and he kept eating contentedly.

Harry just snorted, shaking his head a little, falling into silence as they ate.

-.-.-

It was nine p.m. already, and Draco could swear this night was all kinds of odd. Outside was still raining, swiftly now, as he could see thinner drops hitting on the ample windows. Dinner had been a success even when Potter tried to convince him it had just been normal. He kept praising him teasingly over the course of it. Afterwards, Harry made them dessert. Something very simple but gloriously good as a shot of espresso with a big spoon of custard-flavored ice cream. They made small talk while facing each other in the loveseat, Harry had one leg up his side of the seat, in which he balanced his cup and saucer, while Draco just had one crossed over the other, cup and saucer already empty on the coffee table.

"This is nice," thought Draco looking over the window as Harry put the cups away.

"We could do it more often, then," answered Harry softly, as he took his seat again beside him.

Draco jumped a little. Had he just said that aloud? "Do what?" he muttered pretending not to admit he had just said that.

"Well, have dinners here, or just talk, we can still meet up and go to that place we were supposed to, before," he explained as he brushed his hair with his hand and Draco followed the hand and suddenly wanted to try that too. "I don't know, this, as you said."

"I don't think you'll withstand me being around you that much time." He looked around as to distract himself from the sight of Harry. "I am very obnoxious, you know?"

"I know, I don't care," he looked up shrugging; "I am very stubborn and impulsive, you know?" he countered. Draco was expecting that so he backed up a little on the seat and acted as if surprised. "You don't say," was his retort. Harry kicked his thigh softly with his foot.

"Prat," he said.

I know. Draco thought, just smirking at Harry. "Yeah, we could do this more often," he admitted. "We haven't got a chance to sort anything out, and I don't know about you but today is not that kind of day," he stretched his legs a little but resumed shortly his upright position. Harry kicked him again.

"You can relax here, you know?" he said inquisitively raising his eyebrows, "It is not like I haven't beat you down and got what I wanted before," he joked, leaning into the armrest smugly.

"Ha, bloody ha. I can still duel you, now with my eyes closed. Try to cast a snake on me again though; I think I know more on that too now, thanks to that curse… Do you know that there are over three thousand snake species and 375 of those are venomous? I memorized the name of all 375," he exaggerated a shudder.

Harry smiled warmly and looked Draco full in the eyes. "You know I wanted this to be a Thank You dinner, but it really isn't enough," he whispered and sighed a little. "And I really need to say it regardless, so thank you for curing me, Draco."

And thank you for giving me this chance too. He thought, still smiling.

"Never you mind, just doing what I do," brushed off the Healer, trying not to blush under that smile. His neck was hot. "Just try to be careful out there, I will be here to get you back up, but there will be a time when your luck runs out," he scolded, but kept a light tone.

"What would be of the savior without his personal savior," said Harry, smirking now, teasingly.

"Oh, please, you're not that special," scoffed the other turning again to the window.

"No but you are,"

"That's right," he joked.

"No, seriously, Draco, you are." The voice, warm and even, surrounded him pleasantly. Or was it his imagination? "Draco, look at me," Harry's voice pleaded, a little too close to his ear. Was that his imagination too?

Draco had no time to find out, since as soon as he turned, he felt a pair of lips plunging his down. The touch burned and a hand rested on his shoulder now, he took the elbow attached to it for balance and got the chance to run a hand through those brown curls he fancied so much.

Harry kissed him briefly, not asking, not demanding, just sharing; sharing all the new feelings both were harboring now.

Harry whispered something in between kisses and Draco was sure it sounded like bloody parseltongue, but he couldn't give a damn now. He was getting what he wanted.

This is nice. He thought again, realizing they got all the time in the world now to figure things out.

END.