Hi guys! I'm sorry for the lateness of this chapter. There's so much going on in life right now that I just forget to post, even though the story's already finished. So I decided to finish it up, as I will keep forgetting.

Enjoy

Chapter 8

Harry cuddled closer to the taller man lying next to him, hiding his face against his chest. He was still half asleep, a content smile across his lips as his body drank in the warmth of Malfoy's presence. The softness of the feathery mattress and the protective arm wrapped over Harry's body engulfed him, nearly falling back asleep. Just then, Malfoy let out a soft snore, loud enough to wake Harry up a little more.

Slowly, Harry realised that he wasn't home with Ginny. Memories of the night before trickled back into his mind. He and Malfoy had met up after closing off the shop. Cormac wasn't home, and Ginny had planned a girl's night with Hermione and Luna. Having the time to themselves, they decided to go over to Malfoy's place.

Malfoy had fixed them a delicious meal and much to the blonde's displease, Harry had been monitoring every move he made. Paprika, filled with broccoli and mozzarella with mashed potatoes and grilled chicken. The dining table was lit with candlelight, creating a romantic atmosphere and underneath the table, Harry's feet were playing with Malfoys. They had done the washing up together, the Muggle way – in which Malfoy didn't stop complaining about how difficult Muggles made it themselves, and Harry kept spraying the blonde with water and foam.

Then they'd gone to the living room, the exact same room in which Harry had arrived when trying to persuade Malfoy to leave him alone. That seemed like a lifetime ago – even though it was just two months. They had made themselves comfortable in the sofa, a big white leather one, placing a large bowl of chocolate mousse between their legs to share, recollecting memories from Hogwarts. They had talked for hours, the fire crackling comfortably on, the lights dimmed.

Then, when their eyes were itching with tiredness, Malfoy had lead Harry to the bedroom. They had taken off their clothes and crawled into the bed together, lying naked underneath the blanket. They had cuddled and kissed. To Harry it should have lasted an eternity. But soon enough, the tiredness had gotten the better part of them and both of them had fallen asleep.

The memories brought a smile on Harry's face, Malfoy's soft chest hairs tickling his lips. The blonde's scent was all around him. Harry could still taste him on his lips. He closed his eyes again, and wondered if he had ever felt this carefree with Ginny. A frown rippled Harry's forehead. Being with Ginny was completely different. But that didn't mean it wasn't good, either. Harry bit his lip, cursing himself for disturbing the peace with his confusing thoughts.

Ginny had no idea he was here. She wouldn't arrive until Sunday evening, which meant Harry could spend tomorrow morning with Malfoy as well. That thought seemed to soothe Harry's conscious again. He curled his toes up in pleasure, thinking about spending more time with the man and arched his back, before cuddling against Malfoy again and settling himself to go back to sleep. Malfoy pulled Harry closer in his sleep. Engulfed in the enjoyable heat, it didn't take long for Harry to dose off again.

"Hey, sleepyhead!" Harry frowned, trying to remember why he was lying in a bed made up of the softest clouds and why a man was shouting at him. He wasn't doing anything wrong by enjoying this peaceful environment, was he?

"Come on, lazybones! Do you want to spent the whole day sleeping? You can sleep when you're back home. Cormac said he's stopping by to get some stuff. I don't want to be home when he comes." Cormac? That sounded familiar. The voice was very familiar too, now that he came to think of it. It belonged to a boy he'd known at Hogwarts. A blonde-haired Slytherin boy. Harry furrowed. He wasn't in Hogwarts anymore. In fact, he was living on his own now, together with Ginny. Hold on a second, where was Ginny? Had Malfoy kidnapped her? Malfoy… Harry opened one lazy eye.

"Finally. I was starting to think you had dropped dead or something," Malfoy exclaimed, exasperated.

"Morning," Harry mumbled, his brains finally catching up with him. He got up from underneath the pile of blankets and started making his way to the door. "Mind showing me the bathroom?" he questioned.

Malfoy, however, had stopped his actions mid-air, looking at Harry as if he'd just transformed into Lord Voldemort himself. "You – you're not wearing anything," he brought out. Harry instantly turned as red as a beetroot.

"I – er," He brought out, smiling sheepishly and looking around for his clothes while trying to cover himself up, but failing miserably. Malfoy crossed his arms in front of his chest, an amused smile on his face. Harry quickly jumped into his boxers and marched out the door, only to realise he had no clue where the restroom was.

"Second door on your left," Malfoy gestured from the doorway, the corner of his mouth still curled up into an crooked grin.

A few minutes later, Harry sat down in his underwear, still feeling slightly flustered, looking at the breakfast Malfoy had made.

"How long have you been up for?" Harry questioned, looking at all the food with a growing appetite. He pulled the plate of toasts closer and smeared one with jelly. Malfoy filled their glasses with pumpkin juice and took a bowl of cereal.

"About half an hour to get everything ready here," Malfoy responded. "Like I said, I want to get back to your place, just in case Cormac decides to stop by. He was caught up with his friends all evening yesterday, but he let it slip that he would pick up some stuff today, so…"

"Okay. I'll get myself ready then. I mean, you don't mind spending today with me, do you? If you rather do something else or do something with Cormac, …" Harry trailed off, feeling unsure. He took a bite from his jelly to cover up his uncertainty.

"Are you kidding me? I can spend every day with him. I'm coming over to your place whether you want it or not, Potter." Harry felt a tug in his abdomen upon hearing the growl in Malfoy's voice.

"Alright. Just making sure," he replied breathlessly, happily chewing his toast. He wouldn't mind waking up with Malfoy every day.

"But I'm not sure whether we will make in in time, Potter," Malfoy added darkly, his gaze wandering over Harry's half naked body. "If you keep provoking me like that…"

Trying to ignore Malfoy's suggestive undertones, Harry waved the comment about the clothes away. "I'll make a mental note to put my clothes on, alright? Now, what do you want to do, when we get to my place?" As soon as the sentence had left his mouth, Harry realised it had been the wrong thing to say at that point in their conversation.

"Isn't it obvious?" Malfoy said huskily. Harry threw a piece of toast at the blonde, earning him a scowl.

"I'm going to get ready, you horny Ferret," Harry muttered, a half amused tug around his mouth. Malfoy wriggled his eyebrows, which made it all the more difficult for Harry to ignore his hormones. He shielded his hardness from Malfoy's piercing gaze and quickly disappeared into the bedroom.

"Aren't you supposed to make it look like you slept alone?" Harry questioned, while pulling his shirt on. The room was messy, both pillows had been slept on and the creases in the mattress clearly showed that Malfoy had had company. Harry was wrestling with the legs of his pants when Malfoy entered the room. With a flick of his wand, everything was clean and Harry offered the blonde an irritated glare.

"You could have just made the bed too, you know," He noted dryly. Malfoy just shrugged.

"Come on, let's get going. I don't want to be caught here with you." Harry shook his head, eyed the smooth covers with a suspicious stare and then followed Malfoy outside. The fire was already green when Harry arrived in the living room, and Malfoy gestured him forward.

When arriving home, Harry checked all the rooms first before giving Malfoy the okay sign, and then he also arrived through the chimney network. "Make yourself at home," Harry said, turning around, heading for the kitchen.

"No problem," Malfoy responded, plopping down on the sofa, letting out a relaxed sigh. Harry rolled his eyes. "You in for some Butterbeer?" he called from the kitchen. He felt strangely nervous and excited at the same time, by having Malfoy over, as if he had been forbidden something by the Dursleys and he was doing it anyway.

Malfoy's long legs were dangling over the armsupport of the couch and lazily took the bottle of Butterbeer Harry held out. "So what do you want to do? Hang around on the sofa all afternoon?"

"I know a thing or two we can do on this sofa, Potter." He moved his eyebrows up and down rapidly.

"I hope that includes something that doesn't involve having sex?" Harry responded drily. Nevertheless, Harry couldn't ignore the hot sensation gliding down his back upon hearing the rawness in Malfoy's voice.

"Hey, what put you in such a foul mood? What makes you think I was going to suggest that?" Malfoy retorted with an innocent sugary pout on his face. Harry just shook his head and smiled.

"Well, what's your suggestion then?" Harry inquired, a Hermione-like expression on his face. Malfoy wasn't taken aback by Harry's tone, and just stretched in the sofa, taking up even more space than before.

"You got a game of chess here?" Harry felt both surprised and a little disappointed that the subject of the conversation had changed, but he nodded nevertheless.

"Wizard or Muggle chess?"

"Wizard Chess, Potter. What on this entire planet made you think I would ask for a game of Muggle Chess. How dull would that be? The pieces don't even do anything, you have to do everything yourself." Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes, but couldn't prevent a smile from crossing his face either.

"And as my experience with you has taught me, you don't like doing much yourself, do you," Harry added sarcastically. He summoned the box of chess with a simple Accio, removed Malfoy's legs from his part of the sofa and sat down.

"Look who's talking," Malfoy said, unimpressed. "I want to be white," he added eagerly, ordering the porcelain pieces to assemble. Five minutes into the game, Harry knew that he'd signed up for his own downfall. Malfoy was a lot better than he let on, and Harry knew Ron would find a good chess playmate in him. If they'd ever be able to get along. Somehow, Malfoy had managed to clear half of Harry's chess pieces, while Harry had just smashed two.

"You're rubbish at this Potter. I thought you'd be better, since you got some training from the Weasel." Malfoy seemed to enjoying himself to its fullest, and Harry was grumbling, frowning at the board, trying to figure out to still win the game without losing any more pawns. The black ones had already lost all confidence in him. They shouted various directions at him, which made it all the more difficult to keep a cool head.

"It's no use playing against Ron. He always beats me," Harry muttered, while trying to find a way to get the very good protected White King. The last remaining Tower was scowling at him, while the Bishop was shouting at him: "What in the Wizarding World are you doing? You're getting us all killed!"

"Pawn to E4," Harry said. "Oh good Lord, he's done it again," sighed the Black Queen. The pawn reluctantly moved to the indicated spot, smashed Malfoy's White Horse into pieces and dragged the remains off the board with a triumphant look on its face. When it positioned on its spot again, Malfoy's Queen shot a malicious look at Harry's Queen – who knew this was going to happen, Harry realised a little too late – glided forward and sliced off the pawn's head.

"Hey! That wasn't necessary!" Harry shouted at Malfoy, who was merely smirking. "You teach your bloody pieces some manners!" Harry slammed his fist into the sofa grumpily, cursing himself for not reacting to Malfoy's romantic advances before, and now being stuck in that bloody game.

"You're a bad loser, Potter." Malfoy seemed to be enjoying himself to its fullest.

"I hate this game," Harry growled, refraining himself from kicking the game off the sofa. He was getting restless and needed to work off his frustration. He stood up, stretching his neck and marched around the coffee table.

"Of course you do, because you can't win," Malfoy said with malicious delight. His pieces were shaking each other's hand, congratulation one another on their good game, some others were laughing at the battered black pieces, who withdrew from the board with angry faces, throwing Harry a reproachful glance every now and then.

Harry's attention wavered from the chess pieces, as they all withdrew, relieved for the game to be over. He was used to losing to Ron, but losing to Malfoy stung a little more, as the blonde was very smug about it.

"Remember this?" Harry questioned, swiftly changing the subject, turning up the radio when the Weird Sisters came on. "Yule ball, back in our fourth year?"

"I do remember. We were still little brats back then." Malfoy got up from the

"You're still a brat. Good music, nevertheless," said Harry, moving to the beat, shaking his shoulders a little. Malfoy pulled one eyebrow, then chuckled and started dancing as well. When the chorus came on, they both started singing loudly:

"Oh! Can you dance like a hippogriff? Na na na ma ma ny na na ny na! Flyin' off from a cliff, Na na na ma ma ny na na ny na!" Malfoy grabbed Harry's hands and swung them above his head, making him turn in a circle. Their hips brushed together, and Harry looked up at the blonde with a smile.

"That's much better than that stupid game of chess." Malfoy just shook his head, took Harry's chin between his thumb and index finger and placed a peck on Harry's lips.

"But you're rubbish at dancing too, Potter," Malfoy smirked, as Harry kept moving to the beat. Malfoy on the other hand, had something gracious about him and moved very elegantly. Harry just shrugged and kept dancing, earning another smile from the blonde. The music was so loud, that at first, they didn't hear the call coming from the Fireplace.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, above the music, so they both froze in the moment. It was as if someone had emptied a bucket of ice cold water on top of Harry's head. How long would Ron have been standing there. Had he seen them kissing?

"Ron, er – what an inconvenient moment - Er – Malfoy just stopped by and we were – er – dancing," Harry stuttered, looking startled from Malfoy to his best friend. Ron had a deep crease in his forehead, and his blue eyes did not carry his usual friendly smile. Malfoy's cheeks were slightly pink, but apart from that, he seemed completely calm.

"Right then Potter. It was nice seeing you. I'll stop by at a later time to give you the details about the dinner with you and Ginny." With those words, Malfoy stepped into the fireplace and disappeared. Harry was both annoyed and grateful for Malfoy's departure. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Ron.

"Er, Malfoy wanted to organise a dinner with me and Ginny and his boyfriend Cormac."

"I remember that bloke. He used to hit on Hermione," Ron said disapprovingly, crossing his arms in front of chest. Harry did not take that as a good sign. Asking him how long he had been standing there would come across as suspicious, as well as asking him what exactly he had seen. Harry didn't want Ron to think he was hiding something, but being caught in the heat of the moment was something Harry had never imagined would happen.

"What were you dancing with him for?" Ron asked. Harry's neck turned red, fumbling with his feet. He caught on to his own behaviour and tried to act a little more cool.

"It was just a good song. Reminded me of fourth year. Hogwarts, good times." Harry's voice sounded a little strange, as if he wasn't his own self right now and he heard someone else talking. Ron's frown didn't leave his face. "We were kind of lost in the moment," Harry added breathlessly.

"Clearly. I could see that. You were standing awfully close to one another. It reminded me of sixth year. I saw you two together, too." Harry quirked an eyebrow. Of all the people he knew, he would never have expected Ron to be on to his relationship with Malfoy, not now, not back at Hogwarts.

"It's – nothing." Harry had no idea how to behave himself. Not only did Ron just witness them standing chest to chest, he'd also just admitted seeing them close during Hogwarts.

"I can tell you're hiding something, Harry. I don't know why. You're getting married to my sister, do you know that?"

"I do," Harry responded coolly. As if he could ever forget that. As if he could ever forget that he popped the question to forget about the kiss with Malfoy. To prove to himself that Malfoy was in fact a part of his past and not his present. But that had been a mistake. He'd never wanted to get married with Ginny. Not before, and sadly, not now either. But Ron didn't have to know that. "Why are you saying that?"

"Why are you kissing Malfoy then. I saw you. He leaned in to you," Ron spilled. His blue eyes were reproachful, and Harry's courage sank into his shoes. He had seen it. Even though Ron didn't seem very sure about anything, he still had seen it. And that was enough. The bucked of ice cold water had magically transformed itself to ice cubes in Harry's stomach.

"It was – nothing," Harry mumbled to his feet. That was the best he could come up with. What did he have to say? 'Oh Ron, you haven't even seen the best of it yet, we're having sex whenever we can, we sneak off together to make out under the treetops." Harry suppressed a sarcastic smile. "Ron, I – don't know how to explain it, but-"

"You'll still have to. I want to know why you're cheating on my sister." Harry scowled at his best friend. Why did he have to use the word 'my sister'. Harry knew bloody damn well that she was Ron's sister, but she was his girlfriend for a starters!

"I'm not cheating on her. It was an accident. I would just – want you not to mention it to anybody. I don't want anyone to start thinking I fancy Malfoy," Harry said hastily, trying to sound as if he'd rather die before that happened. Ron still didn't move. Harry gulped. This was going to be more difficult than it seemed.

"An accident? He asked you and Ginny to diner. How long have you been in contact?" The years of marriage with Hermione had clearly made Ron a lot more attentive and sceptical, and Harry took a moment to curse the bright woman.

"He just stopped by the shop once to look into an animal, but he didn't buy anything. And we only just saw each other at the anniversary a couple months ago, and that's it. Nothing more to it. But we're grownups now, so we don't – er – hate each other anymore. At least, I try to be more civilised," Harry trailed off again, knowing how stupid he sounded. Ron's shoulders sacked, and for a moment he looked defeated.

"I – I just don't want you to hurt Ginny. She cares a lot about you, you know. I really don't know what I just saw. I know there was something between the two of you back in school but I thought that was all over, since you and Ginny hit it off pretty well… But now this? I don't understand."

"I-" Harry started, but he knew he couldn't talk himself out of this. Not unless he was completely honest, and he knew Ron wouldn't understand. He felt more and more guilty with each lie he stacked on top of the other and for a moment, Harry opened his mouth to spill it all, like a poisonous potion he'd held down for too long. But then Ron spoke again.

"I never understood why you didn't tell us though." The Redhead stepped forward and took a seat on the sofa. "About Malfoy."

"I had no idea you knew. It was a phase I was going through. Nothing really. I broke it off after a short time and it just never occurred…"

"Still. You were a lot more excited about that than about your wedding with Ginny. I know you're lying to me, Harry. I know you better than that, and you should know better too than to try and sell me that shit to my face. I'm just thinking, were you trying to cover up for an adventure with Malfoy too, when you used me as your excuse? There's no surprise, is there?"

"There is a surprise!" Harry exclaimed. He felt his entire life slipping away through his fingers, as if he was trying to hold water in the palm of his hands. "I just – I," Harry trailed off, sitting down next to Ron miserably. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears pricking in his eyes. Ron remained silent for a while. Then he wrapped an arm around Harry.

"I said I don't want you to hurt Ginny. But, … I don't want you to be unhappy either, Harry. If – if Malfoy makes you happy – which I highly doubt you do – but should that be the case then I – I… I would find a way to deal with it." Harry looked up at Ron in surprise. He hadn't expected this, and most certainly not from Ron.

"You mean, you wouldn't mind…"

"Don't get me wrong, I'd still be pissed at you for lying to us, for fooling my sister and for being so stupid to start liking that filthy Slytherin scum, but… You're my best friend Harry. We've known each other since we were eleven. I'd accept it – I'd live with it – I think." Harry sat silent for a while, letting the conversation sink in. Ron wouldn't mind? Was that possible? Was he dreaming? Would he wake up in a few minutes at Malfoy's place, still warmly tucked beneath the feathery blankets?

"The point is, I'm don't know what I want. I – I'm kinda trying to find out?" Harry said sheepishly, avoiding Ron's gaze. "I'm still in love with Ginny, but I'm also… you know, er - There's been something going on between me and Malfoy since the anniversary – and I'm not sure – er – what it is exactly. Yet."

"Okay. At least you're being honest. I appreciate that." He could tell from the tone that Ron was pulling a face. But at least he didn't freak out.

"I just… I would like you to keep it quiet… to Ginny… So I don't have to hurt her more than I have to. I could never leave her if I wasn't sure so – I have to find out." Ron had a pained expression of his face, as if picturing Harry and Malfoy together was something extremely revolting, but he nodded nevertheless.

"But you do realise I can't keep this from Hermione, right?"

"Could you try?" Harry begged, not wanting an angry, inquiring Hermione on his doorstep, the second Ron left.

"You know that's not possible – I – But Malfoy, for Merlin's sake?" Ron exclaimed. Even though, Harry couldn't believe his luck. He'd expected Ron to burst out yelling that he never wanted to see him again.

"I'm sorry," Harry half whispered, looking down at his lap. He was startled by the smack Ron gave him on the back, and when he looked up, he saw that Ron was grinning.

"You really are something, Harry." The Redhead shook his head in disbelief. "I think this asks for a Firewhisky. And since the women aren't coming home soon, we might as well make it two." Harry smiled, feeling strangely relieved to have shared the burden with his best friend, and summoned two glasses and the entire bottle of Firewhisky.

"So, tell me, how exactly are you trying to find out what you want?" Ron asked. Harry nearly choked on his first sip.

"You do realise you'll have to pump a lot more whisky in me to make me spill that."

"You're not – you know…?" Ron asked, taking a full shot of Firewhisky without even blinking.

"You know… what?" Harry asked, turning red again.

"Getting involved. In those matters," Ron muttered between his teeth, casting a downward glance at his pants. Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

"I'm not answering that!" he brought out with dignity.

"Yeah, better not," Ron muttered, almost as red in the face as Harry. "I don't really understand it though. Why Malfoy?"

"Yeah, I feel you. That's the question. Why him? It beats me," Harry responded, shaking his head in amazement. "Of all people, why Malfoy?"

To be continued…