10. Dinner For Two.
Wrapped in a long black coat with a thick fur collar, Draco Malfoy set out from his house on Jasmine Avenue and headed towards Chalice Gate. He carried 2 bottles of wine. Red? White? He couldn't decide so he had gone with both.
Dinner with Potter. If two months ago someone had told Draco he would be going for dinner with Potter, he would never have believed them! Potter was the last person in the world he would have expected to be having dinner with. He certainly would never have pictured having trying on five potential outfits for the occasion before finally picking one and still not being entirely happy with it.
Rounding the corner of Chalice Gate his stomach flipped as he saw the oddly familiar yet somehow completely unfamiliar image of himself, scantily clad and smiling on the billboard at the end of the street. Sure, he looked great. Sexy. Desirable. But somehow it was mortifying to think that Potter might have seen this. In fact there would be no might about it. He lived on this street. He couldn't not have seen it. Draco cringed.
Potter seeing him like that! Potter, seeing him in underwear with his wrists tied together! It was so embarrassing! Potter was under secretary to the minister of magic, for goodness sake! Potter had been an auror, he had caught dark wizards and done important, serious work. He was hardly going to take a person seriously if they made a living from posing in their pants, was he? Draco wondered if there was anything he could do to make himself seem more intelligent and more sensible. Hopefully this was the only picture Potter would have seen.
It was not. By Wednesday lunch time, Harry had been treated, or subjected to, other pictures from the latest ad campaign. Lavender Brown, a clerical assistant in his team, along with Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones had all been screeching and giggling over a magazine during the Tuesday morning coffee break and had insisted on thrusting it right under Harry's nose as he tried to relax and enjoy a few moments to himself between tasks.
'I don't care if he was a bastard at school...' Lavender said defiantly. 'He's totally lush! What do you think Harry?'
Harry had nearly choked on his coffee.
He gulped as he found himself staring at a picture of Draco in a pair of black velvet underpants with several strings of black beads, jewels and chains around his neck, cascading down over his chest. He sat, half reclining against another male model. A muscular man with long black hair and a chiselled face, with a stern expression a possessive hand resting on Draco's shoulder. Draco was also wearing what could only be described as stockings, long sheer black socks that came up to the tops of his thighs, making his legs look extremely elegant and seductive.
'Do you mind! I'm trying to have my coffee!' Harry exclaimed, staring at the picture none the less.
He was vexed by the dark haired man but intrigued by the stockings... They weren't an uncommon item for wizards to wear, giving the popularity of traditional robes, but Harry had never actually seen a wizard wearing them before. His ex boyfriends had been muggle born or half bloods, not traditional dressers... The style was certainly 'eye catching' as Sirius might say!
'I can't decide which one I fancy the most!' Hannah giggled.
'I'll have both!' Lavender exclaimed. 'What about you Harry? Blond or brunette?' She cackled.
'I'm sure they are both very nice people.' Harry replied curtly, his heart pounding as he looked at Draco... His, beautiful, Draco reclining against this... this... 'person' with the chiselled chin and big muscles.
The girls shrieked with laughter.
'Who ever would have thought that Draco Malfoy would grow up so hot?' Susan joined in. 'I bet he's still the same nasty piece of work he always was though.'
'Probably worse.' Hannah agreed. 'I remember reading about him going out with Fabian Eversole, the Quidditch player. When they broke up he said that Draco was a right spoilt brat.'
'You shouldn't believe everything you read in magazines you know.' Harry said defensively. 'Eversole sounds like a total dick from what I can tell. You don't go around blatantly slagging off your ex in the papers unless you have something wrong with you.'
'I wouldn't care anyway.' Said Susan. 'He can be as bratty as he wants when he looks like that!'
'So, you think he's cute then do you Harry?' Hannah teased.
'He's a model, isn't he?' Harry said coolly. 'He's supposed to be cute. It's his job.'
'You fancy him then?' Lavender asked grinning.
'Not as much as you three do!' Harry replied, finishing his coffee. 'Now if you'll excuse me, some of us have work to do.'
Harry walked away, heart pounding, congratulating himself on his reasonably convincing performance of apathy.
On his lunch break Harry had loitered by the news stand for ten minutes... What magazine was it they had been looking at...? Should he buy it? In the end he thought better of it. Firstly because he feared exactly what would end up happening if he bought it and took it home with him that night. And secondly because he didn't want to have to look at that smug dark haired bastard with his hands all over Draco.
That night when Harry took a shower and when he lay in bed, he tried very, very hard not to think about the pictures of Draco. When they did come into his head, he tried very, very, very hard not to do anything about it!
Draco sincerely hoped that Potter had only seen the one image. And perhaps he could tell Potter about the shoot he had been doing today? Winter wear. And the designer had let him have loads on input about the poses and what worked best to show the garments... So he wasn't just a dumb, vapid clothes hanger! No. He wouldn't talk about that. It made him sound more stupid, not less. Draco almost wished he had a proper job doing something sensible.
He arrived at the building and slipped inside. He took the lift to Potter's floor rather than walking because he didn't want to be out of breath when he knocked on the door.
Harry had prepared the food in advance. He had selected the recipe carefully. He had made the lentil and mango pate the day before and had set it in the fridge. He had made the dressing the day before and all he had to do on Wednesday was to chop the salad. This had been good planning as he was nervous enough without cooking stress too. He had done his best to tidy his apartment. He wanted to give the impression that he lived a bijoux, sophisticated bachelor-like existence in an elegant, well appointed apartment. He did not want to reveal that he lead a scruffy, somewhat disorganised life in a usually messy flat. He hastily removed his drying underpants from the dining room radiator.
The knock came at the door and Harry jumped. He checked the mirror over the mantelpiece. He had trimmed his beard and applied his aftershave. He had combed his hair, for all the good it had done, although as it got longer it became a bit more manageable. It was almost chin length now and sometime actually sat how he wanted it to. Not today however. Not quite.
He opened to door and there stood Draco. 'Don't picture him naked... Don't picture him naked...' Harry chanted to himself.
Draco looked perfect, polished and well put together. And what's more it looked so natural and effortless. Stylish and well dressed, he looked at Harry with a cool collected smile on his face.
'Evening Potter.' He said warmly.
'Hello.' Harry replied.
Draco reached out to him in greeting. Harry was not sure if he was going to shake his hand or hug him. Greetings were almost as difficult as goodbyes... Draco placed his hands on Harrys upper arms and leant towards him. Harry froze for a second. Was Draco going to kiss him?
Draco did that model, aristocrat 'kiss on each cheek' greeting and Harry felt a rush of adrenalin pulse through him. He reminded himself that Draco probably greeted all of his friends like this.
Oh Gods! Potter was wearing that sandalwood aftershave again! Draco had been prepared for it this time, but all that meant was that it didn't make him cry and instead it made him want to snuggle up to him and burry his face against Potters neck all evening. Damn it! Why did Potter have to smell so good?
'Come in.' Harry invited and Draco stepped into the apartment.
Draco glanced around the room, taking in every detail. The apartment consisted primarily of a large open plan space which held the kitchen, dining area and sitting room with a door which Draco assumed led to the bathroom and Potters bedroom... Although he tried his best not to think about that. The apartment was quite modern in decor despite the building being old. The room had a high ceiling and the walls were light in colour making it seem very spacious. Draco was surprised that there was a lack of personal things on display, which made it seem a little like a hotel or a show-home... Had Potter really had to tidy up a great deal for this evening, he wondered?
'Nice apartment.' Draco commented as he took of his coat and Harry took it from him and hung it up, delighted that his frantic house work had paid off.
'Thanks.' Harry replied.
'I didn't know what wine you preferred...' Draco began, handing the bottles to Harry. 'So I got red and white so we can have either, depending on what you've cooked. Or both if you want to have a hangover for work tomorrow.'
Harry laughed.
'I'll try and pace myself.' He said. 'Work is challenging enough without a hangover.'
Draco was still talking in the details of the room when suddenly his eyes fell upon what was undoubtedly the messiest corner of the apartment. The corner where Fawkes sat upon his tall perch, his beady black eyes surveying the room, just as he had done in Dumbledore's house and office.
Draco's heart fluttered and he instantly felt a lump in his throat when he saw the familiar bird on it's familiar perch. He hoped he wasn't flushed and red faced with emotion. Fortunately Potter had gone for ambient 'mood lighting' so Draco hoped he could recover himself quickly and Potter would not notice.
'Fawkes!' Draco exclaimed and he hurried over to the bird. That way he could compose himself and Fawkes would be his distraction.
He extended his arm towards Fawkes who made a pretty cawing sound and seemed to coo as he rubbed his beak on Draco's hand.
'Hello boy.' Draco whispered to the bird. 'How are you getting on? I haven't seen you for a long time, have I?'
He turned to Harry who was watching, captivated as Draco spoke to Fawkes the way people speak to a cat or dog, or even a small child...
'How are you getting on with him, Potter?' Draco asked conversationally, over his initial rush of emotion.
'Oh, we're getting on a bit better.' Harry smiled as he placed the wine down on the kitchen counter and walked over to Draco and Fawkes. 'He sleeps a bit better now, which means I do too.' Harry continued. 'Although I'm not sure you're the biggest fan of my singing, are you Fawkes?' He asked.
Fawkes drew himself up tall and stood on one leg in response.
Draco laughed.
'What are you singing to him?' He asked.
'Celestina Warbeck's new song.' Harry replied. 'It's been stuck in my head for days.'
Draco laughed again. He had a pretty laugh these days, not a cold, cruel one like he had at school.
'He's not going to like that!' Draco exclaimed. 'Not a Celestina fan, are you boy?' He addressed Fawkes.
Fawkes leant forward and looked like he was frowning and let out a low growly squawk.
'OK then.' Harry said, a little put out. 'I'm not exactly in the fan club myself. I just couldn't think what else to sing. What songs does he like?'
Draco thought for a moment.
'He quite likes the Weird Sisters, if I remember correctly.' Draco answered. 'They're more to his taste. Only don't try the 'dance like a hippogriff' one right before bedtime, it gets him too hyped up.'
Harry's eyes were wide with surprise. That had not been the answer he was expecting.
'Albus used to sing 'Magic Works' to him, didn't he, Fawkes?' Draco whispered to the great bird.
Fawkes let out a long, sad cry and hung his head, pushing his beak against Draco's hand, prompting Draco to pet him gently.
'I know.' Draco whispered, his voice trembling. 'I know, Fawkes, I know.'
Harry felt his emotions stir up and he was in danger of tears beginning to form in his eyes. If he felt that bad, then it must be a million times worse for Draco.
Draco turned away and looked out of the window. Was he crying? He didn't seem to want Harry to see.
Harry moved close behind him and whispered.
'It's ok, Draco. I know too.'
With these words he slipped his arms around Draco's waist and hugged him tenderly from behind, not wanting to embarrass him by seeing him cry again. He felt Draco sigh deeply and lean back against him, into his supportive embrace.
But what a very intimate way to hold someone, Harry found himself thinking. Was it a friendly thing to do or did it imply that he wanted more than friendship? Harry wondered 'would I hug Ron or Hermione like this?' He concluded 'No way!' Because it would have felt very inappropriate. He hoped to the Gods that Draco wasn't uncomfortable with this. Partly because he really hadn't meant to come onto him, and partly because it felt so good to hold him that he didn't actually want to let go.
Draco smiled faintly, composing himself and he turned round, still in Harry's arms, and faced him. There was one solitary tear on his cheek. Harry smiled kindly and gently brushed it away, concluding that this was one more thing he probably wouldn't have done with his other friends.
Draco, seeming to sense they were mutually on uncertain ground, gave a nervous little smile and then suddenly laughed as he caught sight of something in the street.
'Oh Gods! Potter, you can actually see that poster from your sitting room! I'm so sorry! That's so embarrassing!' He exclaimed, stepping back from Harry and covering his face with his hands for a second.
Harry almost told him that he could see it even more clearly from his bedroom, but thought better of it.
Harry laughed.
'Those pictures are all around London, Malfoy. Why should that one be embarrassing more than the others?'
As he spoke, he had returned to the kitchen counter and opened the white wine. He poured two glasses.
'It's weird, I know.' Draco replied, thanking Harry for the glass of wine which he handed to him. 'Those pictures are all over the wizarding world, and I'm totally fine about countless strangers seeing them... But somehow it's mortifying to think of people I actually know seeing them... Especially...' Draco stopped suddenly.
'Yes...?' Harry prompted, trying not to sound too desperate to hear what Draco was thinking.
Draco blushed and looked at the floor. He took a long sip of wine.
'Especially people like you.' He replied, looking quite humble.
'Me?' Harry echoed. 'Why would you care what I thought?' He asked with far too much invested interest in Draco's reply.
'Because you're a well respected ministry official and an ex auror whilst I pose for photos with hardly any clothes on.' Draco said frankly. 'You must think I'm... well, a bit of a dumb blond!'
Harry laughed at this. He had never thought of Draco as a 'dumb blond' and it was amusing to hear him describe himself that way.
'Actually I was mostly jealous of how glamorous you are and how great you manage to look in photos.' Harry replied honestly. 'And the things you can get away with wearing! I'd look dreadful in half of this new underwear range!'
Draco laughed, but then realised... This meant Potter had seen more of the photos.
'Oh gods! You've seen the whole collection, haven't you?' Draco cringed.
'I've seen one or two.' Harry replied. 'Some of the girls at work were, shall we say, 'admiring' a photo of you and another guy...' Harry stopped. He was on the verge of asking Draco just who the hell that dark haired guy was anyway, when he realised that not only did he have no right to ask that, but it made him seem very possessive and immature. He really had no right or reason to be possessive in the first place!
'Oh, that one!' Draco smiled, still clearly a little embarrassed. 'That is one of the best ones I suppose. I liked the chain necklace thing they gave me to wear. In fact, the accessories for this campaign have been better than the underwear, if I'm honest.'
'I don't know.' Harry grinned as he dished up the food. 'Those stocking things were quite something.'
Draco laughed and covered his face again for a moment.
'I wasn't keen on the pants though.' Draco confessed, if Potter wasn't embarrassed by this topic then he was determined not to be either! 'The ones they gave to Alejandro were much nicer, but we lowly models don't get too much say in what they give us at the final stages of a collection.'
Alejandro. That must be the chiselled chin man. Harry felt even crosser with him now that he had a name.
'Is that the muscley guy with the black hair?' Harry asked, as casually as possible.
'Yeah.' Draco replied, sauntering over to towards the table. 'I've worked with him before, about 3 years ago on a show in Madrid. I recommended him to Magical Playmates. He's a nice guy.'
Harry hated him more and more.
'I really should get in touch with him actually.' Draco mused.
'Lives locally does he?' Harry asked, through almost gritted teeth.
'He and his wife just moved to London. Their oldest child is 10 this year and they want her to go to school at Hogwarts. They were living in Spain before that, you see.' Draco replied.
Suddenly everything was well in the world again and Harry smiled as he set the plates on the table and invited Draco to sit down.
Harry had been nervous, but it turned out he could cook rather well. He had done a nice job of dishing up the food too. Two slices of pate laid across each other with a green salad to the side and tahini dressing artistically drizzled over the plate. It was practically restaurant standard, he congratulated himself.
Draco complimented him numerous times on the food, cleared his plate and readily accepted a second helping, and more wine. The two of them talked happily and freely throughout the meal, often pushing the boundaries between flirting and teasing as they talked about everything from Harry's work at the ministry to the redecoration of the Leaky Cauldron.
Once they had finished the meal, Harry opened the red wine, deciding he could cope with a little hangover the following day, and poured them both a glass. They adjourned to the sofa.
'So, have you got an exciting day of disaggregating divisional data statistics tomorrow, Potter?' Draco asked him with a grin.
'Probably.' Harry groaned. 'It's not all that boring, but it does have its moments. I sometimes wish I'd stayed with the Aurors.'
'Why didn't you?' Draco asked candidly.
Harry sighed. He didn't usually talk about it, not to anyone. Sirius was the only person he had told about his true reasons for leaving. He looked pensive.
'You don't have to tell me!' Draco exclaimed at once.
But Harry wanted to. It would redress the balance. Over the time they had spent together, poor Draco had been so hurt and vulnerable, it would level the ground a little if Harry was prepared to bare his soul a little.
'I found it really hard to be around dark magic all the time.' Harry confessed, avoiding eye contact and gripping his glass tightly. 'I mean, it was ok most of the time, when we were tracking down prohibited potion smugglers or illegal creature traders things like that...' He paused.
Draco said nothing and simply listened, waiting for Harry to continue in his own time.
'But every now and then we'd come up against something really dark, real horrific stuff and... I'm ashamed of myself now, telling you this, but I just couldn't cope with it on a regular basis.'
Harry paused and waited for a response. Was Draco going to think he was a complete coward?
Draco looked at Harry with a kind expression on his face and he did something Harry had done many times for him. He reached out and took hold of his hand supportively and smiled at him.
'I know everyone was shocked when I left.' Harry continued. 'They all thought I had such a bright career in front of me! I let them all down, really. But they didn't know about the effect it was having on me...'
He paused and again Draco didn't speak, allowing him space to continue.
'I started having, well, I guess they were flash backs. But to something I don't quite remember. To the night my parents were murdered. When I had to deal with really dark magic it was like it somehow awakened memories I didn't know I had, a little bit at a time. I don't want to remember it, Draco. I really don't want to ever remember it. I had to stop working as an auror because I was scared that if I didn't I'd spend the rest of my life reliving that night.'
Harry's eyes were blurry with the beginnings of tears. Draco put down his wine glass and gently put his arms around Harry, feeling compassion for him, but also some gratitude to be able to comfort him for a change.
'Pretty pathetic, huh?' Harry managed.
'No.' Said Draco flatly. 'I understand you know.'
He paused and Harry looked at him quizzically.
'My father practiced the dark arts.' Draco confessed. 'Particularly when I was very young, a baby in fact. I saw things, I remembered tiny bits of things I had seen before my first birthday... They haunted my nightmares for years.'
Draco paused. Harry had turned to look at him now, fascinated at Draco's confession.
'My mother's sister... she was a supporter of the one who killed your parents. Groups of them used to come to my house. My father allowed it. I never knew if he genuinely supported it or if he was just too scared to protest. I saw them... I saw them kill people... more than once.' Draco said, fear in his voice.
'I didn't remember it fully until I was about 20. I went to see a healer who helps with things like that. It was horrible because all the memories did come back, even though I was only one year old when it happened... But eventually I came to terms with it and started to feel better. And the nightmares stopped.' He paused. 'It was nowhere near as bad as what you saw, of course Harry. But I understand what you mean about the feelings coming back when you are near dark magic. It's one of many reasons I don't like to go home. My father is pretty harmless these days but I know he still dabbles from time to time. I don't like to be around it.'
Harry thought about it. It made sense. It fitted in with all of the records from the great wizarding war. The Malfoy family involvement, the Lestrange family... Of course Draco would have been exposed to this sort of thing. Harry slipped his arms around Draco and hugged him back.
'It's nice to tell someone who understands.' Harry smiled. 'Thank you.'
'Likewise.' Draco smiled back at him. 'I still remember my first carriage journey to Hogwarts, you know. I could see the Thestrals and I had no idea why I could. I pretended I couldn't and never mentioned it to anyone until years later. I didn't want anyone to know I could see them.'
'I couldn't see them.' Harry confessed. 'I can see them now, because I have seen a colleague killed in action when I was a auror. I suppose I may not have directly seen what happened to my parents... It was always sounds that came back to me the most.'
Draco hugged him more tightly.
'Sounds like quitting the aurors was the right thing to do.' Draco comforted. 'And I don't think you let anyone down. You have to look after yourself, and you actually deserve to be happy, you know.'
Harry certainly felt happy as he listened to that.
'Thank you.' He replied. 'I am pretty happy these days.' He assured Draco. 'I have good friends, I am getting to grips with work now. Life is pretty good, generally.'
Draco smiled and nodded.
'I suppose it is, although I haven't really felt like it is just lately.' Draco admitted.
Harry nodded sympathetically.
'But I do enjoy my work.' Draco continued. 'Even when it's a bit embarrassing.' He added with a grin. 'I have some good friends too and I'm really happy in my house.'
'Yeah, your house is amazing.' Harry agreed.
'Thanks.' Draco smiled, sitting back from Harry a little although not entirely ceasing contact between them.
'So tell me Potter...' Draco grinned. 'You have a good job, you have a nice apartment, you can cook and you've actually turned out to be reasonably good looking... How come you aren't dating anyone?' He paused and then added quickly. 'You aren't dating anyone, are you?'
Harry laughed.
'No. No I'm not. And I don't know why, other than relationships are the one area where I'm still just as hopeless and ridiculous as I was at school.'
Draco laughed.
'What about you?' Harry asked without thinking. 'Why aren't you with anyone?' He realised as he was speaking just what he was saying and instantly wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He tried to salvage it. 'I mean, apart from the obvious reason of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a dick.' He looked mortified.
But Draco smiled a kind and forgiving smile.
'Albus and I hadn't seen each other for six months when he was taken ill.' Draco clarified. 'We weren't 'together' as a couple. He always told me to date people but somehow we were each others addiction, the habit we just couldn't break...'
He paused, determined not to get upset again.
'So I guess I'm still single because you cease to be such a catch when you are in love with someone 101 years older than you and completely hung up on a relationship which can never really happen.' He said flatly.
Harry took his hand.
'And even now he's gone and I've finally let it go...' Draco continued. 'I'm still not really a catch because although people like the look of me they don't seem to want to date me.'
'I find that hard to believe.' Harry grinned. 'I would have thought those pictures would have people queuing up to take you out.'
Draco laughed.
'Oh, they have people queuing up alright, but not usually wanting to take me out!'
'OK, I can imagine!' Harry laughed.
'In fact, I had a letter from Fabian this morning.' Draco told him, rolling his eyes.
'Oh. Did you?' Harry said uncomfortably. 'What did he have to say?'
'He said he misses me and he realised now that he may have been unfair by talking bad about me to the papers, but he was just really hurting. He told me it was just the only way he knew how to cope with the emotions. He said he has realised how much I mean to him and he would love to see me again and try and put things right.' Draco almost recited numbly.
'Oh.' Said Harry again. 'So are you going to see him?'
Draco feigned a thoughtful expression for a moment.
'Oh yes!' He replied sarcastically. 'Honestly Harry, I'd rather have a date with a dementor!'
Harry couldn't help but laugh at this. He was happy with that answer.
'Don't you think he meant what he said?' He asked.
'No.' Replied Draco flatly.
'What did he mean then?'
'Well, either he took a bludger to the head in his latest game of Quidditch or what he was trying to say was: I've seen some hot pictures of you and I'd kind of like to sleep with you again. But given that I was a total prick when we broke up I'd better spin you a line about being sorry. You're a model, so you are stupid enough to fall for it.' Draco answered with very little emotion in his voice.
'Ah.' Harry replied. 'That's the price you pay for looking so hot in your underwear I suppose. A creep like him will want to hook up with you.'
Draco blushed and his eyes twinkled for a moment.
'It's not the first time those type of photos have inspired people to get back in contact with me.' He said wistfully. 'Not always creeps, either...' He smiled and looked far away for a second. 'But, no. Fabian certainly won't be getting a reply. Well, he will... But not the one he wants. I forwarded his letter to the agency for them to answer with all the other nuisance letters they deal with on behalf of their models.' Draco gave a devious grin.
'Good call!' Harry smiled and nodded, pleased that Draco had no intention of meeting up with his ex.
They continued to talk light heartedly, keen to avoid any heavy subjects as the wine began to soften the edges of life and they descended into a warm, fuzzy place. Not quite drunk, probably not even quite tipsy, just comfortable and relaxed. It was gone half 11 when Draco noticed the clock and apologised to Harry for staying so long and keeping him up when he had work the next day.
'Don't worry about it.' Harry assured him. 'It's been great. We should do this again.'
'You are welcome to cook for me any time you like, Potter.' Draco teased with a playful smile. 'But I guess after tonight I probably owe you dinner.'
'I wouldn't say no.' Harry smiled. 'Are you free at the weekend?'
'I'm going to Italy tomorrow.' Draco said a little sadly. 'But I'm coming back on Saturday morning. Even with crap port-key connections I should be back by early afternoon, so we could do something in the evening if you like?'
'What about Sunday?' Harry offered. 'Give you a night at home to relax first?'
'Sunday lunch?' Draco offered.
'Sounds perfect.' Harry replied. 'Although what you're going to cook if you don't eat meat or dairy products I don't know!' He grinned.
'Don't underestimate me Potter.' Draco said with a sly smile. 'I'm more skilled in the kitchen than you might imagine.' Draco secretly hoped he could live up to his claim!
'I believe you, especially after those cookies you made.' Harry told him. 'I look forward to seeing what you can do!'
Draco laughed.
'No pressure on me then!' He joked.
'I don't want to sound like I've had too much wine...' Harry began. 'But you could wear those stockings and serve me bread and water and I'd be impressed.'
'You've had too much wine.' Draco said flatly.
For a moment Harry worried that he had sounded like a jerk, like Draco's ex. But Draco's face broke into a smile and then a playful grin and he shook his head and laughed.
'Thanks for a great evening.' Draco said sincerely as he stood in the doorway ready to leave.
They had arrived at the awkward goodbye moment again, although awkward moments are often made easier after 2 bottles of wine.
'Thank you for coming round.' Harry replied.
There was a silence and they both looked at each other. Someone was going to have to say or do something!
Draco plucked up his courage, after all, Potter wouldn't have made that comment about the stockings if he wasn't just a tiny bit interested, or at least not repulsed by the idea...
Draco lent in towards Harry. He locked his eyes with him for a second before his fluttered shut and he closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together.
Draco's kiss was chaste. As chaste as a kiss on the lips can be. It lasted no more than three seconds. Draco did not open his mouth, he did not use his tongue. He simply pressed their lips together affectionately and then pulled away.
'Good night Potter.' He said softly.
With that, he turned and walked away quickly, just in case he had made a mistake. He didn't want the evening to be ruined. If Potter was angry or upset perhaps he would tell him on Sunday? But just for this evening, it had all felt alright.
'Good night Draco...' Harry uttered, almost silently as Draco walked away.
Harry shut the door of his apartment and leant against it. He traced his fingers lightly across his lips which were still tingling from the touch of Draco's. His heart was pounding.
Draco had kissed him good night.
A three second kiss. Three seconds, it was just so ambiguous. A kiss like that could mean anything.
It was short enough that it could simply have been a display of friendly affection, a 'peck on the cheek' which had missed its target. On the other hand, three seconds was just long enough to potentially mean something else entirely. Three seconds was enough time for Draco to purposely hold the kiss, and be fully aware of what he was doing.
Had Draco done that on purpose, to leave Harry unsure? Had he done it because he too had had too much wine? Would he regret it the next day? Harry didn't know, but in his happy, wine numbed state, he didn't want to think too much about it. The evening had been perfect and he didn't want to spoil it with angst. He was fairly sure he would do a thorough job of that tomorrow.
Harry looked around his flat. It felt so different. Not just because it was tidy and dinner had been eaten at the table rather than on the sofa, but because someone else had been there. Draco had been there and it seemed to change the dynamic of the place. It seemed brighter, cheerier, warmer... Harry told himself he was starting to be silly.
He slowly headed towards his bedroom when suddenly he stopped and turned back to face the room. Something else was different.
A very quiet, very faint, very beautiful music could be heard, a lovely gentle melody filling the apartment. It took Harry a moment to realise where it was coming from and what it was. His eyes widened and he gasped in surprise and delight.
Fawkes was singing.