Disclaimer: Yep. I'm totally J.K, masquerading as a 25 y/o man on a fanfic website…

Warnings: Slash (if that needs to be stated…), 8th-year fic (aka EWE), uncontrollable erections.

Summary: It's 8th Year and Harry's discovered his libido for the first time. Draco Malfoy wants to get to know Harry, but he gets more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, there are people in the world who were not happy with the way the war ended.

A/N: … I have absolutely no excuse for leaving you hanging like this between chapters. I promise you, I have no intention of abandoning this story. Though I say I have no excuse, the last 4 months have been incredibly busy, what with me trying to meet a deadline for writing a huge amount of music and then teaching said music to my choirs. The whole experience drained me of every ounce of creativity I possess, and it's taken some time for me to feel up to returning to this project. However, I don't foresee anything nearly as time-consuming in my near future, so hopefully things will be back to normal with weekly updates! For those of you who have stuck with me through this long delay, I thank you. And for those of you who are just joining the ride, welcome! I apologize for the lengthy Author's Notes.

Chapter 10: Dinner With Narcissa

Harry found his way back to Draco's rooms fairly easily, considering his unfamiliarity with Malfoy Manor. The outer door had been left open, though it was still warded to allow entry only to the two boys. He decided that a shower would be a good choice for passing the time while Draco spoke with his father. Lucius' presence had not been foisted upon Harry, which was exactly how he wanted it. He didn't care to deal with the man until he absolutely had to, and that was definitely not this weekend.

He stripped out of his robes, hanging them on a vacant hanger in the large walk-in closet. Draco had a thing about leaving fine clothing strewn about 'with no care whatsoever' and Harry had no wish to be subjected to another lecture on the proper care for silk, cotton, dragonhide, and the countless other materials that Wizarding clothing could be made from. The last lecture had lasted nearly an hour and included 'practice' folding clothing with the proper spells to decrease the chance of wrinkling (after all, de-wrinkling spells were terribly difficult to cast properly).

As he toed off his shoes and socks, Harry looked around for a hamper but was unable to locate one. He decided he would just fold his trousers and shirt and leave them in a neat stack with his pants and undershirt. Having finally divested himself of all clothing, Harry walked to the other side of the closet (it took 45 steps!) and opened the door to the bathroom.

The marble and white gold that dominated the bathroom suite practically screamed wealth. It was not overdone and showy, but the subtle elegance that spoke of impeccable taste learned from a lifetime of luxury was quite imposing. The Malfoys clearly knew the full extent of their wealth and had no qualms about showing it off. But they knew how to broadcast it without ever coming across as garish, a task at which most 5-star hotels in the world failed miserably. Harry finally decided to ignore the lavish beauty surrounding him, focusing his attention on the large shower room that stood opposite the Olympic-sized tub.

He experimentally turned a few of the knobs in the shower, quickly growing frustrated when nothing came out of the tap. Just when he was about to give up after trying over twenty knobs, Harry noticed a small button located near the showerhead labeled 'Water'. Feeling silly, the naked Hero who was able to defeat the greatest evil of the century finally learned how to start his shower.

After forty minutes in the bathroom (fifteen of which were spent just figuring out that blasted shower) and a drying spell, Harry was clean and feeling refreshed. He stood there in the closet clad in only his undergarments, rifling through his clothing for a nice outfit. He put on a clean pair of grey trousers and a navy blue oxford shirt but decided to forego a robe for now.

Harry was surprised that Draco wasn't back from talking to his father; according to the blond, Lucius wasn't one for longwinded chats with his son. The aristocrat had never been a believer in waffling on about emotions and other such nonsense. As it was, Harry had expected the visit to be a short one, merely saying hello and updating one another on their recent activities as well as business and financial situations. The brunet decided to do a little reading to pass the time. There were enough books stacked on the shelves that took up one entire wall of Draco's room that Harry could surely find something to interest him.

As he skimmed through the titles, he noticed an inconsistency on one of the shelves. The books here looked flat and rather two-dimensional, a clear sign that a hasty glamour was in effect. Harry felt out with his magic to discover if there were any wards protecting this space and was pleased to find none. He guessed that this was where Draco had hidden his collection of smut-filled magazines or whatever horny teenaged wizards used for their entertainment.

What Harry was not expecting was for the glamour to fail the minute he touched it and reveal at least forty identical books. They were thin and white with colorful red and gold writing on the spines. Upon closer inspection, Harry noticed that these books weren't identical as he had initially thought, but all part of the same series. He had to squint to read one of the titles, but once he'd managed to read it, he wished he hadn't.

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED GOES TO GRINGOTT'S!

Harry blinked and read the title again. Unfortunately, his blinking did nothing to change what he read. He pulled a handful of books off of the shelf and looked at some of the other titles…

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED GOES TO THE MOON!

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED GOES TO HONEYDUKES!

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED GOES TO THE HEALER!

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED GOES TO YOUR HOUSE!

The last title made him stop. Intrigued, Harry looked at the cover again and saw Malfoy Manor clearly pictured there complete with Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco. He opened to the title page and noted the author, Deena Skeeter. Chuckling and wondering whether this woman was related to Rita or merely a penname, Harry turned the page and began to read.

Little Draco Malfoy sat by his window, looking out at the sky and wondering where his hero was. He was tired of being scared of the monsters under his bed and hoped the Boy-Who-Lived would help him vanquish them the same way he vanquished He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You see, Harry Potter was a hero who liked to help everybody he could, even little boys like Draco.

Suddenly, in the sky there was a flash of light and Draco followed the fast movement with his eyes, watching the figure approach. When it was finally close enough to see clearly, Draco jumped up in excitement. It was the Boy-Who-Lived! He had answered Draco's wishes and come to help him. He opened the window and—

Harry heard a noise and looked up to see a very frozen and pale blond standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He jumped up and attempted to hide what he was reading behind his back, a futile effort he knew.

"You weren't supposed to find those," Draco said softly, almost a whisper.

Harry walked up to the blond, lifted his chin, and placed a short, sweet kiss upon those lush pink lips which were currently formed into a nervous frown. "You don't need to be embarrassed," he said gently, reaching down and taking hold of both of Draco's hands.

"Yeah, well… I still am," he said in response. "I haven't read those books in years. It's no surprise you found them, as old as the glamour I had hiding them was."

Harry chuckled to himself, hopefully expressing his amusement without seeming to mock the blond. He led them both back to the bookshelf where he returned the books to their rightful places.

"I'm almost afraid to ask this," the brunet said, "But does every wizarding child in Great Britain have this set of books?"

Finally, Draco smiled and Harry couldn't help himself, he kissed him again. "Pretty much," he answered once his lips had been freed. "I would bet that every student at Hogwarts has read at least a few of them."

"Then how did I never know they existed?" Harry asked, shocked that something like this had never come to his attention. He was the subject of an entire children's book series and he didn't even know about it, for Merlin's sake!

"Well, everyone who actually knows you knows how much you hate your publicity, and none of them wanted to have to withstand your wrath when you found out," Draco said rather quickly, fighting the urge to cringe at Harry's many possible reactions.

Harry, instead of getting upset, chortled and pulled Draco over to the bed. "Oh well, guess I'll have to read them all later," he said, surprising Draco. "But do tell me, how did you happen to be in one of the books?"

"Oh, that one? That's my favorite!" Draco said. He blushed after he said this, embarrassed again at showing how much he loved the childish book series, or maybe how obsessed he really had been. "There's some bit of magic in them that, when a boy or girl writes their name in the book, recognizes their magical signature and makes them the co-star of the book."

"That's quite brilliant, actually," Harry responded, removing his shirt, laying down and patting the spot on the bed next to him. "Now, come take a nap with me. We were up way too early today and I'm tired."

Draco said nothing, but curled up into Harry and promptly fell into a wonderful dream of Harry Potter flying into his open bedroom window and fighting a huge under-the-bed monster.

-0-

Dinner was fast approaching and Draco was a nervous wreck. Sure, things had gone well during the earlier conversations over tea in the garden, but that was then, and this was now. Tea was a casual affair, and Harry had done well in the setting. But Draco had no idea how the boy-wonder would do in a formal setting, and there were very few settings more formal than a Malfoy dinner.

Harry was currently working on removing the wrinkles in his slacks, having forgotten to remove them before taking a nap. "Ruga lavifico!" he heard Harry practically shout at his trousers. It helped to snap Draco out of his worries as he decided to have mercy on the helpless brunet.

"Just stop, before you blast a hole in them," he said, staying Harry's wand before another haphazard and overly powerful spell could weaken the fabric. "You're being far too heavy-handed with that. Like I always say, no subtlety whatsoever."

Harry scoffed at his declaration but moved aside nonetheless. Draco walked up to the trousers and easily removed the wrinkles with a single wave of his wand and one silently incanted spell. With a smirk at the scowling brunet, he presented the slacks and walked into the closet to choose robes for both of them. When he returned wearing a simple slate gray robe with black edging and carrying a royal blue robe with silver embroidery, Harry was fully dressed and doing up a silver tie over his navy blue shirt. Draco helped him into the stylish robe, closing the silver clasps at the navel. The style of this robe was very modern, leaving Harry's trousers and shirt combo exposed. It was quite a handsome look on him.

"You certainly clean up well," he drawled, earning a grin from his boyfriend.

"How could I not, when I have you dressing me?" Harry quipped back, looking in the mirror at his reflection. When he looked back, he frowned at the nervous expression on Draco's face. "What's the matter?"

"It's not every day that one tells his mother that he plans to spend the rest his life with another wizard," Draco said stiffly. "I know she seemed besotted with you during tea this afternoon, but introducing you as a boyfriend and declaring our real intentions are completely different matters. She can't dismiss this as a momentary phase that might pass, as she might have when she thought you were merely my boyfriend."

"Don't work yourself into a state, Draco," Harry said, pulling the blond into a hug. "I've studied the etiquette books you gave me, and I'm sure I'll be perfectly charming tonight with you in the lead. And if nothing else, I'm sure your mother will be able to see just how smitten I am with you and that can only have a positive influence."

Draco couldn't help but smile at the roguish grin Harry gave him. He was right; Draco was being a drama queen. His mother could certainly not find fault with him spending his life with the bloody Saviour of the Wizarding World. Pulling away from the embrace, Draco laced their fingers together and led the way to the Formal Dining Room.

-0-

Despite his assurances to Draco, Harry was a nervous wreck inside. But he was channeling his inner-Slytherin and presenting a calm and confident front. They were both standing behind the chairs that would be theirs once dinner began, waiting for Narcissa to arrive. It was improper to sit before the Lady of the House.

He felt Draco squeeze his hand almost painfully and a second later, a door opened to reveal Narcissa in all her splendor. She was dressed in a beautiful flowing gown of golden silk. It made her pale skin seem to glow and Harry finally saw where Draco had gotten his beauty. Oh yes, he looked a great deal like his father, but his pale complexion and grace came from his mother, as did the silkiness of his platinum hair.

"Good evening, Harry, Dragon," she said before sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the table from the two of them.

"Good evening Narcissa," Harry said at the same time as Draco mumbled "Good evening, mother", face turning red. Clearly, he didn't appreciate being called by his nickname in front of anyone else. Harry thought it was rather adorable, to be honest, and smiled at the exchange, hiding his glee at Narcissa's smirk.

As soon as the he and Draco had sat, three House-elves appeared with the first course and set the bowls of cold celery root soup in front of each of them. Harry carefully selected his soup spoon and ate, remembering to scoop his spoon away from him so as not to slosh on himself if he were too forceful. It had seemed a strange rule at first, but Harry could see the sensibility in it now.

The three of them ate their soup in silence, Harry taking his cues from the two blonds and waiting to speak until someone else struck up a conversation. Another three elves appeared to take away the empty bowls and were followed immediately by three more elves bearing small plates of bacon-wrapped figs served with a pungent blue cheese sauce. Harry watched Narcissa use her smallest fork and knife to cut a fig in half, and then dip the half into the sauce. He followed suit and couldn't stop the small sound of pleasure from escaping as he tasted the Hors d'oeuvre. He'd never tasted a fig before. It was quite delicious.

Narcissa let a small smile grace her face at Harry's utterance, and that seemed to break the ice in her opinion, for she began making small talk. As the courses progressed, they conversed quite easily about their school studies and the rebuilding of the Ministry. It was while they were nearing the end of the entrée course—roast squab served over a bed of creamy polenta with prosciutto—that Harry noticed Draco's increasing stiffness.

"Dragon," Narcissa began as the plates were taken away and replaced by small bowls of chocolate gelato. "Do tell me what it is that has you so wound up. You're practically twitching in anticipation."

Draco swallowed audibly before speaking. "Mother, as you know, Harry and I have been together a few months now."

Narcissa smiled and nodded at this. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that she already knew what Draco was going to say. He kept his smirk hidden behind his spoon.

"Yes, well it may seem a bit fast," the blond continued. "But if you consider our history I'm sure you'll agree that it's hardly surprising. I mean, yes we've fought like mad and even declared each other our arch-rival at the school, but really we've been chasing after and dancing around each other for over seven years now, and it turns out it was all—"

"Draco," Narcissa said, cutting him off mid babble. "You're rambling, which is so unlike you. Take a breath and tell me what you're trying to say."

Draco took a deep breath and then started again. "What I'm trying to say, mother, is that we're quite in love and we both agree that what we have is far more than a silly schoolboy romance."

At this, Draco reached down and grasped Harry's hand, placing them together on the table between their plates. Harry was quite surprised at the outward show of affection in front of his mother, but smiled brightly and squeezed their joined hands.

"Anyway," he continued even as a blush spread over his features. "We're quite set on this lasting far beyond this year at Hogwarts. I know I just introduced Harry to you as my boyfriend earlier today, but that was because it would have been improper for a pureblood son to introduce his intended to his mother without first assessing her opinion of him."

"Draco, are you certain in your decision?" Narcissa asked, hiding her smile behind her proper mask of indifference. Harry noticed it though, even if Draco missed it.

"What he's saying," Harry said, "is that we intend to marry at some point after our graduation."

At this, Narcissa's face beamed with the size of her smile. Draco looked horrified at Harry for a quick moment, but upon seeing his mother's smile, his's expression changed to surprise. He'd clearly expected it to be harder. Thought there would be some form of explanation or convincing needed. Hell, he'd been ready to grovel.

Harry thought Draco looked so damn cute that, yet again, he couldn't help himself and pulled Draco to him, taking advantage of his gaping expression, and snogged him quite thoroughly. It barely lasted five seconds, but it left Draco out of breath and with a goofy smile adorning his face. Harry turned back to Narcissa with a smirk.

"Oh yes," she said delightedly, "I definitely approve."

-0-

End Chapter 10

-0-

ruga = wrinkle, crease; levifico = to smooth down (Remember, I use google translate so if my spells suck, sorry.)

A/N: Okay, so not a lot happened, but at least I'm back, right? Right. Anyway, I needed to get the introductions between Harry and Narcissa finished and a babbling, slightly OOC Draco amused me. Hopefully you found it kinda funny and not terribly off-base. Either way, the plot picks back up in the next chapter which I am already working on. No 4 month wait this time, I promise. Please review!

A/N #2: The idea for "The-Boy-Who Lived Goes To Your House" is from SilverViolet96. I liked the idea of a magical children's book that would tailor itself to include the reader in the story.