*I was actually pleasantly surprised by most reactions to last chapter. Maybe there was a little frustration, but most of you didn't mind that Draco needed some time to think. You know what they say-absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or is that forgetful? You'll find out soon enough :)
LalalaSpacingInPandaLand- I'm assuming you meant the part where Draco didn't go running into Harry's arms. I think I would have been a little wary too.
rileygar25- I didn't want to rush it. The story is almost over as it is :(
luvsallthingsslash- you're welcome. Thank you!
ClaireBouldwin- thank you for your kind words!
The Angel Redemption- step away from the video games . . . lol. Try to stay focused on this chapter-it's a good one :)
cassy1994- yes, it takes time . . . that's the patience part, ha ha
jememj- we all wanna hug Draco! :)
WitchRavenFox- can't you just see Harry making Draco run all over the shop just so he can watch him ;) good thing Mirabelle is so observant or Draco may not have fully believed Harry's story
Kisa167- I really debated having Hermione and Mirabelle cook up a scheme to get the boys back together, but I decided in the end that whatever happens should be their own motives
Thanks also to FantasyFiend09, BloodyRose90, Evi15, Antybioda, ThexHallowsxGirl, beautiesrosemightneverdie, eisforerica, Princessmelodina, YaDiz96, Clary girl two, and earthstar for reading and reviewing. And thanks to everyone who has put this on alert or added to favorites!
Thanks, Jo Rowling for creating these ambiguously gay characters that I love to exploit!
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Day one hundred four, Friday
With the help of Aurors in New Zealand, Nazar Duncan was brought to the London Ministry of Magic to answer for his crimes.
As Ron had suspected, Harry had gone to the reported hiding place of the criminal. Thinking it would be a simple matter of capturing Duncan and sending him off to the Ministry, Harry was caught off guard when he found not only Nazar, but two other Death Eaters as well.
In a panic, Duncan tried to erase Harry's recollection of finding him. But being inexperienced with Neustadt's methods, he couldn't control the flow of magic and it had grown out of his command. His companions urged him to take more of the Auror's memories, and were impressed by the great bollocks Duncan showed in the way he dared to fuck with Potter's mind. In reality, Nazar Duncan was a mediocre wizard and simply couldn't stop what he inadvertently started until Harry was left without any recollection of the wizarding world.
The three Death Eaters dumped an unconscious Harry behind the shop in which they were hiding, and fled. When Harry came to, he was groggy and disoriented, but unharmed physically.
Nazar Duncan was quickly tried for crimes unrelated to his assault on Harry and sent to Azkaban.
"I must say, Harry, I don't understand why you're not pressing charges," Minister Shacklebolt said. "Though we really don't need you to make the misuse of magic and assault of an Auror charges stick."
"They're misdemeanors," Harry said. "He'll be in prison long enough with all the other charges against him."
"Still," Shacklebolt sighed. "I don't know how you can refrain from getting at least a little revenge."
"I'm not up to the rigors of a trial. I'd like to put it behind me."
What Harry wasn't telling the Minister was that he'd feel like a hypocrite pressing charges against the man who, ultimately, led him to the love of his life. If Harry hadn't lost his memory, he would never have gotten to know Draco the way he had. He wouldn't have re-examined his life and actions so closely. It may have taken Harry years to figure out just how unhappy and unfulfilling his life was. It probably would have taken him even longer to figure out why he visited Draco's shop so frequently. And by then, it most likely would have been too late to do anything about it.
What weighed on Harry's mind most these days, was that it was too late already. He hadn't heard from Draco in a couple of weeks. The longer it took for him to decide if he was willing to take another chance with Harry, the more likely the answer would be 'no'.
Harry chuckled to himself as he thought he should be thanking Nazar Duncan for his actions. At least he had two wonderful months with Draco because of him. Of course, he wasn't about to explain all that to Shacklebolt.
"I understand, Harry," The Minister disrupted Harry's musings. "It's good to have you back in full force." Shacklebolt clapped him on the back.
"Yes, sir."
"See you Monday, Harry." Shacklebolt stepped into the fireplace and disappeared into a cloud of green.
Harry stood for a moment as others walked around him to get into fireplaces to be on their ways. He didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to go out either. As he stood, other wizards would occasionally look at him as if they were trying to figure something out. Since the scene at the Leaky Cauldron, rumors were rampant, and he could feel the stares of curiosity. Neither man addressed the rumors publicly. Only Ron, Hermione and Mirabelle knew the true story.
He sighed, stepped into the fireplace and soon found himself in the Black family home. Wearily, he walked down to the kitchen and began making himself supper. He never did purchase a new cookbook, so his meal consisted of porridge and rashers.
Sitting down at the kitchen table, Harry pushed food around his plate, taking a few small bites now and then. He wasn't really hungry. But he could practically hear Hermione and Molly in his head telling him he need to keep his strength up.
His mind began to wander. He remembered snippets of his time in Draco's flat. Reading by the window, sharing a quiet meal, snuggling close in bed. His own house was so empty and lonely. His chest literally ached because of it. A bottle of firewhiskey on the counter caught his eye. He decided that he liked it better when he couldn't remember and grabbed the bottle, leaving his mostly uneaten supper.
Harry took a swig and walked into the drawing room, plopping himself on the sofa. He tipped the bottle into his mouth once more and downed as much as he could in a single gulp.
He flipped on the Wizard Wireless Network and lay on the couch listening to music while continuing to down the practically new bottle of firewhiskey. Before long, the bottle was almost half gone and Harry could hardly see straight. But at least he wasn't pining away for Draco.
His eyelids grew heavy. He was nearly unconscious when the doorbell rang.
"Bollocks," Harry muttered. The last thing he wanted was company, even though he knew it was most likely Ron and Hermione coming to cheer him up. He opened the door ready to give the 'I'm fine' speech.
"You look like shit," Draco said as he stood there smirking.
All Harry was capable of doing was stare with his mouth open. And hiccup.
"Lovely," Draco said dryly. "May I come in?'
Harry stood back, allowing him to enter the house. He led him to the drawing room and sat on the couch. The room had begun spinning and Harry wasn't sure how long he could stand. Draco took a seat at the other end.
"How did you find me?" Harry asked, frowning.
"You brought me here. Don't you remember?"
"Oh yeah." Harry tried to focus, but the effects of the alcohol made it difficult.
"Have I come at a bad time?" Draco noted Harry's state and the half-downed bottle of firewhiskey on the floor.
"That depends on why you came," Harry answered.
"Do you have coffee?"
"You came for coffee?" Harry slurred his words. "Why didn't you just go to one of your muggle places? Buckaroos or whatever."
Draco chuckled. "Starbucks? I don't want coffee, I want to make some for you. You're pissed out of your mind and I can't talk to you like this. Do you have coffee?" he asked again.
"Think so," Harry answered wearily.
Draco got up and walked down to the kitchen in search of the caffeinated beverage. He noticed the partially eaten meal on the table.
"No wonder you're plastered- drinking on an empty stomach," he said to himself out loud.
Rifling through the cabinets, he saw little in the way of food items. Finally, he found what he was looking for and set a pot to brew. While he was at it, he also set the few dirty dishes to clean themselves and walked back up to the drawing room.
"Potter, when was the last time you had a decent-" His shoulders slumped when he saw Harry passed out against the corner of the sofa. "meal," he finished.
He sighed and carefully scooted Harry down into a prone position and placed a cushion under his head. Spotting a small blanket on the back of the chair, Draco covered Harry and began stroking his unruly hair.
"How could I possibly have missed this mop?" He asked himself.
But he did. He missed everything about Harry.
The smell of coffee began to fill the air. Draco got up and went back into the kitchen to tend to the now unnecessary brew.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Day One hundred five, very early morning Saturday
Some time later, Harry slowly opened his eyes. The house was quiet, as usual. For a moment, he remembered Draco coming to visit, but shook it off thinking it must have been a dream. He closed his eyes again and started to sink back into the couch.
"Shit," someone said from the kitchen.
Harry's eyes sprung open and he sat up quickly, causing his stomach to lurch. He managed to keep from vomiting somehow and gingerly made his way to the kitchen.
What he saw was about the last thing he expected. Draco was busy at Harry's stove, making bangers and mash. Currently, he was running his hand under the cold faucet.
"When did you learn how to cook?" Harry asked, startling the blond.
"Oh," Draco turned around. "Well, I'm still learning." He held up his hand. "Burned it."
Harry took out his wand and waved it over the burn, healing it.
"Thanks," Draco said sheepishly.
"You could have done that yourself," Harry smirked.
"I didn't want to stop turning the sausages. I was afraid they'd burn. I'm still not very good at this."
Harry glanced around. Except for the stove, his kitchen had been cleaned and he noticed the pot of coffee on the counter.
"Were you here last night? Did you stay here?"
"No, I got you some much needed groceries. And an even more necessary hangover potion." Draco retrieved a small vial from his pocket and handed it to Harry.
"Thank you." Harry gratefully accepted it and drank it down. His stomach had been doing flips since he first entered the kitchen. Almost immediately, his headache disappeared and his stomach settled. Draco truly was the best Potions Master around.
"You reek of firewhiskey. And your hair . . ." Draco rolled his eyes playfully. "Why don't you go clean yourself up while I finish this?"
Feeling hopeful, Harry nodded. At that point he would have done anything Draco asked of him. He still wasn't sure if Draco was there to reconcile with him or let him down easy.
Moving as quickly as he could, Harry went up to the bath, brushed his teeth and stepped into the shower. He shampooed his hair twice to be certain it was clean. It had been months since his last hair cut and was getting out of control. He even put conditioner in it, hoping he could tame it somewhat. He had been neglecting his looks lately, but he wanted to look his best for Draco.
By the time Harry turned off the water, he was probably the most thoroughly clean he had ever been in his life. He wrapped a fluffy yellow towel around his waist and took a smaller one to his hair.
When he walked into his bedroom, Draco was standing by his dresser looking at a photograph of Harry with Ron and Hermione.
"Oh," Harry started. He dropped his hair towel and tried to smooth out his damp locks.
Turning quickly, Draco knocked over the photo and clumsily righted it. "Sorry. I was just, um . . . you were taking so long, I wanted to see if you were all right. A horrid little elf showed me the way here. I brought your food," he said awkwardly and gestured toward the small bedside table.
"Kreacher," Harry said. "He thinks nothing of privacy."
"He seemed eager to serve me," Draco said. "In fact, he insisted."
"Yes, well, you are a Black. He serves the House of Black. Always has."
"Right," Draco nodded, distracted by the small rivulets of water dripping from Harry's hair and slowly running down his chest.
"So," Harry swallowed, gathering up the nerve to ask what he had been wanting to know. "Why are you here? Are you softening me up with a home-cooked meal to break it to me gently? Or are you-"
"In love with you," Draco finished. "Harry, I miss you."
They each took a few steps forward, meeting in the middle with a kiss. Though he had been dying to snog Draco since seeing him at the leaky Cauldron, Harry pulled back to clarify.
"What happened to your doubts?"
"I still have them," Draco admitted. He saw Harry's smile waver. "Not about you. About everyone else."
"There are rumors going around about us anyway," Harry said.
"I've heard them. Unless you tell what really happened to you while you were gone, the rumors will only get worse. I think most people already think I've cursed you somehow."
Harry frowned. "But if I tell everything, some overzealous twit at the Ministry may try to bring you up on charges-kidnapping or holding me against my will. They won't understand. They'll screw everything up."
"I wasn't exactly innocent," Draco reminded him.
"I don't care. People can think what they want. I've already given my official statement. I'm not going to sacrifice you to save face."
"That's what I love about you. You're everyone's hero," Draco smiled.
Harry shook his head. "Not everyone's. Not any more. Just yours."
He leaned forward to properly snog his lover, who responded with equal vigor. Between kisses, Draco began unbuttoning his shirt.
"I'm overdressed."
"Me too," Harry smiled and slipped off the towel from his waist. The pair then swiftly removed the rest of Draco's clothing.
Harry laughed softly. "I'm actually more nervous now than the first time."
"You're nervous? Now that you have your memory back, I have competition," Draco laughed.
"That's only fair. I had competition the whole time," Harry pointed out.
"No, you didn't," Draco told him, his tome becoming serious. "No one compares with you."
Harry kissed Draco, gently pushing him backward toward the bed. Draco let himself fall back when his legs touched the footboard. He pulled Harry down with him.
Being the aggressor as he usually was, Harry kept Draco pinned as he ran his tongue over the perfect white teeth, and into Draco's mouth. He rolled his hips, rubbing their erections together. Draco's hand found its way down Harry's back to his firm round arse. His fingers caressed the crease before pushing between the cheeks.
"Accio lube," Harry said as he sat up, straddling Draco's hips. He poured a bit onto his own fingers and generously coated his opening and just inside. He poured a bit more and coated their cocks.
Harry cried out as he lowered himself onto Draco's shaft in one swift movement. Draco moaned as well. It had been far too long since they were last intimate. But they moved in rhythm, easily, naturally as though they hadn't been apart at all.
Draco, overcome with emotion, professed his love once again. So content to be in Harry's arms, he didn't feel vulnerable or guarded. He felt free. And loved. For the first time, fear of rejection wasn't holding him back.
He watched Harry climax as he felt his own. Nothing could have been more perfect.
After a clean up spell, the lovers lay in each other's arms. Harry was about to doze off when Draco spoke.
"So, how was that compared to your other lovers?" he asked, expecting to hear that it was spectacular beyond belief.
"I can't remember," Harry replied with a smirk.
"What?"
"You've just obliterated all memory of any others I may have had," he chuckled. "But it was even better than the first time."
Harry kissed the tip of Draco's nose, then rested his head on his shoulder. They lay dreamily looking up at the ceiling.
"I want you to come back to live with me," Draco said.
Harry hesitated. "Your flat is on the small side. Teddy stays with me quite a bit these days. I have lost time to make up with him."
"Oh, I forgot about him. Do you know that I've never even met him?" Draco found it strange that Harry was so close to his own cousin, when Draco hadn't been even remotely interested in getting to know the boy. Then again, Draco hadn't really known Tonks well either, thanks to the Black family discord.
"You'd love him. He's the sweetest boy."
"Hmm. Children and I do not get along," Draco told him. "But I suppose I ought get to know one of my few remaining relatives."
Harry turned his head slightly to look up at his lover.
"I thought maybe you could move in here," he said hopefully. "I mean, your name is already on the wall. And Kreacher would be more than happy to serve you. Say you'll think about it."
Draco kissed the top of Harry's head. "I'll think about it." He closed his eyes, basking in the warmth he'd been missing for the past month.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Kreacher opened the front door. He frowned when he saw the blood traitor and his mudblood wife standing there. But he bit his tongue for Harry's sake, as his Master wanted him to be nice to the Weasleys.
"Good morning Kreacher," Hermione chirped.
He grunted in response and let the pair inside, leading them to the drawing room.
"Shall Kreacher alert Master Harry to your presence?"
"Please," Hermione smiled. No matter how hard she tried, the elf would not return it.
Kreacher popped out of sight, reappearing in Harry's bedroom.
"Company awaits Harry Potter in the drawing room," he announced.
Yawning and stretching, Harry opened his eyes and sat up. "I'm not expecting company. Send them away."
At the sound of Harry's voice, Draco woke as well. He raised his eyebrows. "Does he barge into your room all the time?" He lay completely nude, but made no move to cover himself up.
"Like I said, no thought to privacy."
"What shall Kreacher tell the blood traitor and his consort?" Kreacher asked. Draco snickered.
"Their names are Ron and Hermione," Harry scolded. "I would prefer you refer to them by their names." He flopped back on the bed and sighed. "Tell them I'll owl them later."
In an instant, Kreacher was gone.
"I could use a little more sleep," Harry remarked.
"Oh, did I keep you up?" Draco teased.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
"Master Harry is still in bed and will owl you later," Kreacher informed the pair. He began to walk to the front door to see them out.
"Still in bed? It's past noon. I'm not going to let him waste his life being depressed in bed."
Ron trotted up the steps, with Kreacher lumbering behind him. He burst into Harry's room to find Harry and Draco lying next to each other nude, but not otherwise engaged, fortunately.
"Bollocks," Ron muttered.
"Indeed," Draco smirked, and turned to Harry. "Your bedroom is awfully busy. I was under the impression that you were miserably pining away for me."
"You could at least cover up," Ron said, covering his eyes.
When Draco made no move to do so, Harry pulled up the sheet. "Ron, what are you doing here? Didn't Kreacher tell you I was busy and I'd owl you later?"
Ron scowled at the house elf. "He left out a tiny detail."
Kreacher shrugged. "Kreacher will be in the kitchen if Master Harry or Master Draco need anything." He winked out of the room.
For an awkward moment, none of the three men knew what to say, until Harry did.
"Ron. Go away."
"Right," Ron said, embarrassed and still averting his eyes, even though the lovers were covered up. "Owl me later."
He quickly left the room and ran down the stairs.
Hermione stood as he entered the drawing room. "What's wrong? Where's Harry?'
"Nothing's wrong," Ron frowned. "He wasn't alone."
"Oh?" Then she realized exactly what Ron meant. "Oh," she grinned.
"Come on," he said and grabbed Hermione's hand.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To find a hot poker to burn out my eyes after that sight," Ron grumbled.
Hermione giggled, imagining what, exactly, Ron had walked in on.
Ron tossed in some floo powder, and they disappeared.
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
Harry couldn't help laugh out loud once Ron left. "Poor Ron really got more than he bargained for coming up here. I think you scarred him for life."
"That's what he gets for barging into someone's bedroom," Draco replied. "Speaking of which, I think we need to do something to keep your elf out. Wouldn't want him popping in at an inopportune moment."
Propping himself up on an elbow, Harry asked, "We? Are you thinking of moving in here?"
"It does make more sense than you moving into my small flat. My new apprentice can have it." Draco laced his fingers behind his head and grinned. "Besides, my name is already on the wall and everything. And Kreacher adores me," he said smugly.
"As do I," Harry said. "Oh, I have something for you." He jumped up out of bed and went to his dresser. He got back into bed carrying a small silver box.
"What's this?" Draco asked, taking it from Harry's outstretched hand.
"Happy birthday," Harry smiled shyly.
"It's not until tomorrow. And how did you know?"
"Mirabelle," Harry grinned. "I had no idea what to get you. Or if I'd even be able to give it to you." He looked away in an attempt to hide his fear of losing Draco.
"You didn't have to get me anything. My mother threw me enough outrageous parties as a child to put me off birthdays forever," Draco laughed.
"It's really not a big deal. I found it here in Sirius' house and thought you might like it," Harry explained.
Draco opened the box and took out a small bit of cotton wadding. Inside was a gold brooch, something to pin on a cloak or an overcoat. It was the Black family crest, beautifully detailed in cloisonne.
"But don't you want to keep this?" Draco asked. "It belonged to your Godfather."
"It should belong to you," Harry said. "There was always so much emphasis on your being a Malfoy, but you're a Black as well. And there were good people in that family. You should be proud to be part of it."
"Thank you." Draco ran his thumb over the smooth enamel. "This would mean a lot to my mother. She's had to turn her back on people she loved in order to protect me. And it behooved her to keep Bellatrix on her good side. She never talks about it, but I often wonder if she regrets severing ties with her other sister."
"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I didn't realize this would be such a mood killer. It was supposed to be a good thing."
"It is," Draco smiled. "I'd forgotten that some of the bravest people fighting in the war were related to me. This is a reminder that I've done the right things with my life."
"At least there's nobody left to blast you off the tapestry," Harry joked. He sat up. "Hey, maybe we should have it restored."
Draco smiled. "I'd like that."
Within a few days, and much to Kreacher's delight, Draco had his personal items moved in to Harry's house. As Draco suggested, Harry gave the elf explicit instructions not to enter the bedroom, unless there was an extreme emergency. However, he managed to follow Draco everywhere else in the house offering his services. Unlike Harry, Draco often found things for Kreacher to do, having missed the use of a house elf in his flat.
By week's end, Draco had settled in to 12 Grimmauld Place quite nicely. He wondered how he ever could have doubted it was the right move. Granted, only four days had passed since he moved in. But the pair quickly fell into their past routine, minus Harry working at the shop. Draco admitted that he missed that part. The new apprentice, Crispin, was not yet up to Mirabelle's abilities, and Draco was considering hiring a second one, part time.
At supper that Friday, Draco was feeling pretty good about his future with the Chosen One. His chosen one. The one who chose him. That is, until Harry reminded him that Teddy was due to spend the weekend with them . . .
〪o 〫O〬 o〭
For anyone keeping track, there are 15 lines in the song. Not including the mostly instrumental part at the end with the variations of previous lines. Anyway, somehow I've managed to come up with a chapter for each line. (as out of order as they may be) So, obviously that means this story will end at chapter 15.
