With a Little Luck
Chapter Eleven

The next morning Draco awoke to the growing scent of ham. Baffled, as Cally never prepared meals without his request, he hurriedly pulled his robe around himself, grabbed his wand and descended down to the kitchen. The sight before him stilled Draco at the doorway where he watched Harry huddling over his stove, quietly working away at preparing breakfast. The set table for two caused a smile to draw itself upon Draco's lips.

"Having an early morning?" Draco drawled after a moment.

Harry startled at his voice and quickly turned around to meet him, knocking a carton of eggs off the counter as he did. They fell to the floor, quietly cracking. "Dammit," Harry swore, lowering himself to the ground and yanking a cloth off the edge of the sink as he did. "You surprised me, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he began to apologise.

"Don't worry about it, and allow me," he instructed gently, pointing his wand at the mess and levitating the broken eggs to the trash. "Scourgify," Draco finished tidying up the mess as Harry turned back to the stove.

"There were half a dozen eggs left, I'm really sorry-"

"For unknowingly dropping my eggs?" Draco teased, "What's all of this about anyway? Cally has specific instructions to obey you as well, Harry, she would hardly mind preparing breakfast for you."

"I know, but I wanted to do something for you. After last night, well, after everything…I really don't mind cooking, either," he admitted.

Unwilling to complain about how unnecessary it was, and also unwilling to admit openly that he quite enjoyed the prospect of Harry Potter in his kitchen making his breakfast, Draco fixed them both cuppas before settling down at the table. "Speaking of Cally, I was informed by my mother yesterday that House Elves must be freed, paid wages if they continue to work, and be registered to the home."

Harry smirked over his shoulder, "Good for Hermione, then."

"Yes, only Granger could have accomplished such an atrocity against House Elves. Not that it really matters. Mother has found herself a handful of House Elves willing to continue working despite being given clothes and I am certain Cally would prefer to stay here."

"Weasley. She's not a Granger anymore," Harry corrected.

Draco absently ran his fingers along the rim of his cuppa as he watched the back of Harry work, admiring the ease with which he moved about the kitchen. He still favoured his left side, but otherwise looking at him Draco was seeing a whole new man from the one he had seen two months ago. "She will always remain Granger to me." Waiting until Harry plated their breakfasts and sat down at the table, Draco continued on the matter of the new House Elf laws. "Registering House Elves is not as simple as claiming one as an employee to one master. As you know, most House Elves serve homes and families, not just one individual. The Ministry wants to closely monitor everybody within the home of where the House Elf works, for legality's sake. They wish to have all those within the residences named and registered as the House Elves' employers. This would mean, if Cally were to remain here, you would have to be registered. The Ministry will be conducting thorough checks on homes to ensure they are following the law…I would hate to ask this of you, Harry, but if you wish to remain, which you are more than welcome to, then when I go to the Ministry later this week to register Cally, I will also have to register you as a member of this house. This would then become public information as you cannot own a House Elf privately any longer, they would be considered civil servants just as the goblins at Gringotts are," Draco explained, exhaling heavily afterwards.

Sitting back in his chair, Harry gripped his cuppa within both of his hands, turning it in his palms and relishing the warmth of it. "I understand…but if I'm going to come back to everything…I want to see Hermione and Ron first," he said resolutely.

"After what they did to you?"

"They didn't do anything to me," Harry quickly said. His tone was sharp, almost defensive, and it made Draco ire.

"They are the reason for what happened to you!" he said, unknowingly raising his voice as he spoke.

Slamming his fists on the table, Draco jumped back in his chair slightly – surprised at how quickly Harry turned to anger. He was seeing more of the old Harry resurface. His voice was low and dangerous when he spoke. "Justin is the reason for what happened to me. It is not their faults," he spat.

Reeling in his emotions on the situation, Draco reminded himself that Harry was not his to dictate to, despite desperately wanting to. "If you truly want to see them, allow me to arrange a meeting here. I was considering asking Granger for the favour of keeping my registry with Cally away from public eye," he conceded, which was half-true. He had entertained the idea but knew Granger would be disinclined to help him. On the other hand, if he was going to present her with Harry Potter, Draco was certain she would do what she could to keep his whereabouts private.

"Thank you," Harry said tightly, the tension still thick between them as they both settled down, staring at their breakfasts.

Looking between their food, Draco noted he was the only one to have eggs on his plate. He sighed and shoveled one of his eggs onto Harry's plate, who proceeded to eye Draco curiously. "You can't expect me to sit here and eat your food without you having a proper breakfast, how rude do you think I am, Potter?" Draco drawled, stabbing his remaining eggs indignantly with his fork.

The slip of his last name, for the first time, did not cause Harry to wince as he smiled. "Clearly not as rude as I once believed, Draco. So…where do you plan on taking me today?"

The prospect of buying Harry a new wardrobe distracted Draco from any lingering negativity. Harry silently ate his breakfast as he listened to Draco excitedly talk about Muggle vendors he had seen whilst in the small hamlet they had visited before.

As soon as they later apparated to the village, Harry did not let go of Draco and instead allowed his hand to slip down into his as he entwined their fingers. Draco squeezed the digits tightly for a moment before allowing their hands to rest together. It was unlike the first time they had visited the village for Draco held onto Harry for comfort – for support. This time, Harry held onto Draco because he wanted to. Since their shared kiss just the night before Draco was desperate to discover what they were but unwilling to ask, fearing he would cause Harry to feel trapped or even obligated.

They moved with ease through the town and Draco noted how impressed he was with Harry's progress. He really was a resilient individual, though he never doubted this fact before. By the time afternoon dawned on them, Harry was exhausted from trying on so many different items and begged Draco to return home. "We still have to fly today, too," Harry reminded him, hoping they had enough energy left to do so together.

Once back in Draco's home, Harry stilled at the doorway and turned with a slight grin. "We forgot to get eggs."

Draco smirked in return. "Eggs can wait. I want to see you out of my clothes and on my broom before I'm too knackered to care," he drawled but then immediately regretted his words. "Damn, I didn't mean for that to sound how it did," he amended.

Harry, despite a new redness kindling on his cheeks, smiled brighter at Draco in a way that unnerved him, "Whichever way you meant it, both are fine. I'll be down in a minute…have the brooms ready. Er, the ones that fly for now, if you don't mind," he joked before disappearing upstairs.

XXXX

"Oi! Malfoy!"

"Zabini, if you could kindly lower your tone to that of a normal decibel…" Draco drawled as he snapped his work locker shut. It was the end of a particularly long shift and Draco longed for nothing more than to return home, where Harry would undoubtedly be preparing dinner in the kitchen again. Draco had attempted multiple times to persuade him against it, but Harry insisted, convincing Draco that he enjoyed the act.

"Sorry, mate, I thought I was going to miss you. Bane has been asking around about you again," he commented slyly.

"You better have told him to bugger off," Draco mumbled. He wanted nothing more to do with that man.

Blaise shrugged. "I have no reason to, other than the fact you're a regular prat but I'm sure he's already aware of that-"

Draco sighed. "What do you want, Blaise? I would much rather not be here when I am not being paid to," he said pointedly, edging towards the door. Blaise skipped along and followed, his hands now in his pocket.

"What do I want? Oh, nothing, besides perhaps a little honesty from a friend," he said seriously. "You've been more cheerful this week than usual."

Turning sidelong, Draco spoke in a deadpanned voice. "You call this cheerful?"

"More than usual. Does it have something to do with your housemate?"

Needing to run a particular errand before heading home, Draco wanted desperately to shake Blaise as quickly as he could. "Perhaps it does, but I hardly see how our relationship is any of your business."

Blaise grinned broadly. "Oh, so there's a relationship now is there?" he teased.

Draco rolled his eyes exasperatedly, muttering over his shoulder at Blaise before leaving him to depart through one the employee's floo exits. "You desperately need to find better things to do with your time than pester me, Zabini." But even as Draco turned to step through the floo network, Blaise was looking triumphantly after his friend.

Stumbling through the other end of the floo, Draco immediately straightened himself, fixing his work robes. Immediately he was greeted by a woman sitting not far away in the visitors' entrance at the atrium's desk in the Ministry of Magic. "State your name and business," she said.

"Draco Malfoy, here to see Miss Hermione Gran- Weasley in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

The witch behind the desk gave him an oddly strained look, pursing her lips, before calling him forward to affix a visitor's badge to his robes. Draco declined the offer of being led to Granger as he brought himself up to familiar grounds again. It was not nearly as crowded as the last time he paid the witch a visit, for that he was grateful. Yet, once again her nose was buried deeply within a book alongside her hand which quickly scrawled on a lengthy scroll of parchment.

"Granger," he greeted coolly, careful to keep any of his lingering disagreeable emotions for the Muggleborn out of his voice.

Hermione startled and nearly knocked her ink bottle over, catching it at the last moment. She looked frazzled already from the work she was pouring over but Draco's presence intensified that. "M-Malfoy! I was looking for you!" she exclaimed, far too excited to see him. Draco grimaced, unnerved by her tone and half-smile that even grew on her face.

"I heard. However, in the future please refrain from pestering my friends with such trivialities."

Frowning now, Hermione conjured a chair anyway and invited him to sit. Draco peered around the room. Though a few lingering individuals looked their way, it appeared relatively safe to speak with her. Hermione was already withdrawing her wand, casting a silencing charm around them. When Draco looked at her questioningly, she shrugged, "I figured whatever brought you here would be something you wish not to discuss in public."

"How very astute of you," said Draco as he took the offered seat, "What was it you wished to see me for?"

"Oh, you actually came because I was looking for you?" she returned incredulously.

Draco scowled. "Of course not, I am no Crup that comes at your beck and call. I have an offer to extend to you and your –" refraining from using the word Weasel, Draco waved his hand lazily between them, "husband."

"An offer?" Hermione repeated, as if the term were foreign to her ears.

"I would like to speak with you and your husband. On my terms, however, in my home. You are both welcome, but for now your children are not. This is a subject matter I prefer to keep quiet."

"You want…Ronald and I to come to your house? Why would we ever do such a thing?"

Draco dropped his voice, despite there being a silencing charm he didn't want to risk being heard. "Because you and I have a particular interest in the same individual, and I have some information you may wish to hear regarding him."

Hermione went blank. "H-Harry? What do you know? Do you know where he is?" she asked frantically.

Draco shook his head and then looked around the room once more. "Tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. I will owl you the location of my home. You will have to apparate. I have to warn you, that if your husband does anything untoward, you will regret having come in the first place," he warned.

"Of course, we are grown up enough to understand the laws of civility, Malfoy," she returned icily, offended that he thought they would treat a host in any negative manner.

"Before I leave, as I desperately wish to be out of your company, what did you want to see me for?"

Hermione shot him a scowl before lessening it. "It was strange. Not a day after you came here asking about Harry, Justin Finch-Fletchley sent me a letter."

Draco sucked in a sharp breath and leaned forward, clenching his fists on the top of her neatly cluttered desk. "About what? About Ha-Potter? Does he know where he is?"

"No…" she eyed Draco strangely before continuing. "He went on to explain that he didn't care for our differences over the years but that he and Harry had fallen out. Justin doesn't know where he has got to and he asked me if I had seen him. I never responded because there was no point to, really, since I haven't seen word of Harry for years," she explained.

"Fallen out alright," Draco muttered to himself, ignoring the strange glances the Muggleborn was casting him. "Tomorrow, can I expect to see both you and your husband?"

"Undoubtedly."

When Draco arrived home that evening, he was immediately assaulted. Harry was waiting for him in the kitchen and when Draco entered, depositing his top work robe onto the nearest chair, Harry was on him. Pushing his back up against the doorway, Draco nearly toppled over but quickly righted himself. Harry's hands were grasping his upper arms lightly, holding him in place as his mouth drew Draco's down onto his. Harry kissed him feverishly, his tongue pushing through Draco's open and confused lips.

It took a few moments before Draco was able to assess what was happening and he eventually melted into the other man. Relaxing, he drew his arms around Harry and kissed him back. Harry withdrew from Draco's lips after a moment but he didn't stop kissing him. Continuing down from his mouth, Harry led a trail down Draco's jawline, his neck…

Draco hissed as Harry reached a particularly sensitive spot and pushed him slightly away. "Harry," he whispered, his voice heavier than he thought it would be.

Harry flushed and withdrew, awkwardly adjusting himself as he did. "I've been thinking about doing that all day," he admitted.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco couldn't help but smirk at the admittance. "I'm glad I'm on your mind," he took his seat at the table, with what was now the familiar scene of the two place settings being ready, their dinners still hot. Draco picked up his utensils and began to dive into what appeared to be Bolognese, "If you were wondering, you're always on mine, too," he said just loudly enough for Harry to hear.

Harry beamed. "Good."

XXXX

"Are you sure you want to do this? There is still time to cancel," Draco assured as he glanced at the clock once more. Perhaps that was a lie. But he could figure out some way to keep the Weasel and Granger away.

"Of course I'm sure," Harry said quickly. "Whatever happened was years ago. I'm not mad at them. I miss them, they're my friends…they're like my family," he corrected himself. "Besides, if you're here it will be fine."

"Speaking of which, in what capacity would you like me to be here for you?"

"I have nothing to hide from them," Harry resolved, standing up from his seat on the Chesterfield and approaching Draco who was currently at his desk mulling over some of the texts Blaise had left a week prior. Harry pushed Draco back from the desk slightly to allow himself room to wiggle in between him and the books. Harry sat on the edge of the desk, leaning down low enough so that their lips could almost meet. He was smiling that blinding Potter smile at Draco again, and despite hoping to have built up an immunity to it, Draco smiled in return. "I like having you stand by me," Harry affirmed.

"Until you wish it, I won't be going anywhere else," Draco assured him, craning his neck upwards to capture Harry's lips in a chaste kiss.

Harry maneuvered himself down from the desk and onto Draco's lap, straddling him. His movements, his kisses, they were all becoming increasingly bold. Draco was certainly surprised and thankful for his progress. Draco was also impressed with his own restraint, though how much longer he could hold onto it he was unsure. It certainly did not help that his wayward dreams of Harry had returned.

Rolling his hips into Draco, the blond dug his nails into his desk which he was still holding onto. Yes, he was certain that his restraint could not last much longer. "You know," Harry muttered into his ear, his lips ghosting Draco's skin, "You don't have to hold yourself back," he said as if performing legilimency.

Shivering, Draco resisted the urge once more to grapple onto Harry and devour him. It didn't help that all the work he continued to do in the back garden was continuing to tone his body which felt heavy and right pressing down against him. "I want to take it slowly. I want to follow your lead," Draco explained through clenched teeth. It really didn't help that Harry was doing something absolutely wonderful with his hips that Draco was desperately attempting to ignore.

"Why? I trust you," Harry responded surely.

"I don't want you to ever believe that I'm using you. That I have any ill intent. I want you to know that everything I may do with you physically, is because of something I feel," Draco elucidated.

"I know. You're not him. I'm not completely damaged, here. I'm a grown man. If you ever do something I don't like, I promise to tell you and I know that you will stop. Please, stop treating me with such fragility," Harry nearly begged and for effect he rolled his hips once more.

Draco caved as his hands released his desk and instead latched onto Harry's hips, perhaps a bit too hard as the man on top of him yelped in surprise. When Draco leaned forward it was Harry's neck he captured, not his lips. He started along his collarbone and savoured the taste of Harry's skin, the feeling of it against his mouth. Harry groaned and bucked downwards onto Draco, his hands weaving themselves into his platinum hair as he pushed Draco's face closer into him, as if asking for more. Draco obliged as he began to devour him rigorously, licking and kissing every patch of available skin within his reach.

A sudden, shrill sound through the house alerted Draco that the doorbell had rung and their guests had arrived. Harry, gasping for air, pulled back with a husky smile. "Bugger, it was just getting good."

Draco half-grinned as the prospect of Granger and Wealsey in his home automatically diminished any mood that may have been transpiring between them. "Do you want me to bring you a cuppa? When I return?"

"Er, no. I think a stiffer drink will do, though," Harry said, sliding off the desk now as he gestured towards Draco's drink cart at the other end of the study. "You're going to tell them just what we practiced, right?"

Nodding, Draco rolled up the sleeves to his long, buttoned blouse. He was wearing grey slacks and a white shirt. Harry wore black slacks and a grey shirt; ever since their outing he had been relishing the clothes Draco had picked out for him. Together, Draco imagined they would be a strange sight for the Weasleys to endure. "Of course. It will probably be a while before we return. Read a book, silence the room if you must, but whatever you may hear…perhaps it is best you remain here until I bring them up," Draco advised.

Harry was nervous now, all reminisces of his earlier desire erased as he bit his lower lip. Draco kissed his cheek and squeezed his shoulder gently. "I will be here, you will be fine. I promise," he said before disappearing from the room.

Out in the corridor was another story. Draco Malfoy faltered. He was perhaps less prepared for this than Harry was. He was uncomfortable with the idea of his friends returning to his life, uncomfortable with the prospect that they brought of Harry outing himself in their world once more, that following this meeting they would be pursuing Fletchley, and most of all Draco did not know if he would be able to supress his anger regarding the Weasleys enough.

Readying himself, Draco went downstairs to greet their guests just as they rang the doorbell a second time. When he opened, he was greeted with Granger's unorthodox smile and her handing him a basket with what smelled like baked goods. "Thank you for inviting us over, Malfoy. May I call you Draco?"

Draco resisted the urge to scowl. "Whatever pleases you," he drawled. "Weasley and…Weasley," he frowned, certainly that wouldn't do when both of them were in the room. Draco sighed. For civilities sake, for Harry, he extended his free hand. "Hermione and Ron," he corrected, shaking them both. Ron appeared a much more skeptical counterpart of his wife. He seemed largely as Draco had remembered him, but thinner and with a semblance of a beard trailing his round face.

"Malfoy, what's the meaning of this?" he asked.

Biting his lip, Draco addressed Hermione. She was safer to interact with. She was also sending her husband a disapproving glare for his question for which Draco was thankful. "Would either of you like tea? Coffee? Wine, Hermione?" he offered. This was going to be a long night, and for Harry, Draco wanted it to go as smoothly as possible.

"That depends," Hermione said a little too loudly as she followed Draco into his home, clearly cutting off something her husband was going to say, "Will the wine be necessary?"

"Red or white?"

"Do you have any cabernet? I was never a fan of merlot. My mother always tells me I will get used to it with time but – "

"Are we really going to stand here and bloody discuss wine?" Ron snapped.

"Ronald!" Hermione hissed.

"What? This whole thing is bloody ridiculous! What do you want, Malfoy? Cut to the chase! If it's anything remotely involving you I don't want anything to do with it."

Draco ignored him as he poured three full glasses of cabernet, taking the head seat at the table as Hermione sat down on one side of him. "And if it involves your beloved Golden Boy?"

Ron stilled, his face turning white. "She wasn't lying. You know something about where he is? Have you seen him?" he asked, uncaring now that it was Malfoy's house he was sitting in as he flopped down beside Hermione and took the offered wine.

"It is all a rather long story and I do hope you remain attentive as it is a story I don't wish to repeat more than once. If you have any questions, bear with me until the end…" Draco warned, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a large gulp.

"Please," Hermione said softly, "Tell us everything you know."