Disclaimer: The original, which is not owned by me, is better, except for the part where the wrong people end up together.

Warnings: Potential for smut, but no actual smut. Sorry.

A/N: Meant to post this yesterday, but I forgot. I promise I'll have another one this weekend. Also, I'm not sure which one of these guys is dumber. Get it together, will ya? (Would it help if Draco told the truth?)

Saturday morning found Draco fussing about in his wardrobe, trying to find something casual enough for a pickup game of Quidditch but nice enough that he wouldn't appear lazy.

When he finally emerged, he found Blaise and Ginny waiting for him. Blaise raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Draco just glared at him.

"This is my wife, Ginny," Blaise said, by way of introduction.

Draco took her hand. It appeared that Blaise had kept his word and hadn't spilt to his wife who he really was. Draco felt himself relax considerably, until his eyes met Ginny's. There was something wrong. As she gripped his hand in hers, she leaned in close and whispered, "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

"You know?" Draco whispered back.

Ginny snickered into his ear. "You'll have to remember all my brother's names. I doubt that they'll appreciate what you've dubbed them."

Draco glared at Blaise over the top of Ginny's head.

She straightened up and said, "So, you're coming with us?"

"Yes, Harry invited me."

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Ah. You must have made an impression on him, then."

I hope so. "It would seem that way."

The three of them made their way to the empty field. A few others were already there, including some of the children. They waved merrily to Draco, no doubt hoping he might give them an impromptu lesson at some point. He grinned back at them.

The rest of the Weasley clan trickled in. Draco was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He was particularly glad for his glamour. He wasn't sure that under ordinary circumstances he would survive so large a gathering of this particular family. He shuddered at the thought.

Potter—Harry—was one of the last to arrive. He came with Granger and her family. When Draco caught a look at her husband, he drew in his breath sharply. He had been aware of what Weasley had been through, of course, after what Harry had shared. But seeing it was something else entirely.

Draco had never seen a wizard his own age incapable of walking unassisted. He supposed that was due to the fact that there were healing spells of all sorts. Draco remembered Harry telling him that whatever had caused Weasley's accident had left him with permanent damage. He had use of a walking-stick, and his face and the visible skin on his hands were a mess of spell-induced scars.

Leaving the others, Harry came up to Draco. Smiling, he said, "Come meet some of the others." He placed a hand lightly on Draco's shoulder, steering him toward Granger, Weasley, and their children.

Harry introduced Draco not only to Weasley but to the rest of the group as well. Draco did his best to keep their names straight, as calling all of them "Weasley" was out of the question and he certainly couldn't let on that he'd given them all rather rude nicknames. In all, there were only about six people he hadn't already met. Naturally, he was acquainted with most of the children.

Draco was mildly surprised to see Councillor Weasley, whom the others all referred to as Bill, among them. He had assumed that a person of his position would be too busy for that sort of thing. His own father would never have attended such a gathering unless there were something in it for him. Draco surprised himself by thinking that perhaps Bill had it right after all.

Not everyone was playing Quidditch. Speccy Weasley, who turned out to be called Percy, wasn't playing, and Granger was sitting out as well. Apparently, she wasn't keen on flying. Naturally, Blaise would not play either. Like Granger, he had little interest in being on a broomstick. He plunked himself down with the other adults and a few of the children.

Draco glanced over at Harry. He was standing back a bit, hands in his pockets, watching Ginny hold Percy's youngest in her arms.

Draco came to stand next to Harry. He nudged him lightly with his elbow. "You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Fine, thanks."

Draco wondered briefly if Harry regretted that he hadn't married her. But he didn't get a chance to think more about it, because one of the others (George, he thought) was dividing everyone into teams.

"Oi! Hadley! What position d'you want?"

Draco thought. It would be so easy to pretend, to slip into a different role from the one he'd had in school. To play another position. But one glance at Harry and the only thing he could think was that he suddenly had an insane desire to beat him, just this once.

"Seeker," he said with confidence.

George raised an eyebrow. "You any good?" Draco nodded, so George asked, "You all right with that, Charlie?"

Charlie, who it turned out was the stocky Weasley Draco had met in town, shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I'll play keeper."

"All right. That makes Harry, Victoire, Ginny, and Teddy against me, Ang, Charlie and Hadley. Ready, then?"

"Hey!" came a voice over Draco's shoulder. "Aren't you forgetting about me?" Looking round, Draco saw Ron standing just behind him.

There was a hush. Draco caught sight of the rest of the clan exchanging glances. After an extended silence, George said slowly, "Wasn't sure you wanted to play."

"Of course I do. I didn't lose my ability to fly, you know."

After a tense moment, George nodded. "You want my team or Harry's?"

"What do you think?"

George managed to rope Bill into playing on his team to balance the numbers. Once everyone was sorted out, they started the game. As they took their positions, Draco realised he had no idea what a 'casual pickup game of Quidditch' looked like to a bunch of Weasleys. The whole thing felt surreal.

He must have looked uncomfortable, because as they were starting, Harry leaned over to him and whispered, "Scared, Hadley?"

For a split second, something flashed between them and Draco was caught off guard. He recovered his composure and whispered back, "You wish." With a wicked grin, he took off, not waiting for a response.

For a casual round among family, this crew was fiercely competitive. Every single one of them was highly skilled on a broom, even Teddy and Victoire. No wonder Harry hadn't complained about having two adolescents on his team.

Draco concentrated. He kept half an eye on the rest of the game while staring around for just the tiniest glint of gold. More than once, he thought he had spotted it, only to have it disappear again just as he set off after it.

Meanwhile, the action around him was continuous. While hovering and waiting for the Snitch to appear, Draco had the chance to watch the other players. Ron had been right about not losing his ability to fly; he was far steadier in the air than he had been on the ground. Draco hadn't remembered him being a spectacular Quidditch player, but he was clearly holding his own; Angelina was hard-pressed to get anything past him.

At last, Draco saw what he was looking for. It was hovering just above his team's makeshift goal. Without a second thought, he began to circle the pitch with purpose, always keeping the Snitch in sight. He didn't want to let on that he'd seen it.

Unfortunately, Harry appeared to have caught on to what Draco was doing. He followed Draco's gaze and saw the Snitch. That was it. Both of them set off toward it at top speed.

Draco didn't spare a glance at Harry. He could feel him at his side. They were pacing each other, neither letting the other ahead, pushing each other faster. The wind whipped Draco's hair as he sped. Nearer—nearer—he was almost there. He reached out his hand, his fingers brushing the Snitch. Potter's hand was there, too, and for a moment, their fingertips touched.

The feel of the skin-to-skin contact was nearly electric, and Draco almost let go. He heard Harry give a startled gasp, losing just a tiny fraction of his momentum.

Draco's hand closed around something. He could feel the Snitch's wings beating against his palm. He had done it. He had beaten Harry.

The sheer pleasure of the moment spurring him on, Draco swooped in the air, looping around. He was nearly giddy with delight. After all this time, he had finally won a game of Quidditch against the famous Harry Potter. Gracefully, Draco landed amid the cheers and whistles of the others.

After receiving thumps on the back from his teammates, Draco stole a glance at Harry.

"Good game," Harry said. "You play well."

There was something off about his expression. At first, Draco thought it was merely that Harry's ego had been bruised by the loss, but that didn't fit. He seemed somehow...unsurprised. Something occurred to Draco.

"You let me win." It wasn't a question.

Harry shrugged. "I'll just let you keep wondering," he said with a wink.

Draco felt himself losing his grip. Harry certainly hadn't lost his ability to be maddening, that was for certain. Rather than lose his temper, however, he began to walk away. Before he got far, Harry grabbed his arm.

"Wait. I didn't mean it. I honestly didn't let you win, I promise." He sighed. "I just still haven't learned how to lose graciously."

Draco wavered.

Harry continued, "Besides, you don't want to go yet. We're just going to hang out, eat, play another game or two. Will you stay?"

Draco wanted to say no. He wanted to open his mouth and spit back at Harry that he wasn't to be treated as though his ego were really so fragile. But seeing the look on Harry's face, the one that said that he wanted Draco to stay, made him keep it to himself. He nodded.

Harry grinned and pulled him back toward the others.

They stayed long into the evening. Someone had brought a wireless, and they listened to the strains of Celestina Warbeck, some of them dancing. Draco saw Blaise holding Ginny close, swaying with the music. They looked as though the rest of the world didn't exist.

It was a beautiful late summer evening, the sky deepening to a rich purple-blue. Everyone was relaxed. George and Teddy tossed the Quaffle around with the younger kids. Draco sat in the grass with Hugo and Rose, making tiny, illuminated bubbles stream out of the end of his wand and flicker before bursting.

The children ran off, chasing the last of the magic bubbles. Draco leaned back, propped on his elbows, and closed his eyes in contentment. He felt someone move beside him, and he opened his eyes again to see Harry at his side. They didn't speak; they just looked up and watched as the stars popped out. Draco turned toward Harry.

Green eyes met his own, and he saw a soft smile playing on Harry's lips. Without even thinking about what he was doing, Draco leaned closer. Their lips brushed in a whisper-kiss, a touch that left Draco shivering and wanting more. He pulled Harry closer, kissing him in earnest.

They broke apart. "Walk me home?" Draco asked.

"Sure."

When they arrived at the Hog's Head, they stood at a secluded corner of the building. Harry said quietly, "I'm glad you were there today."

"I am too," Draco said, without really meaning to.

"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting. I'm just…not very good at this. And you make me feel things I haven't allowed myself in a long time."

Draco had no idea what to say in response. That despite himself, he thought he might be feeling the same way? That he also hadn't given himself permission to need someone? "I—"

"May I—may I kiss you?"

Those words were Draco's undoing; no one had ever asked before. He couldn't do more than nod. Slowly, Harry moved in toward him, laying his hand on Draco's cheek. Their lips met.

They stayed like that for several minutes, deepening their kisses. Draco moved his hand to Harry's hip, drawing their bodies flush. Draco pressed himself upward and into Harry. As he did so, he could feel how much Harry wanted him. He groaned quietly and shifted so that Harry could feel him, too.

They were rocking their bodies together, pushing into each other. Draco slid his hand down to cup Harry's backside, forcing closeness. He very nearly lost himself in the sensation, but it wasn't enough. He didn't want Harry here, like this, in an alley. He wanted what he had denied himself for years. No matter how much he had refused to admit it, he wanted more than just to satisfy an empty lust.

While he could still form coherent thoughts, Draco slid his lips along Harry's jaw and up to his ear. "Come in with me," he pleaded.

It was as though a spell had been broken. With a gasp, Harry backed away. "I—I can't. I'm sorry," he said. He turned to go.

"Wait!" Draco called, but Harry was already running back down the deserted street.