A/N: All right, I know some of you may be upset I'm not delving immediately into the plot, but I plan for this part to hopefully be as long as the first... So please be patient with me and enjoy the story. It will get intense and angsty and incorrigibly plotty at some point, I promise. haha. Oh, and thank you all for reading and leaving such encouraging feedback! You guys are the best. :)

Also, if any of you are interested in reading a fantastic Supernatural Lucifer/Sam story, check out 'Luci' by cathartic; it's sooo ridiculously wonderful. Yes. Read it.

-CHAPTER TWO-

Pale hands dusted soot from dark green material. Draco's lips pulled to one side as he frowned, leaning over to look up into the fireplace at Twelve Grimmauld. How had it gotten so dirty in just a few weeks?

"Master Malfoy!"

"Ah." Draco used lightning fast reflexes to duck away from almost smacking his head. He straightened himself, smoothing his silk tie as he shot the excited house elf before him a disapproving look. "Kreacher, the floo is disgusting, why haven't you been cleaning it?"

The old servant bowed so low his huge, crooked nose almost touched the plush gold and silver rug on which they both stood. "Kreacher is sorry, Master Malfoy, Master Potter sent Kreacher to the dungeons and said no cleaning. He said he would give Kreacher a sock if he don't obey."

Draco blinked a few times, and he glanced around the sitting room at Twelve Grimmauld Place. He and Harry had shared the city townhouse ever since finishing their last year at Hogwart's. They spent holidays and most weekends at Malfoy Manor, but Draco hadn't wanted to move into his childhood home just yet. He knew it'd make his mother feel like she had to move out, so they'd mostly taken up in the house Harry had inherited from his deceased godfather, Sirius Black. It had taken several months to completely de-hex and update the place, but now Draco actually found it more relaxing than the manor, not to mention the convenience of being in London.

"Did he? And how long ago was that?" the tall blond asked as he looked around.

There were random pieces of Harry's outfits strewn about the high-ceilinged sitting room. A red sweater with a stain on it lay draped over one of the armrests of the dark leather sofa; a single black sock was hanging over a few of Draco's favorite books set atop the wooden coffee table; Draco's favorite jacket of Harry's, a black military style one, was just lying inside out on the floor by the doorway that led into the hallway.

"Two weeks ago! Kreacher told Master Potter that maybe Master Malfoy left 'cause he don't appreciates all his mess, and Master Potter threw Kreacher in the dungeons, he did!"

The tall blond nodded distractedly, noticing all the empty glasses littering the space, and resisted leaning over to sniff and check what had been in them. He pressed red lips together in a straight line.

"We don't have dungeons, it's a basement, and your quarters are down there," he said, clipped. Then he began to leave the room, calling over his shoulder when he heard quick little footsteps following after him eagerly, "You can clean again, Kreacher. Do the floo then the room."

"Yes, Master, thank you, Master!"

Draco strode down the hallway, pausing to glance in the dining room. Platinum blond brows drew together as his gaze roamed over the space where Harry usually ate and Draco read the paper. The table was covered in what looked like the contents of his potions cupboards, and they probably were his too, considering his nicest cauldron was perched in the very middle of the tabletop. He let out a confused breath but then turned away to ascend the staircase.

He stopped at the top, considering checking his potions rooms, but then he decided against it and continued to the end and stepped into the master suite, the door ajar.

Grey eyes searched the private space he and Harry had shared for more than a decade for only a second. The tall blond walked in, leaning over to grab up piece after piece of Harry's clothing as he did, despite knowing he shouldn't. He couldn't help himself. He dropped an arm-load of clothing in the tall wicker laundry basket in the corner. Then he walked over to their king-sized four post and tied back white curtains before pulling out his wand to do up the bed but not before giving the red sheets a good cleaning charm.

After a few dusting charms to clean off the wardrobes, nightstands, and hardwood floors the blond stopped to push open a window. Cold air blew in, and Draco leaned over to peer out. The sky was a deep red and orange over the trees that edged a small park across from them. People walked below, most of them on their way home from work.

He pulled on the knot of his tie until it came undone, and he undid the top couple buttons of his shirt before letting his head drop. The chilly evening breeze ruffled his hair, and he listened to random voices, not focusing on what they were saying but enjoying the silence it brought to his own thoughts.

The floo downstairs roared to life.

"Kreacher was told to clean!" was shouted right away. "Master Malfoy says he wants it clean!"

"That's fine, please stop shouting though, I have a headache, Kreacher," was said back, Harry's voice pained and tired sounding. Then more quietly, Draco heard him add, "Is he here now?"

"Yes, Master Malfoy is upstairs in the masters' room. I's just doing what he says."

"All right, that's fine. And I don't need food tonight, I'll be going out for tea."

"Again? But Master Potter must eat at home with Master Malfoy, he's just come back he's might leave us again if—"

"That's enough," cut off the house elf's tirade.

Draco swallowed, turning his head slightly to listen to sluggish footsteps as they approached the stairway, pausing a long moment, and then he stood upright when he heard them on the stairs.

Then Harry was standing in the doorway.

The dark-haired wizard looked around, unhappy. "You know, the room was fine the way it was."

Draco sniffed, shrugging platinum brows, even as his heart picked up its pace at the mere sight of the wizard. He resisted approaching Harry, not willing to chance being hexed. "I see you made use of my potions equipment," he said dryly, teasing mostly, "I'm not sure why you felt the need to move it all down into the dining room though, now there are just more rooms that need cleaned up."

Harry tossed his jacket over the back of a red-upholstered chair near his side of the bed. He started to respond but then stopped to shake his head. He let out a breath of a laugh. He looked down and began to undo his shirt, his tie already missing, probably on the sitting room floor if Draco had to guess its whereabouts.

The tall blond's lips twitched when Harry threw his shirt over his jacket a little too forcefully.

The dark-haired wizard undid his pants and let them drop, stepping out of them, his expression hardening. "You have a lot of nerve, you know that?" Harry blurted as he stood in just a pair of black boxers, his arms thrown up in agitation. "You just come back after being gone for three weeks and don't explain yourself or even act like anything's happened." Draco said nothing, letting the wizard continue. "And you're so worried about cleaning up after me now? Well let me tell you something," he said, his voice lowering more as it grew louder, "it's been a mess here ever since you left and it didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now, not one bit!"

Draco let his gaze drop some, regret niggling at his chest. He was really angry... and rightly so. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said, subdued. He stepped forward to stop the dark-haired wizard from passing by him angrily. He looked down at him as he stood blocking the doorway to their bathroom. "I really am. I don't want to fight with you, and the house is fine, I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry I vanished on you, it was never my intent."

Harry blinked once, his expression unchanging.

Draco let out a sigh. "It was for work. I would've told you beforehand, and I'd explain myself better now, but you know how the department is with protocol. I've not been released to speak on it."

Harry's jaw flexed, and he focused straight ahead. "Is that all?"

Draco's mind hummed indecisively. He carefully raised his hands, settling them cautiously on the wizard's neck. When Harry didn't pull away he used his thumbs to gently tilt the wizard's chin back up until he was meeting an unhappy emerald gaze under a pitch-black fringe. "No." He wet dry lips just barely. "I also missed you terribly, and I thought about you everyday, and I felt awful when I found out I missed your speech today"—then he paused, the hint of a smirk teasing at his lips despite everything—"Minister Potter."

Harry rested his face in Draco's cool hands, and he groaned in protest, breaking into a tired grin begrudgingly. "If you start calling me that I'll make you sleep with Kreacher in the dungeons," he mumbled.

Draco's lips curled up further, his right thumb gently caressing the wizard's jaw. "Yes, I heard of his woeful mistreatment at your hand," he teased softly.

Harry huffed a breath. "You mean mine at his, he's so mean when you're not here. I swear he likes you better than me."

Draco leaned down, pressing his lips tentatively to the skin just beside the wizard's tempting mouth. "He's a fool then," he murmured smoothly. His pulse picked up when Harry shifted closer, and he rested his forehead against his, enjoying the closeness. A warm hand settled on his chest, resting a few beats before sliding up to grasp the side of his neck, and a jolt passed between them as some of Harry's overflowing life magic passed over to him.

He grazed the corner of the wizard's mouth with his lips, the touch featherlight, his breaths silent but choppy. "That always feels so good," he whispered appreciatively, and he received a jerky nod from Harry, who relaxed predictably from the exchange.

Draco felt lips press to his, and he shifted his feet more under him, grasping the wizard's face more firmly as their mouths parted at the same time, the kiss deepening and growing more desperate without warning. Draco hummed as fingers began to undo his shirt, and he let his own hands start to trail down, over deliciously warm skin. "I've missed you, so much, Harry," he insisted between kisses.

Harry pulled back too soon, and he said around heavy breaths, "Wait, shit, wait. We can't do this right now. We have a dinner, I mean I do, but you're invited too, I'm inviting you now."

Draco blinked a few times, gathering his wits. "A dinner? For what?"

Harry took a step back, and rubbed a hand roughly over wild black hair as he stood in only his boxers, his lips swollen, green eyes glazed over with a certain emotion. "Ah, to celebrate my new position."

"I'm just saying, it's a bit antiquated, isn't it? Why do we need a minister when we have the Wizengamot anyway?" Pansy Parkinson took a dainty sip from the martini glass in her hand. The witch wore a floor-length Slytherin green dress that hugged her modest curves and that matched painted nails.

"To meet with and coordinate with the muggle Prime Minister and to serve as an elected figurehead to the wizarding community," Blaise Zabini drawled, his tone bordering indifferent, "Don't worry, Draco, she's just upset because Harry has actually been expecting her to work instead of just sharing top secret intel with her over midday cocktails."

"That's not true!" the charmed-blonde defended herself, shooting her husband of eight years, a withering glance. The two former Slytherins were seated on a sofa next to a distracted Draco. "I just expected a modicum of mutual respect, I suppose that was too much to ask though. He's so short-tempered!"

"Well maybe since Dray is back, things will improve," Blaise said without any conviction, and then he leaned back when Pansy stood with an annoyed sniff, her drink empty once again. "I'll take another too." He held out his empty glass, and he waited until his wife was out of hearing range in the busy hall before he turned a suddenly sharp gaze onto his best friend. "Why wasn't I invited on your little trip?" he asked, pointblank.

Draco looked away from Harry, who was across the low-lit room talking to some blond dressed in Ravenclaw colors and whose name he couldn't place. He stared blankly at his friend.

"Was it somewhere hot?" Blaise asked, dead-panning. "I bet it was somewhere hot, you could've trusted me. I need a break from the snow and Pansy too, she wouldn't have minded. She's been itching for an affair since last spring."

Draco directed his attention back to Harry with a flick of grey eyes. He took a sip from the glass in his hand, grimacing slightly at the taste. "You think it'd be morbid if I brought blood to these parties?" he asked, dry.

"Very. Seriously though, why didn't you invite me? And, I know this is going to sound hypocritical, but I have to say, that was rotten of you to treat Harry that way. I've never seen him more upset. Of course, I was there for him, but—"

"I did not have an affair, Blaise," Draco said coolly. "I was working a case, and if Harry says you tried anything I will make Pansy a very rich widow."

Blaise laughed by his side, and Draco scowled as the blond Ravenclaw continued to monopolize Harry's time across the room. He and Harry had shown up together, but after eating, Harry had been promptly whisked away by a couple of the members in the Wizengamot, and he'd been talking to the blasted blond now, whose name he couldn't remember, for the last thirty minutes.

"Diggory."

"What?" Draco asked, not looking over.

"That's Benjamin Diggory talking to Harry, Cedric Diggory's older cousin by ten years. You remember the Hufflepuff who was—"

"Yes, I remember," Draco said, not needing what would undoubtedly be a rather uncouth recall of the wizard's untimely death. He tried to focus his sharp hearing on the two wizards, but all he accomplished was making everything else seem that much louder. Harry seemed to be really enjoying their conversation, whatever it was.

"He's Harry's new public advisor, Pansy says they've been meeting everyday this week to eat lunch and discuss work."

Draco watched the wizard, who was close to Harry's height, possibly a little taller, place his hand on his forearm. He stood up.

"Oh, I wouldn't advise that, Dray, you haven't really earned jealousy rights back yet."

"Shut up," Draco said, and then he was moving around wizards and witches and towards Harry and the blond wizard.

"No, the speech was perfect, I don't think you could've delivered a better one," Draco could just hear Benjamin Diggory saying in a private tone to Harry as he neared. "It was unfortunate that Finnegan brought up Mr. Malfoy, but I don't think anyone will begrudge you your right to respond to such an accusation..."

Harry visibly stiffened, and then Draco came to a stop by the wizard's side, drawing a surprised but pleased look from him. "Draco, I thought you were going to duck out with Blaise and Pansy."

Draco gave a closed-mouth smile. "No, I considered it, but then I remembered how truly obnoxious they both are."

Harry's grin grew, and he huffed a laugh. "Was Pansy complaining about me much?" he asked, turning to face him and looking a little sheepish.

Draco leaned down some to whisper softly near the wizard's ear, "Yes, and Blaise was trying his hardest to get hexed."

Harry let out a surprised laugh at that. "Did he tell you about—"

"Draco Malfoy, we haven't met," was said politely, drawing the two wizards' attention, "I'm Benjamin Diggory, Harry's public advisor."

The tall blond straightened, shooting the wizard who'd been monopolizing his boyfriend's attention a cool look. He felt Harry's hand touch his side in a placating gesture.

"Ben and I were just talking about my speech this morning," Harry offered a little too quickly.

"Yes, and what did you think of it?" the wizard named Diggory asked, studying him with an openly curious expression.

Draco raised his chin, looking down over his nose at the politely smiling wizard. He didn't like him, at all. "Unfortunately, I was unable to make Harry's speech, I've been out of the country for a case the past few weeks," he drawled, despite feeling a resurgence of guilt with his own admission. "I've only been back a few hours now." He felt the hand on his side give a firm squeeze.

"You know," Harry said, interrupting the awkward conversation before it could continue any further, "Draco's just reminded me how selfish I've been tonight. I think we're going to slip out. Would you give my regards?"

Benjamin Diggory's smile warmed at that. "Of course, Harry, enjoy your weekend. I'll see you for lunch Monday so we can discuss the Finnegan matter?"

Harry nodded distractedly. "Yes, right, sounds great, thanks, Ben," he said, turning away with a silent Draco by his side.

So previously I had a nice threat here that greatly amused me, but then I started to write on the next chapter... and so here is a real note, haha.

Please leave some feedback to encourage the writing of the next post; it really speeds the process.