Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: Okay, Draco arrives at the Burrow.

Warnings for this chapter: Language, probably. Insinuations of incest because Draco has a dirty, dirty mind.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco took a deep breath, attempting to calm his stomach, which seemed to be trying to stage a revolt. Maybe he shouldn't have had that omelet for breakfast. He'd woken up feeling refreshed and oddly peaceful, an emotion the Slytherin rarely experienced. Draco had felt so relaxed he'd smiled all during breakfast, exchanging grins with Harry over their omelets. However, as the hours ticked by nervousness began eroding that morning-after contentment away bit by bit until Draco felt like a bundle of raw, exposed nerves.

I can do this. I'm a Malfoy and a Slytherin. I'm a pureblood with a lineage so long I could choke on my own tongue trying to recite it and all my ancestors were powerful wizards and witches. I'm a prefect and I'm bloody good at potions and Ron Weasley is going to kill me for fucking his best friend. I'm too young to die! Draco babbled silently, panicking at the thought of being stuck a whole week in what amounted to enemy territory.

He stepped away from the fireplace, eyeing the floo powder nervously. "Maybe I should just stay home, Harry. Are you sure I'll survive whole week with the Weasel? Not to mention the other red-heads. How about I just keep an eye on the cottage while you visit?" He wheedled, knowing very well that it was a lost cause.

Harry sighed. "Relax, Draco. It'll be fine. And you promised to behave, remember? You have to go. Please, for me?"

Draco shot him a glare. "That's not fair, using that. And do I look bloody senile to you? Of course I remember! And I will behave, but it won't mean much if someone strangles me to death, will it?"

"Ron wouldn't do that." Harry said firmly, trying to coax his lover towards the fireplace.

"He would too." Draco protested.

"He may want to, but he won't. He knows he'd end up in Azkaban and there's probably spiders there. Don't worry about it Draco, just floo! Moony and Padfoot've already left and they've got to be wondering what the hold up is."

"I don't care! I'll be dead, Harry! Dead! Corpse-in-the-bloody-ground dead! And when exactly are you planning to tell Weasley we're shagging? Because I want a head start before he comes after me! Maybe I can hide out in France until he's cooled off."

"Draco! Stop it! Everything will be fine. Ron's my best friend and he may not like the fact we're - whatever we are - but he'll come around. And I won't let him hurt you. Okay? Do you feel better now that you've had your panic attack?" Harry said soothingly, pulling Draco to his chest and holding him tightly.

The Slytherin nodded sullenly, only slightly appeased by the kiss to his cheek. "You just have to play the hero don't you?"

"Quiet, you. Just floo already."

Draco took another deep breath, this time letting a determined expression flit across his face as he stepped out of the other boy's arms and towards the fireplace. He took a handful of floo powder and tossed it into the grate, thankful that Sirius and Remus had already taken care of their luggage. Draco didn't want to go, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter. He'd promised after all and he didn't have the heart to let Harry down like that. "The Burrow!"

Merlin, help me.

The floo trip was over quickly and Draco stepped out of the fireplace, dusting the soot off himself. He was wearing some of his muggle clothes, which consisted of a pair of tight black jeans and a long sleeved gray t-shirt that showed off the delicate slope of his collarbones. His dragonhide boots were in need of a polish, but they'd do for a trip to the Weasleys. Draco had purposely dressed down, though only because Remus had hinted that a bit of tact and discretion was probably necessary if he wanted to come out of this alive and with all his limbs. Draco had to agree. The Weasley temper was infamous.

Which was why he was so very, very worried.

I can do this. I can - oh Slytherin's skivvies, I'm so bloody dead. He moved to the couch and waited for his lover's arrival. Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace, glasses askew and dust smeared all over his face. The other boy obviously didn't do well with magical means of transportation.

"Harry!" Granger rushed him, crushing him against her in a bone-cracking hug that was far too strong for such a slender girl. Draco raised one eyebrow and watched, amused, as Harry wheezed for breath.

"Watch it, Hermione. Can't… breathe! Thanks." He said, gulping in air once his friend had released him. Harry adjusted his glasses and attempted to dust himself off.

Hermione smiled at him welcomingly. "It's been a madhouse around here! Mrs. Weasley is making scones and Mr. Weasley's been pestering me about muggle technology. Fred and George are exploding things in their room and I think Sirius has gone up to help them. Remus is chatting away with Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and Ginny's been talking non-stop about Malfoy."

Draco shifted uncomfortably while Harry snickered. "What about Ron and the others?"

Hopefully in Peru. Is Weasley in Peru? Because that would be wonderful. Though I'm pretty sure I'm not that lucky.

"Oh, Percy's with Penelope out back. Bill and Charlie are degnoming the garden and Ron's been running about like a chicken with its head cut off getting ready for your party. Mrs. Weasley even baked a cake!"

"Told you there'd be cake." Draco said with a grin at the utterly pleased expression on Harry's face. It was so easy to make him happy sometimes. Draco briefly regretted the fact he hadn't terrorized the Dursleys more. They certainly deserved it for the way they'd treated Harry. His poor, mistreated Gryffindor.

Harry was beaming at him, his eyes so bright Draco thought the twinkles in them could probably have given Dumbledore's a run for their money. The Slytherin gave his hand a surreptitious squeeze and, for the sake of his dignity, pretended like Granger hadn't noticed the gesture and made a girly 'aww' face at him for it.

"Harry!" Weasley bellowed, running into the room at full speed. Draco dropped Harry's hand swiftly, but only after one last squeeze. The redhead didn't even notice. "You're here mate! Happy Late Birthday!" He clapped Harry hard on the shoulder, sending the shorter boy careening into Draco. The Slytherin barely managed to keep them both from toppling over. "Whoops! Sorry about that."

"Honestly, Ron. You shouldn't be running in the house."

"And you shouldn't be nagging me about running in the house." The freckled boy retorted quickly to his girlfriend. "C'mon, Harry! You have to see the new poster I've got up." He all but ignored Draco, but at this point Draco was more than happy to be ignored.

"Sure, Ron."

"Well? Come on!" And the redhead was dragging him away by his sleeve. Harry paused to throw an apologetic glance over his shoulder at Draco, but the Slytherin just waved him off. Yes, he would have liked to be the center of Harry's attention twenty-four hours a day for seven days a week, but that wasn't feasible and really, he didn't want to spend more time around the Weasel than he had too.

The two boys disappeared up the stairs, though Ron's enthusiastic voice could be heard until they shut the door of his room behind them, dulling it to a soft drone. Granger managed a small smile for him. "So, how are you doing, Malfoy?"

"Fine." He answered politely. You just have to remember to behave, Draco. Or Harry will never do that thing he did last night to you again and you wouldn't want that, would you? And I really should stop talking to myself. I wouldn't want to end up like Great Uncle Tybalt, running about thinking Cornish pixies are out to kill me.

Hermione took a seat on the couch, gesturing for him to join her. He did so cautiously, keeping a safe distance between them. Finally, he remembered his manners. "How was Venice?" He vaguely recalled Harry mentioning that she had vacationed there. Fortunately, he remembered right and the Gryffindor girl started blathering on about how wonderful Italy was, taking control of the conversation so Draco didn't have to worry about his sharp tongue getting away from him.

Draco let the frizzy haired Gryffindor bore him to death with her nattering for almost half an hour before Sirius came to his rescue. By that time Draco was about ready to stab his wand through his ears, just to end his own misery, but Remus had already confiscated it before they'd left the cottage out of fear that Ron would end up with two noses or something else similar to that if Draco kept it on hand.

Sirius plopped down next to Draco, grinning widely. "Those twins should be made honorary Marauders! They're quite the handful, aren't they?" He had a smear of something pink and gooey across his cheek, but Draco was too amused by it to mention it to the dark haired man.

"Oh, they're terrible troublemakers. They made poor Percy's life hell when he was Head Boy."

"Speaking of which, I'm fairly certain you'll be appointed Head Girl next year, Granger. And no doubt Dumbledore's going to make Harry Head Boy."

"Oh, well. I suppose it could happen." Granger said modestly, grinning a little to herself. "You're probably in the running too, Malfoy."

Draco snorted. "Like they're going to make Lucius Malfoy's son Head Boy without heavy bribes? I don't think so. Even if I am disowned, the school board won't chance it."

"Well, we'll see, won't we?" Sirius chipped in with a smile. "I think you'll all do perfectly fine next year."

BABOOM! The sound of an explosion halted the conversation as the Burrow shook for a moment and Sirius looked sheepish. "YOU TWO BETTER CLEAN THAT UP, MARK MY WORDS, BOYS!" A incredibly loud, piercing voice that would not have been out of place in a howler called from the kitchen. Draco was staring wide eyed at the ceiling as plaster dust fell. Sirius was trying to stifle his laughter, though he was having some trouble.

Granger leveled a frown at him that was eerily similar to McGonagall's trademark expression of disapproval. "Were you encouraging them, Sirius?"

"Um, no? They're going to have a hard time getting that off the ceiling though." The Marauder grinned impishly. "Those two are doing some amazing thing with potions. You'd love it, Draco. Why don't you go up and say hi?" Sirius urged, smiling at him encouragingly.

Draco hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending any more time listening to Granger go on about her studies was the deciding factor. "Alright, then." He nodded politely to them both and made his way up the crooked stairs, past several rooms and to the door where wisps of smoke were escaping the crack at the bottom.

He knocked at the door after a moment of hesitation and it was flung open in short order, revealing one sooty redhead with gunk hanging off his left ear. "Well, hello there Malfoy. What are you doing lurking about?"

"Sirius said you've got some interesting potions up here. I'm rather fond of potions myself so I thought I'd come take a look."

The twins had Draco stuffed in a rubber apron with goggles and rolled up sleeves, helping them with their newest experiment in no time flat. They were both exceptionally clever, far more clever than he would have given them credit for, and Draco thought that since they were supposedly honorary Slytherins perhaps spending time with them wasn't quite so embarrassing as it should have been. He filled them in on some of his own research as they worked and found, to his delight, that the two Weasleys were not only impressed, but were actually willing to buy some of his potions for their own line of sweets.

By the time lunch rolled around they'd already come up with a whole list of goodies to be made out of Draco's new potions. Chipmunk Chews, Moody Munchies, Dizzy Drops, Laughy Taffy, and Gushing Gobstoppers seemed to have the most promise. They'd even worked out a commission rate and the amount of royalties Draco would be getting when Molly Weasley finally called for them.

"LUNCHTIME, FRED! GEORGE!" She all but bellowed. "I want you clean and down here in five minutes! Do you hear me?"

"Yes, mum!" Shouted Fred, who was just a bit shorter than his brother.

"We better hurry up." George said, pulling off his apron and stepping over a pile of pink gunk near the corner of the lab bench.

"Before Ron eats it all." Fred pitched in. Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to the way they finished their sentences. In fact, he wasn't at all sure he wanted to know just how close the two brothers were. Maybe it was his inner pervert talking, but their habit of predicting each others' moves and what the other was going to say was not only entertaining it was…. Well. A bit - unsettling. He'd heard rumors at Hogwarts about the former Gryffindor beaters, not all of them fit for polite company.

Draco sighed, untying his own apron and pulling off the goggles that had messed up his hair as he fretfully tried to fix the damage. "You are a vain one, aren't you?" Fred observed, grinning as Draco tried to smooth his hair down.

"You'd be too if you looked like me." The Slytherin shot back haughtily.

"Oh ho! I have it on good authority -"

"That we're quite handsome blokes!" Fred finished for his brother, exchanging a wink with his twin. Draco gave them both an odd look and finally decided he was better off not knowing.

"Right. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving." They spent some time jostling each other in the bathroom while they all attempted to wash their hands at once and then the twins pounded down the stairs, running towards the kitchen flat out. Draco followed at a more sedate pace, too well behaved to stomp around when he was a guest in someone else's house.

When he finally reached the kitchen table his steps faltered. There were so many people packed around it that there was not enough room for a garden gnome, much less Draco. Harry waved him over with a grin. "Here! C'mon Draco. You need to eat too!"

"Oh dear, there's barely any room at all and - Don't even try it, Ron - I'm so sorry, dear. Perhaps you could sit on Harry's lap? You're such a slender boy. I am terribly sorry about this." The Weasley matriarch slapped her son's hand away from his older brother's beer without any hesitation and Draco snickered at the wounded look the Weasel shot his mum. Granger was actually sitting on his lap, though he had no idea how she managed to look quite so prim and proper in such a compromising position.

"If that's all right with, Harry?" Draco questioned, lifting one eyebrow and smiling slightly at the grin he received.

Harry nodded easily. "Sure. Just don't steal my food, hm?"

"Perish the thought. You're so skinny you need all the food you can get, Potter."

Draco managed to settle himself with reasonable comfort on the other boy's knee and he even managed to keep a smile off his face, despite the fact Harry had slung an arm around his waist to keep him from slipping off. Just feeling the other boy against his back made him go all gooey and strange inside. One part of Draco was afraid of that, but another welcomed it whole heartedly. And he was still in such a good mood from last night that he barely minded he was sitting in the other boy's lap like some girl.

A handsome redhead with a fang earring piped up from the other side of the table. "I could eat in the living room." He offered solicitously, but his mother quickly put an end to that.

"Don't you even dare, Bill Weasley. You'll eat at the table or you'll not eat at all. It's a shame it's raining or we could have gone out to the picnic tables, but this will have to do."

Ginny piped up from where she was ensconced in Charlie Weasley's lap. "Maybe next time we can just set up a pavilion or something? I mean, it's raining too heavily to do it now, but maybe next time."

"What a clever idea! That's my girl!" Arthur Weasley said with a wide smile. Then he turned to his other side where the Weasel sat with Granger in his lap. "So, Hermione, tell me. What exactly are floppy disks for? Do they really flop?"

Conversations had sprouted up all over the table and the gabble of voices was a distinct counterpoint to the soothing pitter-patter of rain outside. Harry's thumb was moving back and forth slowly, caressing Draco's stomach as they both ate from the Gryffindor's double-packed plate. Everyone's elbows were in the way and the Weasel knocked his glass over two times in succession before Granger put it out of range of his gangly arms. Draco leaned back into the other boy and snuggled down, satisfied at being exactly where he was, and glanced down the table just in time to catch Bill Weasley's knowing look.

Well, bugger. Apparently not all the Weasleys were as dense as Ron.

"You want my corn?" Harry asked, pushing it around with his fork idly.

"No. You eat it. It's your corn."

"I was just offering." The Gryffindor said innocently, attempting to sneak a bite of Draco's little lump of mashed potatoes. Harry had already finished his in record time. Apparently it was a favorite.

Draco cut his fork off with his own. "Hey! Those're mine."

"Oh, sorry." Harry said contritely, but he tried to get another bite anyway.

They started dueling with their forks, clashing the tines together as Harry tried to steal the potatoes and Draco blocked him every time. Ginny giggled at them both and Remus sighed, passing them the bowl of mashed potatoes with a meaningful look. "Share boys."

"But I want his potatoes." Harry fake-whined, laughing at the stern look Remus leveled on him.

"You big potato stealer. Stop it! Don't make me stab you with my fork." Draco threatened playfully, shifting his grip on his utensil to make his point.

"Ooh. That was a threat! Five points from Slytherin."

"I'll give you threats you little…" Draco grumbled, laughing despite himself. Ron took the time to stare at them both as if they'd gone completely off their rockers before returning to his conversation with Sirius.

"Oh, please Draco? Can't I have just a bit?" Harry's hand dipped unseen below the other boy's waist, rubbing softly at Draco's crotch. The blonde coughed, startled at the Gryffindor's boldness, and carefully pried his hand away, hoping desperately no one had caught that.

"Sure." He half-croaked, still out of sorts. "Just - eat it already." Draco quickly took a sip of his pumpkin juice while Harry smugly took a bite of his mashed potatoes. The Slytherin couldn't help but turning a little to get a glimpse of the utterly satisfied expression on Harry's face. He just looked so cute when he was being a bastard.

Harry laughed softly, his chuckles tickling the back of Draco's neck. "Thanks, Draco."

"I didn't want the potatoes anyway." He said sulkily.

"Yes, but I wanted them, which means you would've eaten them anyway."

Draco had to admit this was true. "Well. Yes. So?"

"Nothing, Draco." Harry said quite happily, wrapping his arm back around Draco's waist snugly. It was a comfortable half-embrace, casual enough not to be noticed by any of the others at the table. The Gryffindor squeezed a little and the gesture warmed Draco.

Really, perhaps a week at the Burrow wouldn't be all that bad.

To Be Continued…

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome.