Title: The Art and Practice of Absolute Pitch

Author: Gold-Snitcher

Chapter Five: Advice to the Lovelorn

------------------------

Harry moaned and thrust his hips up as Draco blew cool air against his damp ear, and down the track of wet that ran up the column of his neck. Draco's hands were busy unbuttoning Harry's jeans, his shirt long-since undone, his arms were the only things still stuck in the sleeves, as Draco had pushed it off his chest and shoulders.

"God," Harry said, as he felt Draco's fingertips ghosting across his skin, just beneath the waistband of his boxers. Harry's fingers flexed, once – twice, where they were clutching his lover's hair.

"Shh," Draco whispered into Harry's gasping mouth before he closed the small gap, dipping his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry's hips were out of his control and he was thrusting them repeatedly against the hand that was teasing him, pressing close to his lover's body as Draco proceeded to drive him wild.

Harry had already stripped Draco of his shirt and had managed to undo his pants and they were both without any shoes or socks. They had made it to the bed, Harry sprawled across the width of it on his back, and Draco bent above him. Harry was certain he was going insane with the building pleasure, but despite his pleas and threats Draco continued, unrelenting, to assault each and every one of Harry's sensitive areas. It had been some time since Harry had been able to utter any intelligible sound, besides the word 'God' that was usually gasped or groaned. It was debatable whether Harry was aware he was making any sound at all, intelligible or otherwise.

Harry arched upwards violently and almost unseated Draco as the blond finally pulled the jeans off of the lithe form beneath him. Harry's hair was more disarrayed than was usual, his eyes were glazed but they soon squeezed tightly shut and his hands curled into the bed sheets above his head as Draco found that spot on the dip of his hip. The blond hadn't even completely removed his boxers yet – hadn't even touched his cock. "God," Harry near-sobbed, eyes still clenched shut and Draco smiled to himself, tugging once more just a little, on the boxers, revealing a touch more skin. He was just about to set back to work when there was a knock on the door.

"Fuck," Draco sighed.

"God," Harry groaned, seeming to become slightly more aware of his surroundings, though his eyes were still glazed. "Ignore it," he managed. Draco was only too happy to obey.

That is, until the knocking turned to pounding, and a loud voice was added to the mix. "Harry!" the voice called, slurring Harry's name and managing to make it eight syllables long. "Wakey wakey!" the voice called.

"It's two o'clock in the morning," Draco whispered in disbelief.

"Maybe he'll go away," Harry said, his voice sounding desperate.

"Harry!" A loud call.

"He's going to wake the entire bloody building!" Draco hissed, he reluctantly sat up and scooted towards the edge of the bed. "I'll get it. Maybe he'll go away if it's me."

"And do what, drive home?" Harry asked. "He's sloshed. Here, I'll go." He rose and, clad in his boxers – which here riding low on his hips – and his white button-down – which he had to pull back onto his shoulders – hair tousled, body glowing with a thing sheen of sweat, and looking like the walking embodiment of sex, Harry began to stumble towards the bedroom door, struggling to do-up his shirt-buttons.

"Harry! I know you're there!" the voice called, and Harry was forced to give-up the attempt to make himself presentable in exchange for getting to the door before Ron got any louder. "Harry!" Ron cried. "It's so good to see you! I've missed you!" Ron cried when Harry had opened the door, and immediately threw his arms around his startled friend.

"I saw you this afternoon, Ron. We had lunch," Harry said, struggling to support his inebriated friend and shut the door. Draco appeared at his shoulder and closed the front door for him, and then took one of Ron's arms and proceeded to drag him towards the sofa.

"What the hell happened to you, Weasley?" Draco drawled in that superior tone he got when he was not pleased with something.

"The marshmallows made me drunk," Ron explained helpfully as he plunked heavily onto the couch.

Draco and Harry shared a look and Draco sighed. "I'll get the blankets." Harry flashed his lover a pained smile and returned to settling his friend onto the couch.

"Remember that game we used to play when we were kids?" Ron asked, and Harry tried to wrack his mind for the specific game out of their long repertoire that his friend might be talking about. "The one with the horses and the funny hats."

"Cowboys and Indians?" Harry asked with a confused frown after a moment of silence.

"Boycows and Inniskillin!" Ron crowed.

"Ron, we never played cowboys and Indians," Harry said, accepting the blankets that Draco passed him.

"Isn't that an American thing, Weasley? An old American thing?" Draco asked.

"Let's play again!" Ron decided. "I'll be the anthropologist and you be the Native."

Draco quirked an eyebrow and flashed a teasing look at his lover. "I always knew you were a geek as a child."

"We didn't play anthropologist and native, either!" Harry insisted as Ron threw off the covers Harry had been tucking around him and proceeded to leap off the couch.

"It sounds kind of kinky to me," Draco said honestly, ignoring Ron as the red freckled man leaped and lurched about the room, already having changed the topic of conversation three times in the past few minutes, despite the fact that his conversation was really a monologue. He didn't seem to mind – or notice.

"You would find something kinky in anthropologist and native," Harry snorted, standing up and trying to herd his inebriated best-friend back to the couch.

"Come on!" Draco retorted, following his lover over to Ron and trying to help drag the uncooperative man back to the makeshift bed. "You find something kinky about playing doctor!"

"Playing doctor is kinky!" Harry insisted.

Ron burst into a poor rendition of what vaguely sounded like a song from 'Rent'. "If you don't think this is the best song ever," Ron said, turning his attention to Harry. "I'll fight you."

"There will be no abusing my lover in the house," Draco said.

"Why thank-you, Chickpea," Harry drawled saccharinely, dredging up an old joke between them from high school.

"If you want to abuse Harry, you can do it outside so I can get some sleep," Draco continued, looking pointedly at Harry.

They wrangled Ron onto the couch and Harry fetched some water, a bucket in case of emergencies, and two tablets of aspirin that Ron proceeded to down before Harry could recommend saving them till the morning. "It tastes like rabies!" Ron declared, scrunching up his features at the taste of the aspirin he had swallowed.

"And you would know how?" Draco asked, at the same time Harry said, "It's just aspirin."

"Rabies candy!" Ron squealed and Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"I'm taking this opportunity to declare that I don't approve of your choice of friends," Draco said.

"He's your friend, too," Harry reminded the blond. "Keep him occupied, I'll make some hot chocolate, that always helps him calm down."

"What do you suppose he drank?" Draco asked as he watched Ron giggle merrily to himself from where he had fallen from the couch onto the floor.

"I dunno. It's hard to say with him, he's not fussy about alcohol. Maybe he had some Irish coffee?"

"Irish coffee?" Draco asked in amusement, fending off Ron's attempts to get him to join into the sea shanty he'd started singing.

"Well, he said something about marshmallows," Harry's voice explained from somewhere in the kitchen.

"You don't put marshmallows in Irish coffee. It's doubtful that he was anywhere near marshmallows at all. But, speaking of coffee, make me a mug, I won't be getting any sleep at this rate," Draco requested.

"What are you talking about? I'll watch him," Harry insisted. "You just go get some rest. No sense us both being exhausted."

"You realize that's what you always say?"

"It is?" Harry asked, poking his head around the kitchen to look at Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes and walked over to his lover where he proceeded to wrap his arms around the lean form, pulling Harry's back so it rested flush against his chest. "We have a distinct pattern when it comes to inebriated friends."

"We do?" Harry asked, closing his eyes and savoring the feel of his lover pressed close, the sensation of breath against his beck.

"It goes something as follows," Draco said. "A friend, usually Ron or Blaise, sometimes Seamus, arrives drunk on our doorstep and proceeds to wake us up, or interrupt a pleasant evening. You entertain and fuss over said friend until he, or very rarely, she, passes out on our couch. Then you insist that you have to stay up to make sure that they don't have trouble in the night, and then you inevitably pass-out from exhaustion. I end-up carting you to bed and then staying up to nurse whichever inebriated friend decided to drop by."

"Really?" Harry asked, sounding vaguely interested.

"Yes," Draco confirmed.

Harry turned in the embrace and pecked Draco on the corner of the mouth. "I love you," he said.

"I know," Draco said, then gave a long-suffering sigh and Harry laughed at him.

"It won't be that bad," Harry offered helpfully, and perhaps a little hopefully. "We'll manage just fine."

…………………………

Ron opened his eyes and it took him a moment to realize that the war zone he seemed to be sprawled in the middle of was actually Harry and Draco's apartment. A moment more, and his hangover caught up with him and he groaned pathetically and wondered what he'd done to deserve this, and swore he'd never drink again, and then wondered what the hell he had done last night.

"Draco," Ron managed when he noticed the blond quietly closing the door to the bedroom he'd just exited. "You're a great man, inspiring, incredible – what the hell did I do last night?"

Draco smirked and shook his head. "I don't know, and I don't want to know," he said. "You showed up here at about two in the morning. You do that again, incidentally, and I'm charging you by the hour."

Ron sighed in relief and settled back on the couch, happy that, whatever asinine things he'd done the night before, at least there were no witnesses who could hold it over him. "Good lord," he gasped when he caught sight of Draco's video camera sitting innocently on the coffee table. "Filming home videos?" Ron asked hopefully when Draco brought in a cup of tea and joined him in the living room.

Draco flashed a mischievous grin, and blinked his eyes. "Oh yes. Replaying all those fond memories from when we took the kids to Disneyland," he replied cherubically.

"What did I do?" Ron asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was an awful thing that Draco had started the second time Blaise had crashed on the couch in his and Harry's home. Filming him making an arse of himself and sharing the footage at the next group gathering. Draco said it was only fair that he should get a blackmail material for the disruptions that his friends caused him and his lover.

"Are you referring to when you reenacted 'Annie'? Or when you turned 'Gone With the Wind' into a musical and attempted to use my six hundred dollar lampshade as your flouncy skirt and fell on Harry – who you had decided was Ashley – when you attempted to woo him back to you with an off-key rendition of 'If You Think I'm Sexy'?"

"Good lord," Ron groaned as Draco proceeded to laugh cruelly at him. Not able to stand the humiliation, Ron got up and headed to the bathroom.

"Weasley!" Draco called, trying to keep his voice relatively quiet, as Harry was asleep in the bedroom. "Coming to Pansy's welcome back party?" he asked.

"Fuck," Ron hissed, and shut the door to the bathroom, locking it firmly behind him.

…………………….

When Harry awoke he felt a bit disoriented. The last thing he remembered was settling Ron back onto the couch after he had finally passed-out. Harry had been fairly certain he'd situated himself on the floor beside the couch in case he was needed, but now here he was, firmly tucked under the blankets of his and Draco's bed.

When he blinked open his eyes, he was immediately confronted with his lover's grey eyes staring back at him. "I told you so," Draco said casually.

It took him a moment to realize Draco was referring to last night's conversation about the ritual they had surrounding inebriated friends. "I'll talk to him today," Harry promised. "It's gone on long enough. How is he?"

"Locked himself in the bathroom when he realized we have footage," Draco answered.

Harry huffed. "You didn't tell him what was on it, did you?"

"A bit," Draco admitted.

"You ruined the surprise!" Harry huffed. "That's one of the best parts! He always sits there and denies he ever did any of it, and that's almost as funny as what he's denying he did in the first place!"

"I'm sorry," Draco said, though he did not sound overly repentant. "I didn't go into detail, though."

Harry sighed despondently. "That's something, at least." Then grinned and rolled his eyes. "Okay then, I'm cutting his sulking short." He hopped out of bed, feeling surprisingly spry since he wasn't usually a morning person, and got dressed.

"Pansy's coming in tonight," Draco reminded his friend.

"I know," Harry said.

"And Sirius called again," Draco said, watching Harry close for a reaction.

"Did you explain to him that we're fine? That I'm fine?" Harry asked. "That there is no point in him continually stalking me, and phoning me? That I'll still be fine the next time he calls?"

"He's just worried. He feels badly that he didn't get a call when it happened, because you know he would have met us at the hospital," Draco said, scooting out of bed to draw Harry back against his chest. He kissed Harry's exposed neck when Harry tilted his head in offering.

"That's why I told you not to call him," Harry said. The car accident hadn't been at all serious, and he'd wanted his uncle to enjoy his showing. Sirius had felt quite differently and had lectured both Harry and Draco about it several times, extracting promises from the both of them that, if anything like that ever happened again, they'd call as soon as they were able. He hadn't left Harry alone about. A day had yet to pass where Sirius didn't check in at least twice.

Draco nodded his head, turning Harry around and proceeding to button-up his lover's shirt. "Well, he's just worried. He knows you're still a bit off about cars and things."

"I've been driving!" Harry defended.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're still off about it," Draco said, running a hand through Harry's black tousled locks to straighten them. Harry at least didn't object to being in a car anymore, and had made several short trips where he took the wheel. It didn't change the fact that he was white as a ghost for the duration of the drive and just a heartbeat away from a panic attack. He had yet to go anywhere in the car by himself, and had lost his usual driving style of quick and controlled steering. Harry never even pushed the speeding limit anymore, he barely even met it.

"I hope you diverted him from calling back to speak to me," Harry said. He'd gotten just a bit tired of being fussed-over about his driving, and cars, and the accident and whatever.

"I did. All I had to do was mention that new bloke he's been seeing," Draco said.

"I'm so happy he's found someone," Harry said, and Draco caught himself from smiling. He'd done it again, distracted Harry with the very same trick he'd use to distract Harry's uncle. "I want to meet him, but Sirius wants a few more dates just to be sure. He doesn't want me to get attached, can you believe it? In case they don't work out. I had to explain to him that I'm not a child looking for a father figure; I just want to meet my uncle's lover! I think he's just trying to appear casual about it when we both know he's over the moon," Harry huffed.

"Which is a lovely difference from my mother and Severus," Draco huffed. "Neither one even tries to hide the fact that they're crazy for each other," Draco feigned disgust and Harry laughed at him. "They're going on their second honeymoon!"

"That's adorable!" Harry said with a grin.

"Please! They're not even married!" Draco huffed. The relationship between Severus and Narcissa never ceased to amuse Harry, mostly because of how Draco reacted to it. Narcissa had not married the man, though after her divorce from her husband, Lucius, was finalized she very well could have. Harry understood that after so many years of marriage, after having a child and raising him with very little support from her husband, and having it all end in divorce, that Narcissa would be hesitant to walk down that road again. Draco didn't see it that way, what he saw was that at the age of twenty-four, he had a more committed relationship with his lover than his own mother had with hers. Draco didn't resent it, nor did he disdain it, but he did squawk about it and huff quite dramatically, but to Harry and Narcissa's amusement. Of course, Harry could take it all in good humor because Narcissa was kind enough not to inflict the presence of Severus Snape on him. Harry had never got along with the old piano teacher, and was relieved that the thought of bringing the man over to any of the meetings they had never seemed to cross the woman's mind.

"They're in love, that's enough," Harry said distractedly as he popped into the bathroom to wash-up. He didn't see Draco's thoughtful look.

…………………….

"What are we doing here?" Ron squawked as Harry pulled to the curb in front of St. Giles' hotel.

"Something I should have done a while ago, but I didn't want to interfere," Harry said. "As your best-friend, it's my duty to support you no matter what you do. But it's also my obligation to set you right when you're being an idiot."

"What are you talking about? Why are we here?" Ron demanded, still not quite recovered from last night's binge.

"Hermione's been staying here," Harry explained. "And before you have a conniption, I have to say that it's one thing for couples to argue. That's completely normal and healthy – in fact, not having spats is what would be bad. It's also perfectly normal to disagree, and have completely contradictory opinions and to revisit an old argument a thousand times over because you can't seem to agree, or compromise. Where the trouble comes is when one person starts to rank their own opinion higher than the other person in the pair. When, instead of talking things out and trying to understand each other, you start to mock them or internalize everything and let it all fester."

"Harry –" Ron said.

"Let me finish," Harry said. "I can understand, because I've known you for so long, and I've known your family. And I can accept it, because it has nothing to do with me, or my friendship with you. Your parents chose to have a big family; it worked for them and they've loved every minute of it. So far, Bill and Charlie have followed in their footsteps, and that's amazing and wonderful, because they're happy. But you don't have to do what your family did. That worked for them, this works for you. And what I have trouble with is that both you and Hermione were happy with what you'd settled on. You both thought it best hold-off having a baby for a while. It's easy for me to see why you suddenly changed your mind. I know your mum and I know she puts on pressure like you wouldn't believe. And it was fine before when you'd give in to her. It's not fine now, though, Ron," Harry said. "You're twenty-four, and living with your wife. You and your wife made a decision that suited you both. So it's not fine to give-in to your mum and make Hermione look like a selfish woman in the eyes of your family and to everyone else."

"I didn't meant to!" Ron denied.

"Of course you didn't," Harry huffed. "But that's what you did. You were both happy and content until your mum started harping about grandchildren, and then you turned right around on Hermione and started-in about babies." Harry looked up at the hotel where he knew his friend was staying and sighed. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. But I am going to call you on your shit, and this is it. You need to make a choice, if Hermione really means something to you, then you'd be willing to stand with her against anything, even your mum." A glance over at the redhead showed that he was taking all this in. "I only have one more thing to say," Harry said.

"What?" Ron asked, slightly stunned as if waiting for more words from some learned monk.

"Get out of the damn car," Harry said with a grin. Ron grinned back at him and rolled his eyes before he grabbed the handle of the car and exited.

"You'll be fine to get back?" Ron asked, knowing Harry didn't like driving on his own.

"Go, you bloody git, I'll manage," Harry said.

…………………….

Draco was prepared for Pansy to visit. He wasn't prepared for her to pop-in three hours before her flight was even supposed to land. And for Blaise to have chosen that same time to visit as well. He loved both his friends dearly, but he had to admit that they were horrible to each other. If Harry were there then maybe the fight could have been stopped. But as it was, Draco was left trying to ineffectively stop the pair.

"It's the best seller so far," Pansy was saying. "It's gotten rave reviews in all the journals, Draco. And I've been on tour for signings and publicity for ages! This is the first opportunity I had to get away!" Currently both Blaise and Pansy were speaking to Draco as if the other wasn't there, but the conversation was such that Draco knew the conversation wasn't at all directed to him.

"I've been busy with the opening of 'The Carnival', Blaise said. "But you know, Lucy has been such a godsend," he added. "I know you wouldn't care much, Draco, but she's gives the most amazing massages, just incredible. And she's always there whenever I get back from rehearsal. No muss, no fuss. She's just layed back and easy."

"I'll bet she's easy," Pansy smirked.

"And the biggest tits," Blaise continued. "Nice and firm. They fit so nicely in my hands," he held up his hands like he was holding on to Lucy's tits exactly at that moment.

"Do you mind?" Draco said, unable to see how they were warring with each other.

"You would care more about her tits than anything!" Pansy snapped.

"Well, they're better than yours," Blaise retorted maturely. "And she doesn't fucking harp on me all the time!"

"Harp on you?" Pansy asked. "Is that what you call have a mature discussion? I guess if you mess around with Barbie dolls long enough you develop the brain of a Ken!"

"You bint!" Blaise snarled.

"Would you stop?" Draco shouted, but by now both Pansy and Blaise had faced-off against each other.

"It's completely sick how you carry-on about her breasts," Pansy said. "Who in this room is supposed to give a goddamned about some twit's tits?" she asked. "Draco couldn't care less. Even if he wasn't madly in love with Harry, I doubt he'd be looking at cup size to establish his next date! Even if he was straight."

"Don't drag me and Harry into this!" Draco said. "And the both of you shut up."

"We talk about these kinds of things," Blaise retorted. "We're friends. Friends talk about these kinds of things!"

"Draco, do you care about Lucy's cup size?" Pansy asked.

"No," he answered immediately, then shook his head. "I thought we were stopping this! I thought I said not to bring me into this!"

"You're just jealous!" Blaise said. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"Yesterday!" Pansy shouted. "But at least I'm decent about it and not discussing dick size in the middle of tea!"

"It couldn't have been worth talking about then!" Blaise snapped.

"Fuck, Blaise!" Draco snapped. "I'm going to toss you out on your fucking ear if you don't shut up!"

"Toss her out!" Blaise said.

"She's living here while she visits! And she wasn't the one that starting sniping!" Pansy flicked her long hair over her shoulder and straightened her shoulders back. She looked very sophisticated standing there in heels and a casual black dress, her long hair down and wearing a sparkly pair of dangly earrings. In contrast, Blaise was wearing only his casual attire. Draco wondered if it was that Pansy clearly looked successful that had set Blaise off, or if it was just that they had really grown so distant from each other. After all, this wasn't the first time Blaise and Pansy had butted heads.

"Well, when she's swanning about and gushing about her damn book –" Blaise began, but was cut of as Draco proceeded to push him to the door and then out into the hallway.

"You're a good friend, Blaise, you really are. But you're being an ass. Pansy's here for the duration of her visit, so if you can't restrain yourself, don't visit. I'll phone you tonight." And then Draco shut the door and huffed.

"God," Pansy said, and Draco could see that she was upset by the argument. "He gets worse every time," she sighed. "When did he get so shallow?"

"Don't even try to think about it," Draco said. "Well," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Welcome to London!"

Pansy laughed twice, two staccato hiccups of sound, sharp and slightly bitter. "Just – would you consider holding off my welcome back party?" she requested.

"Who said we were planning a party for you?" he asked, but when she threw him a pleading look, he nodded. "Sure. But let me know when you're ready, I can't hold everyone off forever." She nodded and turned to survey her bags. "Go ahead and unpack. I'll pick-up a video from around the corner and you and Harry and I will stay in tonight, watching films and eating pizza."

"God, I love having gay friends," she said, and Draco laughed at her and gave her the bird before he collected his keys and headed out to the video store.

……………………..

When the music started playing, Sirius' first reaction was to flop an arm in the general direction of the alarm clock. But when smacking the damn thing several times didn't stop the damn music, he huffed and shifted about so he could look at the time. It was almost noon. "It's your cell phone," Remus' voice came from somewhere in the general vicinity of the lump that separated Sirius from his alarm clock, and he realized that several of those smacks he'd originally aimed at the alarm had probably come down on the other man's head.

He groaned, wondering who could be calling, and how he could have slept in so late, and whether Remus might be up for another go, all at once, before Remus' arm came out from beneath the covers, snatched the phone off the nightstand, disappeared under the covers, only to reappear in front of Sirius, offering the still ringing phone.

"What?" Sirius demanded into the phone.

"Turn it on," Remus advised from beneath the covers.

"What?" Sirius demanded again, having turned the phone on this time. "What?" he asked again, suddenly fully awake and sitting bolt upright in bed. "What hospital?" He asked, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Remus toss back the covers hastily and sit up. He felt the other man's supportive hand at the small of his back and tried to remain calm. "Okay, I'll be right there."

"What happened?" Remus asked, his voice concerned and worried at once.

"It's my nephew," Sirius said. "Apparently he was in the middle of a recording and just – passed out or something. Draco just called. He only just arrived at the hospital. Harry's manager called an ambulance and really didn't think to notify anyone else beyond Draco."

"Logical assumption, I guess," Remus said.

"I'm his uncle!" Sirius railed, as he tried to pull on a pair of jeans.

"But in the frenzy of the moment, it's completely reasonable to think of the spouse or the lover. You said they were living together," Remus said. He knew Sirius' temper and didn't want the poor manager to get an earful – not that he wasn't going to anyway, but still. "Is Harry alright? Do they know?"

"Draco didn't know. Apparently Harry hit his head when he fell; he's not woken yet. Shit!" he cursed as he wedged shoes onto his feet.

"Here, I'll drive you over there," Remus said.