Post-Coital Conversations

1

Draco lay back and watched Harry pick up his shirt and pull it on.

"Got something to rush off for?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Harry, squinting at his buttons, "we're having a dinner party."

There was a pause.

"You should come, actually. It's just going to be Hermione, Neville and Lavender, the twins and Bill and Fleur," said Harry. "They'd like to see you."

"Like?" Draco sneered, "None of them would like to see me. Most of them would be happy to never think about me again."

"Hermione would like to see you. So would Ginny. And since when did the great Draco Malfoy care what others thought of him?" Harry reached for his trousers.

"If it's all the same with you, I'd prefer not to spend an evening with people who find my company unpleasant. Besides, I already have plans."

Harry laughed, harshly. "Moping around this mausoleum hardly counts as 'plans'." He started to put his socks on. "Come on, Draco, live a little. Come."

Draco looked away from Harry's earnest gaze. "No thank you," he said, "but please give my regards to your guests. And your wife." He pulled one pillow from the stack he was leaning on and lay down with it under his head.

He shut his eyes, "I'm going to have a nap. Turn out the light on your way."

He heard Harry sigh, then the swish of material as he pulled his robe on. He left the room without putting his shoes on, whispering, "Nox," as he left. He shut the door carefully behind him.

Draco opened his eyes and lay staring at the ceiling for a long time after he'd gone.

2

Draco lay still. He could see Harry's nervousness and feel his hesitation. Perhaps whatever he was about to come out with was going to explain why he hadn't seen him for weeks. It might also explain the slightly abrupt manner with which he'd arrived and the rush to the bedroom before they'd done more than exchange pleasantries.

"Draco," said Harry slowly, and with reluctance. "I suppose I should tell you before the papers get hold of it."

Draco raised one eyebrow. This sounded ominous.

"It's...Ginny's pregnant." He paused. "We're going to have a baby." Harry's eyes filled with a strange kind of wonder, as if he hadn't completely understood what that meant until this moment.

Draco felt something drag at his insides. He ignored it.

"How fantastic! The hero and his childhood love are going to have a baby. The Wizarding World will go nuts! This calls for champagne!" He clapped his hands and a house elf appeared.

"Get us a bottle of champagne. One of my father's finest." The elf disappeared and Draco turned to Harry. "He'd have loved for it to be used to celebrate this." Harry was looking at him with slight concern, but he snorted at this thought.

"He's probably rolling in his grave."

"Indeed," said Draco, accepting the bottle and two glasses from the house elf and beginning to open it. "Or he would be, if he had a grave. Or a corpse, come to that."

The cork came out with a pop and he poured some for Harry and then himself. They both relaxed back against the pillows stacked in front of the headboard.

"So," said Draco, taking a delicate sip and feeling the bubbles fizz on his tongue, "is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Harry tensed up again and Draco smirked into his glass. He was so predictable.

"I haven't been avoiding you." Draco just snorted at this.

"Well, ok, maybe a little," said Harry. "She told me after that dinner party, a couple of weeks ago. I just...She'd been doing pregnancy tests, and looking at baby clothes and I'd been...here."

"Fucking an ex-Death Eater," put in Draco. "And yet...you came back today and didn't murmur a word of this till after I'd had my wicked way with you."

"Technically, I had my wicked way with you," said Harry, smirking a little. He didn't offer a reason, however. Draco wondered for the millionth time what the Saviour of the Wizarding World and Nemesis of You-Know-Who got out of their sordid little encounters when he had the perfect wife at home, waiting for him. He put down his champagne glass and moved on top of Harry, hands either side of his head.

"Time to remedy that then," he said. Harry put down his glass and grinned up at him.

Harry picked up his glass again and sipped a little, then looked surprised. "It's still fizzy!"

Draco looked up from tracing his finger over Harry's sweaty, glistening chest. "Of course. The glasses are enchanted."

"Ah," said Harry, looking at the glass. "Is there anything in Malfoy Manor that isn't enchanted?"

"Not really," said Draco, sitting up and picking up his champagne. "Magic just makes life better."

Harry sipped his champagne again. "This champagne is really nice. Is it magical in some way?"

"Not really. My father just liked to have the best of everything." He thought for a moment. "I'll give you a couple of bottles for the baby's birth."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," said Harry, sincerely.

"Well, I'm not going to fiddle about with baby clothes or toys. And it would really piss my father off if his precious champagne went to celebrate the birth of a Potter. Besides," he added quietly, as an afterthought, "there's not likely to be much for me to celebrate in my own life."

Harry said nothing for a moment, and then spoke quickly, without looking at Draco. "You don't have to do everything just because your father would disapprove, you know."

"I don't," said Draco, softly. "Otherwise I'd have sold the Manor to a Muggle. Or even burnt it to the ground. That would have killed him." It would kill me, too, he added silently. Sometimes he felt his similarity to his father too keenly.

There was another silence, this more comfortable. Draco felt his eyes close and began to drift off into sleep. He was disturbed by Harry carefully getting up and beginning to pull his clothes on.

"Wife expecting you home?"

Harry looked up. "I thought you'd gone to sleep." Draco continued to look at him, silently.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, she asked if I could come home tonight because her family's coming early tomorrow. We're going to tell them about the baby."

Draco frowned, "What do you tell her when you stay over?"

"Just that it got a bit late, and we got a bit drunk and lost track of the time arguing about something. She never minds. I think she likes you. She's always inviting you over and it was her idea that I come here today."

"Really?" said Draco. He'd never really paid Ginny much attention, not even when they'd been fighting in the same squad together. She'd been just another goody goody Gryffindor, earnestly holding on to her ideals while the world she was fighting for disappeared in the foulness of war. He hadn't noticed Harry treat her much differently, either, which is why the announcement of their engagement had caught him so off guard.

"Yeah, she said that having a baby was no reason to loose contact with my bachelor friends." Harry grinned and Draco felt himself smiling back. Bachelor was not a word he'd use to describe himself; recluse, outcast, maybe even hermit, but not bachelor. That was a word for normal people, whose lives hadn't fallen apart in the mess of war and who hadn't had to betray everything that they'd held dear.

Harry turned away to put on his robe.

"So," said Draco, softly, "are you going to let this baby cause you to loose contact with your bachelor friends?"

Harry stood still for a moment, his back to Draco. Draco watched him carefully. They both knew what Draco was really asking.

"No," said Harry eventually and Draco felt a rush of relief crash through him. Harry didn't offer any further explanation and Draco was happy to let it go. It was easier for both of them when they didn't talk about the whys behind Harry's visits. They skirted round the issue, and joked about it, but they carefully avoided talking about why they'd started sneaking off for those few desperate moments during the War, or why that had continued after they'd won and even after Harry's marriage. When Harry had first got engaged and again when he'd married Ginny, he'd stopped coming to see Draco for a while but both times he turned up again within a couple of weeks. It seemed that not even the beginnings of the family he'd always wanted could keep him from his guilty little secret.

Harry left without another word, glancing at Draco as he went with shuttered eyes. Draco relaxed and turned the light off. So, Ginny was having a baby. He felt inexplicably jealous but also relieved that even this wouldn't stop Harry's visits. Draco had shut himself off from the world pretty effectively and if Harry had stopped visiting, he'd probably have gone a little crazy. Well, he was already a little crazy – he never left Malfoy Manor now, preferring to shut himself off from the world rather than brave the stares of hatred and fear. Most wizards were still stuck in the blinkered, black and white view of the world from the War and Draco, the son of Voldemort's Lieutenant, marked as a Death Eater and the cause of Dumbledore's death fell clearly into the category of evil. The fact that he'd betrayed his family and many of his friends to fight with the Order was irrelevant. It was much easier to hate him than try to understand.

But a baby...babies were hard work. And, one baby would probably lead to another and another – Ginny was a Weasley, after all. Harry would find it harder to slip away to visit Draco as the years went by and as his house filled up with children's games and laughter, Draco's drafty mansion and strange way of life would seem so alien to him. Or worse, it would feel like a relic of a past Harry had put behind him, a relic of when every day was a fight for survival, and those around you could be gone in the blink of an eye. The thought of this inevitability, of Harry's withdrawal from his life, caused Draco more pain than he'd been expecting. It seemed to go beyond the fear of being alone with just his dark thoughts and the emptiness of the manor. He put off analysing it, and tried to get some sleep. He always slept better after Harry's visits and it had been a while now since his last nightmare-free night.

3

"Ginny wants to call it Molly if it's a girl and Ron if it's a boy, but I'm not sure. It seems a little morbid. There were so many dead and injured...how can we just single out one? And how can we burden a baby with that kind of legacy?"

Draco nodded. "How is Ron?" he asked, then instantly regretted it.

Harry sighed. "No change." Ron had been captured towards the end of the war. No one knew what had happened to him, only that he hadn't cracked under torture, safe guarding the Order's secrets so that the final battle included several unpleasant surprises for the Death Eaters, some of which contributed to their final downfall. Ron had known all these plans and said nothing - a feat which had surprised Draco. He hadn't thought he'd had it in him. However, when he was rescued, Ron had become completely withdrawn into himself. Two years later, he still hadn't uttered a word, or shown any sign that he knew what was happening around him. Hermione Granger had been looking after him – they had been engaged before his capture, intending to marry after the War. Draco had seen him in St. Mungo's after the last battle, when almost everyone had been in there for some injury or another. His blank, staring eyes and slack expression had given Draco the creeps. He couldn't imagine how Granger put up with seeing that every day, especially from someone she had loved.

"This is my point," said Harry. "You say the name Ron or Molly or Charlie or even Luna, and all people can think about is death and the War. We should use a new name. Something that speaks of hope and a new beginning. I was thinking Aurora for a girl."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, that's a good one. Any ideas for a boy?"

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "No, not yet. Ginny's being pretty stubborn about it."

Draco said nothing. It was nothing to him if the Potters were having marital difficulties, he told himself sternly. He was unable to completely suppress the thread of happiness that ran through him at the thought, however.

"Ok, enough about my boring domestic stuff," said Harry. "Is it ok if I stay here tonight? I told Ginny I probably would."

A tide of happiness spread throughout Draco.

"That's fine," he said, trying to cover his reaction, "so long as you don't snore."

"Snore!" said Harry, in mock indignation. "I don't snore!"

"Ha!" retorted Draco. "Try telling that to someone who didn't sleep next to you for a year."

"Ginny say I don't snore now. That was just a...War thing," said Harry.

"Ginny's married to you, and therefore honour-bound to lie to you to keep you happy. I, on the other hand, am your friend and honour-bound to tell you the truth. You snored then and you snore now."

Harry humphed and crossed his arms, but Draco could see the smile playing around the edge of his mouth.

"Well...you suck your thumb," he said childishly in counterattack.

"No, I don't," said Draco, not rising to the bait.

"No, you don't," agreed Harry, uncrossing his arms and setting aside his mask of pique suddenly, "but you do sleep with your hands in little fists. Like a baby."

Draco gaped. He had no idea Harry had paid that much attention to how he slept. It made him feel warm, but he wasn't about to show that. "Like a baby? It's so I'm all ready to punch someone if they wake me up!"

Harry laughed. "If you say so. At least snoring is manly."

Now it was Draco's turn to cross his arms and pout, "I'm always manly. In everything I do. Including and especially sleeping."

Harry laughed again. "Ok, you manly stud, I'm going to sleep. Try not to punch me in the night."

"Only if you keep your awful snoring to a minimum," said Draco, huffily.

Harry turned out the light with a quiet "Nox" and took his glasses off.

Draco noticed the movement and smiled. For almost a year during the War, Harry had slept with his glasses on after a night attack when he had been caught unprepared without them and had missed the opportunity to kill Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry looked very different with his glasses off; softer and more vulnerable. Draco didn't get many opportunities to see him like that. He liked it.

It was twenty minutes later before Draco realised he was watching Harry sleep in the worst, romance novel, clichéd manner. He turned over, and tried to get the image of Harry out of his mind. 'Come on,' he tried to convince himself, 'this is just a sex thing. No need to moon over him.' The truth was, as he was beginning to realise, this was just a sex thing for Harry – a chance to try out some things that Ginny would consider depraved, and a chance to indulge his taste in men - but for Draco it was rapidly becoming something more than that. 'He's married, he's going to have a kid, he's married, he's going to have a kid,' he chanted in his mind, trying to get his feelings back into order. It didn't seem to be working and he cursed himself and his weakness as he drifted off to sleep.

4

Harry was still crying. He'd erupted into the Manor, catching Draco off guard. He'd dragged him upstairs and the sex had been passionate and angry. Then he'd burst into tears. That had been 30 minutes ago, and Draco was beginning to get really worried. He patted Harry's shoulder nervously. The crying lessened a little bit. Draco took the opportunity to ask the question he'd been waiting to ask since Harry arrived.

"Harry, what's up? What's happened?"

Harry swallowed his next sob with difficulty. "It's Ginny...it's the baby. We lost it." He renewed his tears with more force and Draco patted his shoulder again. Damn. He had no idea what to do now. He'd never had much experience with comforting people. He wondered why Harry had come to the Manor and not to someone who'd be better at helping him – Hermione or someone. Or even Ginny. Why wasn't Harry with his wife? Draco pushed these questions aside and patted Harry again.

"I'm sorry," he said. Then silently cursed himself. That was completely the wrong thing to say. Suddenly, Harry grabbed him in a bear hug, and continued to cry loudly. Draco tentatively put his arms round him. He wasn't sure what else to do or say. He really should be saying something but he had no idea what. All that came to mind was 'It'll be ok,' but that was awful – it clearly wasn't going to be ok. Draco gave up trying to think of something to say and just held Harry for a while. His crying eventually began to slow down and tail off. Draco kept silently holding him, hoping that Harry would say something and save Draco from having to come up with something to say that wasn't trite, clichéd or stupid.

"Thanks," said Harry, his voice muffled by Draco's shoulder, which was now quite damp.

"That's ok," said Draco, stroking his hair softly.

Harry moved carefully out of Draco's arms. "I needed that," he said.

Draco tried to think of something to say.

Harry looked around at their scattered clothes. "I suppose I should go. Ginny...Ginny will be wondering where I am." He got up and slowly got dressed. Draco watched him from the bed.

Before he left, Harry pulled Draco into another hug. "I...thanks for letting me do that. I'll see you soon." Then he left.

Draco didn't know what to do or think. He wondered if the correct etiquette was to send a bereavement card or not. His mother would have known. He tried very hard to pretend that he wasn't a tiny bit pleased that Ginny had one less hold over Harry and merely succeeded in feeling guilty about it.

5

There had been no mention of Harry's last visit. Harry had been trying to behave exactly as normal, but Draco could see the ghost of sadness in his eyes that he recognised so well from the War, when news of another person missing or dead seemed to come almost every week and Harry had known most of them. They'd been in a perpetual state of mourning for too long, and now, when things were meant to be back to normal, it seemed the cycle was still going. Even the promise of new life couldn't prevent the old shadow of death casting its spell over their lives.

Harry hadn't stopped talking since he'd arrived, as if he was worried that if he stopped talking about nothing, something more painful and important would slip out. Even when they'd been having sex, he'd filled the room with dialogue.

At this moment, he was enthusiastically demonstrating the Cannons' Seeker's winning catch from the game which he'd seen on Saturday. He and Hermione had taken Ron, hoping that seeing his old team would arouse some recognition in him. Harry and Hermione had been taking Ron to things pretty regularly for that reason, and now Draco thought that if any change did happen, they'd be flabbergasted.

Harry had continued to support the Cannons after they were reformed after the War, in memory of Ron. They were now captained by Oliver Wood, because many of the more experienced professional Quidditch players had been killed or wounded during the War. In fact, Draco was one of the few people who knew that Harry had been approached for Seeker and had turned it down. He'd not really said why, but Draco could guess. After the hellish years of the War, when Harry was always on the front line, indeed he often was the front line, he was done with excitement and pressure on the scale that would be required to be a professional Quidditch player. He was much happier taking a back seat for once. However, if Ginny or any of the other Weasleys had found out, they'd probably have pressured him in to doing it. They were all for propagating the myth of Harry Potter as fairytale prince, especially after his defeat of You-Know-Who. In addition to winning the girl, becoming a Seeker – widely assumed to be his dream job - would have made his story complete.

"Then, he went in to a Wronski Feint – or, rather, everyone thought he had, including the other Seeker, but it was a real dive and he came up holding the snitch! You should have seen the other Seeker's face!"

Harry jumped on to the end of the bed, still holding his hand up, clasping an imaginary snitch.

"It was brilliant!"

Draco saw the slightly manic look in Harry's eye and knew that this bouncy, upbeat version of Harry was merely a show.

"Sounds great," said Draco, smiling at Harry. "Wish I could have been there." And, for a moment he really did, until he remembered that although vacant, vegetative Ron was accepted in public (after all, he was a war hero), a Malfoy would be made to feel unwelcome in every way possible.

"Yeah," said Harry, bouncing slightly. "You should come next time."

Draco put his hand over Harry's on the bed, "How are you?" he asked, carefully. He didn't want to pry, but sometimes it took a little prodding to get Harry to drop his barriers and show what he was really feeling. This turned out to be the case on this occasion. Harry's face changed from joyful-but-manic to serious-but-sincere.

"I'm ok," he said, looking at the wall. "I just...Ginny's taking it hard. She was angry I went to the game. I think she thought I should have been at home, upset like her but...I've spent too long being miserable everyday. I want to go out and live." He paused. Draco squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Harry's voice grew quieter, "And...I feel I can't really mourn our baby because...it was my fault it died." There was a moment of silence. Draco wondered what was coming next with a slight feeling of unease.

"We had an argument that night, which started with baby names and ended with her accusing me of not mourning the dead, or, of being dead inside or something. And then...I realised I didn't want the baby at all. I want kids. I've always wanted kids, a proper family but...I don't want Ginny's kids. I don't want to have Weasleys and with Ginny and her family that's what they'd be. I want Potters, I want them to be my family. I know it seems selfish but...I've never had a family, not a proper one that was truly mine. I didn't say anything, but Ginny was angry with me. Sometimes I think she must know that I've never loved her."

Draco jerked back a little in surprise.

Harry noticed. "Didn't you know?"

"I...suspected, but I didn't know you knew it," said Draco.

"Oh yes, I knew," said Harry, bitterly. "I married her anyway. Some hero, huh?"

Draco just looked at him.

"I had to," said Harry miserably. "It was what everyone wanted."

"Except you." said Draco, quietly. 'And me,' he added in his head.

Harry shrugged that away. "Ron told me several times during the War that it was what he wanted. When we both survived it seemed like a sign. I felt I owed it to him. If I'd rescued him sooner...And then there was the state of the Wizarding World. Everyone was so depressed. It seemed like all there was to do was to go to funerals, and memorials and visit people in hospital who might never leave...The wedding changed that. It made people hopeful again."

Draco remembered. Everyone had been so excited suddenly; it felt like a new start to a new world. It had been the event of the year and everyone went. Everyone dressed to the nines and Ginny beaming and...Draco had left before the ceremony started. Everyone had been staring at him. Some old witch had spat at him. That had been the last time he'd left Malfoy Manor. After that, he'd stayed in and refused invitations, and most callers.

"So I married her and then she was pregnant and then we had that stupid fight and it all just came to me at once. I'm living a life I don't want and I can't escape from this stupid 'Hero' label. And then I went for a walk and when I came back...she'd been rushed to St. Mungo's and the baby was gone. I'd rejected it and it went."

Harry bowed his head and Draco saw a tear escape. He tentatively reached up and stroked Harry's hair.

"Harry, you can't sacrifice your happiness for other people. You shouldn't let them push you in to living a life you don't want."

Harry laughed harshly. "Oh Draco, I have to. I can't let them down now. I'm in too deep."

"No, you're not. You should do what you want, make yourself happy."

Harry looked at Draco. "I can't leave Ginny after she's had a miscarriage! That would be unforgivable."

"Surely it's more unforgivable to keep her trapped in a marriage that's going nowhere!" said Draco, perhaps a little hotly.

"That's not true. I can make her happy. I owe it to her," Harry retorted, pulling away from Draco's hand.

"You owe yourself happiness as well!" said Draco.

Harry stood up. "It's so easy for you, isn't it? You don't have to worry about anyone but yourself – you can just hole up in this bloody ghost house and ignore the rest of the world! It's not so easy for me. I have responsibilities!"

"You have responsibilities to yourself as well as others," said Draco, beginning to get riled up. "You made too many sacrifices during the War – we all did. Now is the time to get yourself some happiness, to build yourself the life we all missed out on!"

Harry laughed. "And this is the life you've built? Haunting your ancestral home, ignoring the insults from the portraits...You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"At least I'm only making myself miserable! You're ruining Ginny's chance of real happiness as well as your own, you need to start being Harry, rather than The-Boy-Who-Lived or the Nemesis-Of-You-Know-Who or whatever they're calling you this week."

"I don't have to listen to this!" said Harry, angrily. "You're wasting your life, mouldering like a forgotten house elf and I'm trying to make people happy! You've never succeeded in making either yourself or anybody else happy!" Harry gathered up his clothes and vanished.

Draco fell back on the bed. Harry's last comment had hit home because it was all too true. In fact, most of what Harry had said was true. He was living half a life here, too scared of leaving the Manor to do anything worthwhile. The people he'd cared most about were also the ones he'd betrayed completely – his parents. He'd stayed deliberately aloof from most of the Order during the War and then, when it was over, cut himself off from them completely. The only person that he cared about now was Harry and his role in his life only served to complicate it. If he had Harry's best interests at heart, he wouldn't still be sleeping with him. He got up, strode across the room, grabbed a vase from the table and threw it at the wall. It smashed with a satisfying noise and Draco moved on to the glasses he and Harry had been using. A house elf appeared and began to carefully clear up the broken glass. Draco resisted the urge to kick it and left the room. He couldn't bear to look at the bed where he and Harry had been together so recently. He went on a prowl, looking for something of his father's to break. After many other nights of the same activity, however, there was little left. Draco instead went to the Library, lit a large fire and burnt some family portraits. The screams and curses of the portraits first made him feel better and then made him feel sick. He drank a large amount of Fire Whiskey and went to bed.

6

When he woke up, Harry was sitting silently by the bed, watching him. Draco saw him and tried to sit up before sinking back with a groan as his hangover kicked in. Harry silently handed him a Hangover B Gone Potion, which Draco downed. He sat up slightly more gingerly and looked at Harry, who just looked back. There was something in Harry's eyes, something resolute that worried Draco slightly.

After a while longer of just looking at Draco as if he was searching for something, Harry said, "I didn't mean to tell you all that stuff last night. I never meant to tell anyone."

Draco said nothing. It seemed he was in for even more confessions this morning. As the potion began to work on his hangover, he wondered if he was going to be up to it, or if he'd mess it up like last night.

Harry continued, "But now I can see your point. Maybe I should start living."

Draco felt his left eyebrow rise at this. Harry smiled shyly at him.

"I've...I've told Ginny that I'm leaving her."

Draco let his surprise show on his face, but kept his sudden feeling of relief and pleasure inside himself.

"She didn't seem that surprised," continued Harry. "In fact, she seemed a little relieved. It may not have helped that she was in our bedroom when I Apparated in completely naked and holding my clothes. We had a big argument. Another one. We've agreed it's for the best."

Draco put his hand on Harry's and Harry smiled at him again.

"I...I was wondering if you'd mind if I stayed here for a bit."

Looking back, that's when Draco decided his pleasure officially became euphoria. Or maybe that was the Hangover B Gone Potion. He stroked Harry's hair. Harry had fallen asleep with his head in Draco's lap, and Draco was happy to let him stay there.

7

"Well," said Harry, looking through the papers that Hedwig had delivered to him, "it's official. I'm divorced."

Draco, who was still half asleep despite their early morning activities, cuddled up to Harry's leg and smiled. "That's nice. Let me go back to sleep."

"No," said Harry, decisively, "I'm free now; I can be my own person, like you told me to be."

"Good," said Draco, his eyes shut. "Be your own person quietly."

"No," repeated Harry, "it's your turn."

Draco opened his eyes warily. "My turn to get divorced?"

"No, your turn to start living life," explained Harry. "Today, you're leaving the Manor."

Draco almost involuntarily pulled the covers around him. "No, I'm fine here."

Harry smiled in a slightly worrying manner. "Today, we're going to lunch at Hermione's. "

Draco gave a whimper and burrowed under the covers. Harry cruelly pulled the covers off him and threw them on the floor. "She's expecting us. It'd be rude not to go."

"I'm a Malfoy. I'm allowed to be rude. Granger would be disappointed if I wasn't," said Draco, trying to get past Harry to the covers.

"Funny, I remember your mother saying something about a Malfoy always being courteous," said Harry. He got up and threw a towel at Draco. "Have a shower, put some clothes on and prepare to become a new man."

Draco pouted at Harry. "You're mean. Next time you're trapped in a loveless marriage, I'm going to leave you there."

Harry pulled Draco out of bed and in to his arms. "When I'm with you, I'm never loveless," he said.

Draco frowned slightly. It was too early to work that kind of statement out.

Harry took pity on him. "I'm saying…I love you."

Draco felt something inside himself shatter and beamed at Harry. "For that, I will go to Hermione's," he announced.

Harry smiled back and kissed him softly.

"You know," said Draco, "you need a shower too. We could save water and have one together?"

Harry grinned at him. "That seems like a fantastic idea."