Title: Reply All

Author: Dark Phoenix

Summary: Harry couldn't be happier when Draco wants to learn how to email. But maybe he should've paid more attention to his own instructions.

Pairings: Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione

Warning: Suggestive emails? This one is pretty tame.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

Notes: Set in the early 2000s — Harry and co. are in their mid twenties.

~ Reply All ~

From: WhiteDragon

To: QuidditchMaster

Subject: Date night

Dear Harry,

Hey, baby, I had a great time last night. :D Don't forget our date tomorrow. I'm making dinner and dessert, and I'll even let you tie me up if you're good. ;) ;) ;)

Love, Draco

Harry grinned as he read Draco's new email. Since he'd taught Draco basic computer skills, he'd been getting emails at least once a day. It was mostly just reminders of upcoming dates and things like that, but Harry knew it was really just an excuse for Draco to connect with Harry and practice his new skills at the same time. And he couldn't help being charmed at Draco's old-fashioned habit of writing emails like letters, no matter how many times Harry had told him it wasn't necessary.

He smiled fondly and started to move the cursor up the screen to the Reply button. A sudden whooshing sound in the other room told him that someone, probably Ron, since they had plans for lunch, had just Flooed into his living room.

Harry glanced toward the doorway a bit anxiously, then hit the Reply button and began typing furiously.

From: QuidditchMaster

To: WhiteDragon

Subject: Re: Date night

I can't wait! Especially if the dessert involves licking chocolate syrup or whipped cream off your body while you're tied up. :D :D :D Luv ya,

Harry

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry half-stood, angling his head towards the open door. "That you, Ron? I'm in here," he called before sinking back down into his seat. He quickly hit the Send button before Ron could enter the room, then signed out of his email. That wasn't a message Ron needed to see, especially since Harry still hadn't quite figured out how to tell his friends he'd been seeing Draco Malfoy for over a year.

"Hey, Harry. Ready to go?" Ron appeared in the doorway of the study, and Harry jumped up.

"Yeah, I'm starved!" he said, and as they headed out the door, Harry couldn't help thinking that everything in his life was finally going just right for once, and that he wouldn't change a thing.

Harry finished off his butterbeer and set the bottle down. He and Ron had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch and were now waiting for Hermione to show up so they could do some shopping at Diagon Alley. She'd been busy at the office, as usual, and had told them to go ahead and eat without her.

The door opened, and a moment later, Hermione was hurrying towards them. Her eyes met his, and for a brief instant, she had the strangest look on her face, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"Hi, Harry," she said. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she looked as though she was about to say something else, but then turned to greet Ron instead.

Hermione sat down and ordered a butterbeer for herself, but she seemed oddly tense as she drank it, and she kept looking over at Harry.

"Everything all right, 'Mione?" he finally asked once she'd finished and they all stood up to leave.

"Of course, Harry!" she said a little too brightly. She hurried to the brick wall and began tapping it with her wand. "Why don't we go to Flourish and Blotts first? They have some new books I wanted to check out."

Ron rolled his eyes. "As if you don't have enough books already."

"I don't think Hermione will ever have enough books," Harry said with a grin, secretly pleased. Not long after he'd started dating Draco, Harry had discovered that his old rival was as much of a bookworm as Hermione, and he'd tried to "accidentally" run into him whenever he was in Diagon Alley with his friends. He was hoping to get them used to each other as much as possible before he worked up the courage to tell his friends who he was dating. It had been difficult coming up with plausible excuses for going book shopping every time, although so far, neither Ron nor Hermione had seemed suspicious of Harry's sudden interest in Flourish and Blotts.

They turned in the familiar direction of the bookstore, Harry glancing surreptitiously at his watch. He hadn't given Draco an exact time to "drop by," but he knew that Draco, with his love of books, could easily spend hours in a library or bookstore without being aware of the time passing. With an attempt at casualness, Harry made his way to the Quidditch section with Ron while Hermione pored over the new arrivals.

It wasn't long before he caught a glimpse of silvery-blond hair out of the corner of his eye, and he glanced over in time to see Draco walk directly past Hermione's line of sight. Harry was a bit surprised to see Hermione look up at Draco with a bright smile. Too bright, as though she was making a concentrated effort to appear friendly. Harry could sense the awkwardness from halfway across the shop. But Draco, who wore an overly bright smile of his own, appeared not to notice as they made what looked like exaggeratedly polite conversation. Harry watched them for a moment, then shrugged. At least they were both making the effort. He could hardly expect them to be comfortable around each other right away.

"Oi, Harry, check this out!" Harry turned to see Ron waving a large, colorfully illustrated book on the Chudley Cannons. "They must've just got this in. Guess I know what I'm getting for Christmas," Ron said.

Harry laughed as he admired the glossy, moving pictures. He'd always been more of a Falcons fan, but he wasn't about to tell Ron that.

"Look, there's Hermione talking to Malfoy," said Ron, waving in their direction and holding up the book. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as he said Malfoy, but Harry thought — or at least hoped — that there was a lot less animosity in it than there used to be. He was pleased when Ron only let out a small sigh of resignation when Draco and Hermione walked over to join them.

"Ron! Harry! Look who I just ran into!" Hermione gushed, that overly bright smile still on her face. Harry saw Ron raise an eyebrow — Merlin, even he noticed that she was acting weird.

"Um, hi, Malfoy," Harry said, feeling awkward, but figuring that it would be appropriate considering his friends didn't know they were dating. "How are you?"

"Isn't this nice?" Hermione said, beaming. Her eyes met Harry's, but for the life of him, he couldn't decipher the significant look she was giving him. "I'm so glad we're able to move past all that silly school rivalry and be civil to one another. Aren't you, Ron?" Now she had Ron trapped in her gaze, and from the helpless look he gave Harry, he didn't have any more clue what she was on about than Harry did.

"Uh, sure," Ron said agreeably. He patted Draco awkwardly on the shoulder. "Nice to see you, Malfoy."

"I know!" Hermione exclaimed. "Let's all go out for lunch!"

"But we just had lunch," said Ron, frowning over at Harry. Harry just shrugged.

"For — for a butterbeer, then," Hermione plowed on, undeterred. "I think it would be good to get to know each other better, don't you?" She led the way out of the bookstore. Harry lagged behind the group with Draco, but he distinctly heard Ron ask Hermione if she was feeling all right.

"This is awkward," Harry said under his breath.

"It's perfect," Draco whispered back. "It'll be so much easier to tell your friends about us if I'm part of the group."

Just then, Hermione turned to face them. Rather than looking surprised to see them walking close together, she smiled knowingly. "Do either of you want to go to George's? It's on the way."

"Sure, sounds good," Harry said, barely listening. Once she'd turned back around, he whispered, "Does she seem to be acting weird to you?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. She's your friend."

Harry eyed him skeptically for a moment before realizing that Draco was probably too nervous about spending time with Harry's friends to notice Hermione's odd behavior. He wanted to give Draco a reassuring pat, but his friends were just right there, so he settled for whispering, "They're not going to bite, you know."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but before he had a chance to say anything, they had arrived at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

George looked up from the counter with a smile as they entered his shop. He didn't look at all surprised to see Draco with them, but for some reason smirked knowingly at Harry when their eyes met.

"You picked a good time to visit," he said with an easy grin. "We've just expanded our line of trick sweets, and they've been selling like mad." He led the way to the candy section, where a large number of young Hogwarts-age witches and wizards appeared to be stocking up for the upcoming school year.

Harry was contemplating whether or not his boss would be fooled by Skiving Snackboxes when George leaned closer to address him and Draco. "Or, if you prefer," he murmured, "I've been working on a product line for a more . . . mature audience, if you catch my drift." Still grinning, he led them through a door marked Under 17 No Admittance to a small, dark room lined with shelves of . . . oh, dear Merlin. This was the first Harry had heard of WWW selling adult products. He didn't even want to know what all these things did.

"I'll just leave you to look around a bit, shall I?" George said, and disappeared with a wink.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, and when Harry finally opened his mouth, he saw Draco start slightly.

"Well, it looks like George knows about us," Harry said, eyeing a large box labeled The Game of Lust! Can You and Your Partner Achieve Multiple Levels of Sensuality?

Even in the dim light, Harry could see the color in Draco's cheeks as he examined a pair of enchanted handcuffs. "He seems to be okay with it," he said. "I mean—" He gestured around the room, his color deepening.

Harry frowned as he tried to find a somewhat safe direction to look. He was glad George had given them his blessing, so to speak, but how on earth had he figured out that Harry and Draco were dating? It had been awhile since Harry had seen him.

Beside him, Draco was giggling over a bottle of Enlargement Potion which claimed to be Safer than Engorgio!, yet bore the warning Consult a Healer if effects last more than four hours.

"So immature," said Harry, then immediately knocked over a box, the contents of which began moaning lustily when it hit the floor. He hurried to replace the box on its shelf, then grabbed Draco and left the room, his face hot.

"Well, that was — something," Harry said. "Now where are Ron and Hermione?"

"We're right here," Ron said right in Harry's ear, and Harry very nearly jumped out of his skin. "But where have you two been?" He eyed Harry and Draco's flushed faces with suspicion. "And what have you been doing?"

Hermione made an undignified snorting sound, and Harry had a strong sense that she was struggling not to laugh. "Oh, Ron, don't tease them. They're adults; they can do what they want." She gave Harry and Draco a knowing look, and Harry frowned, sensing a disturbing pattern.

Ron pretended to gag. "I really don't want to be a part of this conversation anymore."

"Don't mind him, he'll come around," Hermione said as they followed Ron to the checkout counter. "I, for one, am happy for you." She patted Harry on the arm and smiled at both of them.

Harry and Draco hung back as Ron paid for his goodies. "Well, now I know how George figured it out," Harry said under his breath. "But how did Hermione — oh, never mind, it's Hermione."

"Hermione Granger does not know everything," Draco hissed back.

"You picked a hell of a time to argue that point."

Draco folded his arms and glared at him. "She doesn't. You just have no subtlety."

Harry tried to glare back, but it was hard when he knew Draco was right. "Whatever. The point is, she knows about us, and so does George. And if she told him, then who knows how many other people she's told?"

"Are you two ready to go?"

Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione waiting for them. Ron was eyeing them suspiciously, and Harry wondered if Hermione had said anything to him in the few minutes he'd been standing in line.

Well, I did want to tell them at some point, he thought as they left George's shop. He hadn't counted on Hermione just guessing like that, especially not so suddenly. But if it saved him that awkward explanation, maybe it would all turn out for the best.

With all the awkwardness of Hermione discovering his secret relationship, Harry was looking forward to going back to his flat and not having to deal with other people for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

At Hermione's insistence, they headed to the nearest pub for a butterbeer. Harry tried not to make eye contact with anybody, but he and his friends tended to attract attention wherever they went, and having Draco with them only made it worse. He hurried to an empty table in a relatively quiet corner, doing his best to ignore the gawkers.

"What's wrong, Potter? I thought you liked signing autographs," Draco said, smiling at him and looking at ease for the first time all day.

Harry made a rude hand gesture, and everyone laughed. Well, at least they've found something they can all agree on, he thought with resignation.

"I'm so glad my discomfort brings you all so much joy," he started to say before he was interrupted by Hermione.

"Oh, look, Neville's here!" she said, waving in the direction of the door. "Neville! Why don't you come sit with us?"

A surprised-looking Neville hurried over to their table, blinked several times when he saw Draco sitting with them, then took a seat next to Hermione. His eyes flitted briefly between Harry and Draco, who had ended up next to one another, then quickly looked away, his mouth twitching at the corners as though trying to hold back a smile. Harry felt an unsettling sense of familiarity at the sight.

"Hi, Harry," said Neville. "What's new?" He turned back to face Harry, who didn't think he was imagining the twinkle in Neville's eyes.

"Same old, same old."

Neville grinned and sipped his butterbeer. "How about you, Malfoy? It's been a long time."

Harry watched Neville with interest as Draco started telling him about his career as a Healer at St. Mungo's. Neville looked a bit wary, no doubt because of the way Draco had treated him at Hogwarts, but Harry was pleasantly surprised at how civil all his friends were being. Maybe he shouldn't have waited so long to tell them.

"And what about you? What are you doing these days?" Draco asked politely, and Hermione beamed approvingly at both of them. Harry had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Had she been expecting Draco to challenge Neville to a duel in the middle of Diagon Alley? Harry never would've started dating him if he'd been the same insufferable little prick they'd known as kids. Draco had grown up, and so had he.

Still, Harry couldn't help feeling rather proud as Draco and Neville began chatting animatedly about Herbology and various types of plants often used in healing potions. He'd always wanted his friends to get along with Draco, but had never expected it to be this easy. Everyone seemed to be on their best behavior, even Ron.

Ron, for that matter, was currently watching Neville and Draco with a bemused expression on his face. "Never thought I'd see the day," he said before taking a swig of his butterbeer.

Harry gave what he hoped was a noncommittal shrug. "Well, none of us are the same people we were at Hogwarts," he said.

"That's right!" Hermione agreed, a bit too enthusiastically. "Just goes to show you that anyone can change if they really want to."

Ron rolled his eyes, and Harry knew he was thinking they were both mental. Harry, for his part, was just relieved that everything was going so well. Maybe he hadn't given his friends enough credit, he mused.

Draco and Neville paused briefly at Hermione's outburst, then resumed their conversation. Harry was pleased that everything was going so well, but all the same, he was starting to wish his friends would find something else to talk about.

"So, Hermione," he said, settling back in his seat. "How's that whole house-elf rights legislation going?"

Ron gave him a look of mock betrayal as Hermione launched what he knew would be a long, detailed description of the new laws she was trying to pass, and Harry smiled at him sympathetically. But as he half-listened to his friend with a polite smile, he truly felt as though everyone could get past this initial awkwardness and maybe even become friends someday.

By the time they left the pub, Harry was feeling pretty good about how well everyone was getting along. And he was getting hungry for something more substantial than butterbeer and pub snacks. He said goodbye to Draco and Neville and was about to Apparate home when Ron said, "Leaving already? But we haven't even had dinner yet."

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had dinner with his friends. They'd gotten a flat of their own, and he'd wanted to give them their space. "I don't want to intrude . . . " he started.

"Don't be silly. You're not intruding," said Hermione. "We were going to the Burrow tonight anyway, and Molly's been after us to invite you over. She's worried you're getting too thin lately."

Harry had to admit defeat. Dinner at the Burrow sounded infinitely more appealing than anything he could throw together in his own kitchen. Draco had made plans with his friends, so Harry had been expecting a rather dull evening.

"I have been missing her cooking," he said with a grin, and they all turned on the spot.

The Burrow looked just the same as the last time Harry had seen it. Warm, inviting smells wafted from the kitchen, and cheerful whistling came from the barn, where Harry could see Arthur's head through the window, bent over his work. He raised his head and waved at the trio as they passed. Harry waved back, and Ron snorted.

"Dad's hardly left his workshop since he got that computer to work," Ron said at Harry's curious glance. "He's been driving Mum up the wall."

As if to prove his point, the kitchen door opened and Molly could be heard shouting something about garden gnomes. Both Ron and Harry turned towards the barn, while Hermione rolled her eyes and continued to the house.

"Hello, Harry!" Arthur greeted him as they entered the barn. "Good to see you. It's been awhile."

"Ron says you've been busy with your computer," said Harry, curiously stepping closer. The computer looked perfectly ordinary, but he was sure it had been enchanted in some way, knowing Arthur.

"Oh, yeah," Arthur said eagerly. "Have you heard of this MySpace? I'm friends with Ron and George, but the others still don't have their own computers."

Harry laughed. "I'll be sure to add you later."

"I don't really understand the point of MySpace when we can just email each other," said Ron.

"Just look at all the fun things you can do," Arthur enthused. "It's remarkable what Muggles have come up with these days . . . Look, here's a quiz that tells you what kind of sandwich you are. Oh, and here you can see what your friends are up to . . . "

Harry and Ron poked around the barn while Arthur clicked away on his computer. "I should check my email while I'm at it," he said to himself while Harry examined a bizarre electrical contraption he couldn't identify.

"Oh, here's something from you, Harry!" said Arthur, and Harry looked up in surprise. He couldn't remember having sent Arthur an email lately.

Ignoring Ron's quizzical look, Harry approached the computer desk, where Arthur was squinting at the screen through his glasses. "Oh! Well, that's . . . " Arthur turned to Harry with the strangest expression on his face. It almost looked like he was struggling not to laugh. "Harry, I'm not sure this email was meant for me. Perhaps you sent it by mistake?"

With a sinking feeling, Harry leaned closer to read the email. For some reason, it was also addressed to Draco and a number of other people. Harry couldn't imagine what he might've sent to Draco and any of the Weasleys.

Subject: Re: Date night, he read,

I can't wait! Especially if the dessert involves licking—

Oh, no. Oh, no. Panic rose in him as he remembered the email he'd sent to Draco earlier. He'd been in such a hurry — but how had he accidentally sent it to Arthur, of all people? Harry read the email again, more carefully. Had he sent it to everyone on his friends list? He was dimly aware of Ron beside him, staring curiously at the screen.

"Harry?" Now Ron was looking at him, disgust and confusion evident in his face.

"I . . . " Harry swallowed. He was sure his face was the color of Ron's hair. "I — um, yeah. A mistake." He was only half aware of what he was saying, his mind busy trying to figure out how he'd managed to send an email to all his friends without realizing it. Ron had come over just as he'd been sending his reply to Draco, he remembered. But, how — Had he hit reply all instead of reply?

I sent that to everyone on my friends list, he suddenly thought with horror. No wonder George and Hermione knew. With a queasy feeling, he tried to remember who else was on his friends list — who else might've seen it.

"Harry?" Ron was beginning to look a little worried.

Harry turned to face him. What was it Arthur had said? It had barely been a minute ago. "Yeah," he said again. "I must've sent it by mistake." He tried to smile for Ron's benefit, but suspected he just looked as ill as he felt.

"Well, no harm done," Arthur said. He cleared his throat and straightened his face, though there was still an amused twinkle in his eye. "Now, why don't we go see what Molly's got waiting for us?"

"Right," Harry said numbly. He'd completely forgotten about dinner in his panic. The three of them left the barn and headed for the house.

Harry was just about to walk through the door when a thought occurred to him.

"Ron?" he said. "If you see an email from me later, just delete it, all right?"

And the sound of Ron's laughter followed him into the Weasleys' kitchen.

Well, that's that, thought Harry as he stepped through the Floo into his own living room later that night. I can never look any of my friends in the face again.

The rest of the evening had gone exactly as Harry would've expected, with much ribbing from his friends. George had stopped by as well, and the three of them had all had a fine time at his expense. Harry was just glad that no one else had shown up — knowing his friends had seen that email was mortifying enough without them explaining it to the ones who didn't have computers. He was just glad that Molly hadn't seen it. Even the thought of that made him groan out loud.

"What's wrong?"

Harry jumped a mile. He'd been so caught up in his morose thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Draco was in the room.

"Oh, uh, nothing," he said. How could he tell Draco about what had happened? Draco would be mortified — and he'd never forgive Harry.

Draco sighed, long and loud. "You really are the worst liar in the world," he said. "Out with it already. What did you do?"

"It's really nothing," Harry insisted. How many of Draco's friends even had computers? It wasn't like any of them would ever know. "Don't worry about it."

"That bad, huh?" Draco stood up, scrutinizing Harry in that way he had that always gave Harry an insane urge to confess everything he'd ever done wrong — and even things he hadn't.

"It's noth—"

"Just how long do you want to sleep on the couch?" Now Draco was looking annoyed. "Say 'it's nothing' again. Maybe we'll set a record."

"Oh, fine!" Running an agitated hand through his hair, Harry flopped down on the couch and told Draco the whole story. "So now everyone knows about us," he finished.

A long silence followed Harry's confession. When he dared to look up again, he could see Draco's face working, making a concentrated effort to appear calm.

"I am so sorry, Draco. It really was an accident," said Harry. "But look at it this way, we've been wanting to tell my friends about us, haven't we? And now—"

An odd sound burst from Draco, and he covered his face with his hands. Harry watched in alarm as his shoulders began to shake, accompanied by soft, whimpery sounds. Was he crying? Harry knew he'd had a rough time over the years, but—

"BAAAAAHAHAHAHA!" Draco doubled over, clutching his middle and howling with laughter. He reached up to wipe away tears, but Harry was no longer feeling concerned. He crossed his arms and glared until Draco's laughter subsided.

"Oh, that's — I can't believe you — and you thought—" Draco cleared his throat and took a moment to compose himself. "Thank you, Harry. That's the funniest thing I've heard all year." He wiped his eyes again, still sniggering a bit.

"Well, I'm glad that everyone thinks this is such a great joke," Harry said frostily. "Aren't you at least a little bit embarrassed, knowing all our friends have seen that message?"

"All your friends," Draco returned. "I don't know anyone who has a computer. Except for Mother." He paused, a strange expression crossing his face, then shrugged. "Well, I'm going to bed. All that laughing wore me out."

"I should make you sleep on the couch," Harry grumbled, but now he had a new worry. Had Narcissa seen that email? Oh, this was getting worse by the minute.

Harry stood up and headed for the study, trying to steel his nerves. Best to get this over with, he thought. Maybe, with any luck, none of his friends had checked their messages that day.

With trembling hands, Harry signed into his email. There did seem to be quite a number of new emails, from just about everyone on his friends list, most dating from sometime that afternoon. His heart sank as he realized one was indeed from Narcissa, and as he opened it, he was reminded of Draco proudly telling him he'd been teaching her to email as well and insisting Harry add her as a friend.

Dear Mr. Potter, he read,

While I am quite pleased about the ongoing relationship between you and my son, in the future, I would appreciate it if you kept the details of your love life strictly between the two of you.

Narcissa Malfoy

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He was never going to live this down.

The next morning, Harry headed downstairs with trepidation. Passing through the study, he couldn't help scowling at his laptop. He had no intention of touching that blasted thing if he could avoid it. After frantically sending out "Please disregard last message!" emails to everyone on his friends list the night before, all he wanted to do was hide from the world. At least until work the next day, and he thanked Merlin that none of his work buddies had computers.

"Good morning!" Draco sang out as he passed Harry on his way into the study. Harry scowled at him, too. He could at least pretend to be embarrassed about this, for Harry's sake, rather than struggling not to laugh like he'd been doing since they'd gone to bed the night before.

As Harry watched, Draco opened up his own laptop and started typing away. After a moment, he looked up at Harry with a big smile on his face. "So, explain this to me one more time, Harry," he said.

Here it comes, Harry thought with a sigh.

"When I'm replying to someone, which button do I click again? Is it 'reply'?" He paused for effect, turning to face Harry with a look of pure innocence. Harry's hands clenched around a nearby decorative pillow.

"Or is it . . . " Draco actually had to stop to compose himself. The second he opened his mouth again, Harry let the pillow fly. It hit Draco's smirking face at almost the exact moment he said the words, " . . . reply all?"

~ fin ~

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing!