Zach ends up staying for the weekend. He sleeps in Pansy's room which she vacates in favor of staying in Ron's bed. Zach claims he has to stay because he needs someone to drive him back to the Manor, but Draco knows it is because he wants to go in the pool. He gets his wish when Viktor announces a pool party on Saturday morning.

"Not until this evening," Harry says. "Hermione's coming 'round to vaccinate us all this afternoon."

"Do I have to?" Pansy asks, pouting.

"Do you want to continue staying here?" Harry counters. Pansy rolls her eyes but doesn't protest.

"You should count yourself lucky," Zach says. "Most people aren't getting them for at least another week."

"Have you had yours?" Harry asks. Zach shakes his head. "I'll tell her to bring one for you."

"Wicked." He shovels cereal into his mouth. Winky had been excited that someone had finally wanted breakfast, only to be disappointed that Zach had only wanted cereal.

"Does this mean we'll be able to use magic soon?" Neville asks. "Without the protective suits, I mean."

"Yes," Zach says. "In about two weeks. And you'll be able to go outside again too, though you all seem very cozy here."

"Oh no. Does this mean I'll have to go into the office again?" Ron asks. Draco's not sure who the question is directed towards.

"Probably," Percy says. He doesn't sound as excited as Draco would have thought he would be.

"Ooh, maybe they'll restart the quidditch season," Oliver says, excitement bright in his eyes. "Puddlemere were only five points off of first when the season came to stop." Percy reaches out and rubs Oliver's back fondly.

"I'll be sure to clear my schedule," he says.

"You'll come to the games?" Oliver sounds surprised.

"Did I ever miss a game at Hogwarts?"

"Fair point."

"I love quidditch," Percy says. "And I love you," he adds more quietly.

"Speaking of quidditch," Viktor says. "We never had our game on Thursday." Oliver's eyes dart around the table and Draco knows with certainty that he's counting the number of people there.

"We could do five a side," he says. Draco flicks his eyes over to Pansy, but she's nodding along. Clearly she doesn't want to be the one to let down Viktor Krum.

"I suppose I could play Chaser," Draco says.

"I thought you were a Seeker," Viktor says. "Harry had mentioned having a Seeker's Game with you."

"I was, but I'm not sure I want to go up against the youngest seeker in a century again. Even if he is going to be my husband." He flushes red as he says it but turns to look at Harry with a small smile on his face. "I'd much rather see how he fares against an international quidditch star."

"No pressure," Harry says with a laugh, elbowing Draco gently in the ribs.

"I believe in you." Draco leans in and kisses Harry gently on the cheek. Things still feel a little stilted between them. Harry seems to be holding Draco at a bit of a distance, and Draco can hardly blame him. He had left, after all. It's only natural Harry would be worried he would do it again. He'll just have to reassure him every day, with both words and actions, that he's not going anywhere.

After their sticky, champagne covered love making, he'd spent the entire night with his arms wrapped around Harry, scared to let him go. He knows that they have forever now, but it still feels fragile.

"You'd better be on my team," Harry says.

"What if I want him on my team?" Viktor asks.

"You definitely do," Pansy says. "Draco's a better Chaser than he ever was Seeker."

"That hurts," Draco says.

"But you were a good Seeker. It's a compliment," Pansy protests, though there's mischief in her eyes.

"I propose," Percy says, cutting into the conversation. "That our two Keepers act as Team Captains and pick sides." There's a murmuration of agreement, then Oliver says,

"I pick Harry."

"I take Viktor," Ron says.

"Draco."

"Zach."

And so forth.

Draco decides that he likes playing quidditch with Harry much more than he ever did against him. And it doesn't surprise him in the least when Harry beats Viktor to the snitch.

…

Afterwards, Draco sits with Harry in the sitting room. Or, more accurately, Draco sits and Harry lays with his head in Draco's lap. Draco idly plays with Harry's hair.

"I'm glad you came back," Harry says. "I was so scared to lose you." Draco is about to protest that he's not that important, but then he realizes that he is. They're getting married. They're serious. They're endgame.

"I'm never leaving you again," Draco says. Harry smiles up at him. "Perhaps occasionally for work." Harry chuckles.

"Good," he says. "One of us needs a job, after all."

"You have nothing left in the Potter vaults?" Draco asks. He traces a finger down Harry's cheek.

"Marrying me for my money, Malfoy?"

"Obviously," Draco drawls. "I come from abject poverty. Our Manor only has twenty bedrooms. It's such a travesty." Harry presses his lips together in a clear attempt not to laugh. It's perhaps a good thing neither of the Weasleys are in the sitting room. Ron's only just starting to warm to Draco.

"You're ridiculous," Harry says. Draco wants to lean down to kiss him, but he can't reach Harry's face at this angle, so he contents himself with pulling one of Harry's hands up to his face and kissing the back of it.

"And yet, you love me."

"That I do."

They're interrupted then by the ringing of the doorbell. Harry surges upright and pulls Draco up and off of the sofa. He bounds down the stairs and Draco follows at a more sedate pace. Harry's the first one to the front door and pulls it open with such vigor that it crashes into the wall. Draco winces, but the protection charms he'd put on the wall hold. After all, they've only just re-painted.

"Hermione!" he cries, flinging his arms wide. Granger's mouth twitches in a small smile as she allows Harry to hug her. Draco's hung back, still standing on the first step of the staircase. He nods at her in greeting. He knows he needs to apologize to her, the way he had to Neville. For more than he had to apologize to Neville. He steels himself, but then she starts talking.

"Did you hear?" Granger asks, bustling into the front hall. "They're calling for Barnabas Cuffe's resignation."

"What?" Harry asks. "You mean Pansy's letter campaign worked?"

"Yes, apparently the Prophet has been flooded with complaints and Millicent Bullstrode's suing them. She took out a full page ad in the Prophet to announce it, which seems—"

"—Very Slytherin," Draco supplies. He steps off the stairs and walks towards them. He extends his hand. "Granger, it's lovely to see you again." Granger shakes his hand wearing a much warmer smile on her face than Draco might have expected.

"Draco," she says. "Lovely to see you again. Harry's told me all about your stay, of course." At this, her cheeks turn a subtle pink.

"Granger, I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart for all of the pain that I caused you during school. I was—"

"—Apology accepted."

"But I wasn't finished," Draco protests. His words fall on deaf ears, however, as Harry chooses that moment to grab Granger's hand and excitedly yell,

"We're engaged!"

"Oh, Harry, congratulations!" Granger gushes. Then she turns to Draco. "Congratulations. I'm glad you came back. Harry was most upset that you'd left." Draco feels the heat rise up his neck. He presses his lips into a straight line and nods his head once.

"I will be the first to admit that I am an idiot," he says.

"So Cuffe's getting the boot?" Harry asks, looping his arm through Granger's and steering her towards the stairs. Draco follows them up, listening as Granger details the reports she's heard.

"Apparently thousands of people are boycotting the paper," she says.

"We did," Draco says. "Which is why we don't know any of this."

"From the rumors I've heard, they're considering sending you a formal apology."

"Rightfully so," says Draco.

"I think we should do our engagement announcement in the Quibbler," Harry says. Draco stops walking for a moment before catching himself and continuing on. Right. This is his life now. He'll be forever in the public eye. He takes a deep breath and hopes that Harry hasn't noticed his hesitation. But Harry is distracted, chattering away to Granger.

For a moment he thinks about how the press are going to rake through his life with a fine toothed comb, but then he realizes that they already have. And he'd gotten through it. There's nothing there that can hurt him with any more than they already have. As depressing as that thought it, it cheers him.

He's apologized. He's repented. He's paid his dues. Maybe, just maybe, he can let himself be happy. With Harry. So yeah. Let the papers talk.

…

"Harry, you didn't tell me I needed a swimsuit," Granger hisses once all their vaccinations are done.

"I didn't think you would want to stay," he says. Draco can hear the worry in Harry's voice.

"She can borrow one of mine," Pansy says. She looks Granger up and down for a moment and then adds, "I think we're about the same size."

"You don't have—" Granger starts to protest, but Pansy waves away her concern before taking her by the arm and leading her out of the sitting room. They've barely left when Zach returns, wearing just his swimming trunks. He's out of breath but has a grin plastered on his face.

"Where is it?" he asks. "Which brick?"

"Zach, they're labeled," Draco says.

"Brill."

Harry and Draco leave Zach to fill the pool. When they come back, it's clear that Zach has used all the taps as he's floating happily in a tub filled with myriad bubbles and the room smells like a bath soaps shop. Harry tosses in the rubber ducks and then clambers into the pool. The others arrive in dribs and drabs, but soon they're clinking glasses of sparkling rosé that Winky has provided and Pansy is trying to get everyone to play Never Have I Ever again.

Draco shuffles closer to Harry on the seating ledge in the deep end and and looks around contentedly. Neville is chasing Hannah around the shallow end, kissing her whenever he catches her, while she shrieks in delight. Percy and Oliver are trying to goad Viktor and Ron into another round of chicken, while Zach tries to convince Hermione to get on his shoulders and challenge them. Pansy is orchestrating the entire thing with a pleased smirk on her face.

Draco puts his head on Harry's shoulder and Harry wraps an arm around him.

"I'm so glad you came back," Harry says. "I didn't know what to do without you."

"You'd have figured it out in time," Draco says but Harry shakes his head.

"You gave my life meaning again. Before you, I'd felt directionless. I was alone in this giant house, in a job I didn't want, with no one who cared whether I came home at night."

"Well, two out of three isn't bad," Draco says. He takes a sip of his rosé. The bubbles go up his nose and he blinks hard for a moment. "Do you have any ideas about what, if anything, you might want to do with your time?"

"This," Harry says, gesturing around the room.

"Are you saying that you want to be an interior decorator? No offense, Potter, but you'd be rubbish at it." Harry shifts until he can look Draco in the face. His expression is amused.

"No, I was thinking politics," he says impudently.

"You'd be rubbish at that too."

"But I'm Harry Potter. Everyone would fall over themselves trying to give me the things I want." Draco lifts an eyebrow at him. Harry grins back.

"One, I know you wouldn't actually want that," Draco says. "And two, no, they absolutely would not do that." Harry levels a stare at him. Draco stares back.

"Alright, you got me," Harry says. "I don't know what I want to do. But at least I don't feel as hopeless and alone as I did before."

"A house full of people will do that."

"I was referring to your company, you prat." Draco splashes him and Harry splutters as water gets in his mouth.

"It sounds so loving when you insult me so," Draco says.

"It's hardly fair that you get to have 'insults are my love language' all to yourself."

"Mm, Potter stinks," Draco says, ghosting his lips over Harry's.

"I love you too," Harry says and closes the gap between them.