Jimbo - ... I'm offended! You may ask why... I'll let you wonder about that...

FireOpal has tried to be a better beta... don't blame me if she cocks up though.

Thanks for encouragement... I was getting depressed that I don't have many reviews, but then I saw FireOpal's... they consist of about one line. Thank you for constructive reviews!

"It's my birthday in four days!" Draco said excitedly as he bounced on his bed. Harry sighed and tried to concentrate on the essay Snape had set them. Fourteen inches with the title 'Properties and Practical Uses of Kodama's Blood' and Draco had already finished, though refused to let Harry see.

"You can't copy me in the exam," he had pointed out.

"But I've only got eight inches! That's only just half!"

"Yes thank you I did take Arithmancy for OWLs,"

Harry put down his quill and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes, his glasses pushed up. He turned in his seat at the desk to look at Draco.

"You're more excited than a… a… a child who's got a very good reason to be excited," Harry finished lamely. Draco pulled a face, staring.

"You really need to work on your insults," he commented.

"I know," Harry said wearily.

"So, have you got my present yet?"

"Yes, and you know I have. I got it last Hogsmeade trip, remember?" He had, by now, drawn out the map of Hogsmeade (with some help of old maps he had found in the library) and was busy thinking of what to call it.

"Have you got me a bouquet yet?"

Harry simply stared at him.

"Oh yeah, forgot, Muggle-raised," Draco said knowingly, and beckoned Harry over to sit on the bed with him. With a dejected grumble, Harry abandoned the half-done essay and climbed onto the four-poster, laying down and burying his face in the dark green duvet.

"Go on then, tell me," he said in a muffled voice.

"Not whilst your face is buried in there," Draco snapped. Harry turned his face to Draco, and ended up squirming across the bed to lay his head beside his boyfriend's thigh.

"At your birthday, you're given a bouquet of plants with meaning," Draco explained, threading his fingers through Harry's black hair. "You get one every year. There'll be books on what different plants mean in the library if you need it,"

Harry didn't reply; Draco's fingers in his hair were very relaxing.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked for the sixth time as they made their way down the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Normally, Harry would have used the passage to Honeydukes, but at eight o'clock there was a chance that they'd be caught. Draco stumbled over a tree root as he walked along beside Harry.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Harry insisted. He had turned up that night at six wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark green shirt, demanding that Draco get dressed (he was in his pyjamas) and then dragged him off across the grounds under the Invisibility Cloak. As they surfaced in the Shrieking Shack, Draco's whines became more petulant.

"Tell me or I'm not coming!"

"Oh you will come," Harry said determinedly, and pulled him down the stairs and out of one of the broken windows. They made their way through the snow-covered paths down the hill to the village. It twinkled merrily in the dark, looking every bit the little Christmas town with the snow swirling around, fairy lights sparkling and the large Christmas tree laden with decorations. Harry slipped his hand into Draco's as they trudged down the slope.

He led him down a side street that Draco had never been down before, stopping in front of a restaurant Draco didn't know existed. He glanced uncertainly at Harry, who just smiled, and tugged him into Dunaway's.

"May I help you?" asked a witch at a till in the entrance. She was wearing a smart royal blue uniform and had blond hair that was twisted into a neat bun at the back of her head.

"Yes, I have a table reserved for eight, under the name Antares," Harry said, stepping up to her.

"Certainly," the witch said, and ticked something off, stepping down from the small podium and opening the door for them. "This way please,"

They walked through into a room that was done in a dark wood – probably oak or mahogany – and deep reds. Candles burned on each table, the main lighting low, and through the windows Draco could see the snow collecting on the roads. The witch showed them to a table next to the window, and they sat down as she handed them menus.

"Would you like the wine list, sir?" asked waitress with brown hair.

"Yes please," Harry replied as he took off his coat.

"You do realise how weird this is, don't you?" Draco asked wryly once she was out of earshot. "A sixteen-year-old taking a seventeen-year-old out for dinner at a rather posh-looking restaurant? And do you really expect to be served wine?"

"I think you'll find that you can buy alcohol with a meal once you hit sixteen, so it's not a problem," Harry replied airily, and took the menu graciously from the waitress. He handed it to Draco. "You choose. You're the aristocrat here."

Draco took the proffered menu and peered at it. Harry watched with amusement as, with a practised eye, Draco cast his glance down the list and chose a wine. He signalled the waitress over.

"Château Haut-Briond, 1959. Magnificent wine," he added for Harry's benefit as the waitress nodded and went to fetch a bottle. "I love it. My father educated me in wines. I have sampled many wines, and this is my favourite." The waitress returned with the bottle and poured them each a glass, setting it down and leaving them to decide on the food.

"Oh, fantastic," Draco said enthusiastically as he browsed the menu. Harry raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "This all looks delicious. Fantastic." He repeated, and fell silent for a while as he chose his food.

"Would you like a starter?" Harry asked once he'd chosen. Draco glanced at him over the top of the velvet-covered menu.

"Are you sure? This is going to cost a lot as it is."

"Draco, it's your birthday. Now do you want a starter or not?"

"Yes then, I think I will. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and motioned the waitress over. She pulled a minuscule notebook and quill out, set the quill upright on the parchment and looked expectantly at the Slytherin.

"Deep-fried calamari with hollandaise sauce for starters, and crown roast lamb in mint sauce with Duchess potatoes please," he said smoothly. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Prawn cocktail for starters, and chicken breasts in fettuccini sauce,"

The quill whizzed across the parchment, and within five seconds it had disappeared away into the pockets of the waitress's uniform.

"You meal will be with you soon," she said formally, and was gone in a blink of an eye. Harry sighed and folded his hands on the table, gazing at Draco.

"Is this all right?" he asked earnestly. Draco stared at him in disbelief.

"All right? Harry, it's bloody amazing. Thank you!" he said enthusiastically. Harry grinned. He had given the bouquet to Draco on his actual birthday, but was saving the Map for tonight – the Saturday – when he could take him out.

It had been pure luck, really – he had found the shop whilst looking for his birthday present the previous Hogsmeade trip, and had gone back a week ago to check it out and book a table. Well, Draco wasn't much of a Malfoy anymore, Harry knew that his father hadn't sent him anything but a Howler, and it was his seventeenth birthday – he was of age, and it was a big birthday. Harry felt he had to do something special. It had been a Hogsmeade weekend anyway, but they had slipped out under the cover of night to return for the meal.

"This is very nice, Harry," Draco said approvingly, casting his eye around the place. Harry had to agree. This was probably one of his better ideas. Draco's tone suddenly went serious. "And you know I'm grateful. But you really have outdone yourself. This is going to cost more than half the year has in their vaults."

"It's your coming-of-age. You're now an adult in the wizarding world. You deserve a decent celebration. It's tradition, even for Muggles. Don't dwell on it,"

Draco smiled ruefully.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to do something similar for your birthday?" he asked. Harry grinned back.

"I doubt you'll be anywhere near me for my birthday. It's the end of July. You'll probably be with a relative somewhere."

"Not likely," Draco scoffed. "Now I'm seventeen, I can buy a flat somewhere. I can practically denounce myself as a Malfoy, and cut all ties should I wish,"

"And do you want to?"

"I'm not sure," Draco said honestly. "By now, he'll have found out all about this. You and me. He'll either completely disown me, or decide it's some cunning plan to get to you. I would say that I hope it's the latter, but that's selfish and you'll probably end up getting killed," he said with a shrug. Harry reached across the table to where Draco's hand sat and slipped his fingers in between his.

"Don't think about it." He advised, and Draco sighed, but he was saved replying by the starters arriving.

"Thank you Harry," Draco said again as they made their way back up the hill to the Shrieking Shack, swaying slightly. After the meal Draco had decided that he would take Harry to the Three Broomsticks and buy him at least one drink, though it soon turned out to be more than just one.

"You already said thank you lots of times," Harry reminded him, elbows bumping as they moved. They squirmed through the hole and got to the trapdoor before Draco took out his wand.

"Sobrietus," he said exuberantly, pointing it at Harry. Immediately, the slightly detached feeling disappeared and he stopped swaying, blinking.

"Why did you have to do that?" he whined petulantly, not caring that he sounded like a small child. Draco raised an eyebrow and cast the charm on himself.

"Stay here. Don't go anywhere," he ordered, and started up the stairs. Harry sat down o the bottom step and waited obediently for him to return. He was dozing off, leaning against the mule post, when Draco tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to stand. Harry did as asked, and wordlessly followed Draco up the stairs and into the room in which he had first met Sirius properly.

Draco led him over to the centre of the room, then stopped and turned to face him, mere inches away. His hands slid down Harry's chest, undoing the buttons one by one as they made their way down. The clothing slipped off Harry's shoulders as the last button was undone, and Draco kissed him long and hard before moving onto the rest of the clothing, leading him over to the bed as his Seeker's hands danced over Harry's skin.

"Nox."

Come on people, is IS I can't get particularly graphic without boosting the rating...

Reviews VERY welcome,

smokey