Chapter 15

A/N: Hi guys, I know it's been a while (well, several months), but here is a slashy, fluffy chapter.

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After their reconciliation, neither Harry nor Draco wanted to be parted from each other. Three and a half weeks had been too much already, so Harry jumped at the chance to stay over.

They left school together, reluctantly parting so that Harry could go home to get his things. He remained silent throughout the ride home, only speaking to ask Lily's permission to go to Draco's for the night. That was granted; she seemed pleased that their friendship was repaired, and clearly trusted him when it came to his being in overnight proximity to his boyfriend.

Harry was in his room, throwing things into a bag, when Deb came in. He looked up with a sigh. "Have you forgotten how to knock?"

She shrugged. "I take it you two made up." It wasn't a question. "I knew it'd happen. You're made for each other."

He rolled his eyes. "Incidentally, how's Ginny?"

His question had the exact effect he had intended; Deb went bright red and answered 'casually': "She's fine, why do you ask?"

He smirked. "I went for a walk by the gym today… interesting view."

"Shit!" Her jaw dropped and she ran her hands through her hair in slight panic. "You… saw!"

Harry couldn't help a laugh. "Far more than I wanted to. But at least I didn't throw up." She shot him a quizzical look. "I fetched Ron. The sight had a far worse effect on him than me."

Deb sank to the floor and sat cross-legged. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn."

He stopped packing and sat down in front of her. "It's okay, we won't tell anyone." He paused. "Are you happy? With Ginny, I mean."

A broad smile broke out across Deb's face. "Yeah… I know how you must have felt when you got together with Draco."

"What about Sam?"

She didn't even query how he knew the name, just answered happily: "She's straight. No point wanting what you can't have. Anyway, Ginny's so much more right for me."

Harry smiled as he turned back to his bag and carried on his packing. Deb's voice reached his ears again. "Got anything special planned for tonight?"

"No," he replied quickly, but a hint of a lie crept into his tone, and Deb noticed it.

"I know that voice," she said suspiciously. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see her eyebrows shoot up, her mouth drop slightly open, and her face blanche. "Harry, please tell me you're not going to… um… 'make things up to him'. Please."

He battled to keep his face from colouring up; she had guessed what was in his head. He knew it wasn't a sensible idea, but he couldn't help thinking it. He was a teenager, after all, and in love. "What?" He responded defensively. "Are you telling me you haven't ever considered that? With Ginny, maybe?" Pink dots appeared in her cheeks, and he knew he had struck home.

"That's not the point," Deb retorted. "For god's sake, Harry, don't do anything stupid. I don't care if you both want it, you're not that old, don't let your heart rule your head."

He stood up, getting angry now. "You're my little sister, Deb! I caught you playing tonsil hockey with someone on the school sports field today; it should be me lecturing you!" Suddenly, he noticed another element of what she had said. "'If we both want it'? What's Dray told you?"

She lifted her head resolutely. "I'm not telling you anything else."

He shrugged. "I know enough. Please leave my room now."

She left unwillingly, making one last plea of "Don't do anything you'll regret!" before he shut the door.

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At eight o' clock, he knocked on Draco's front door. The blond let him in almost immediately. "Mom left half an hour ago," he said quickly, tugging Harry indoors, shutting the door, and kissing him in the way Harry had missed so much. He reciprocated straight away, dropping his bag and readjusting happily to the familiar sensation. He slipped his arms around Draco's slim frame, abandoning conscious thought for the long moment it took them to run out of air.

When that finally happened, they drew slowly apart, and Harry whispered: "I missed you, angel." He traced his fingers down the side of Draco's face, barely daring to breathe. The blond shut his eyes with the sweetest smile imaginable. "I missed you too."

At last, Harry picked up his bag again, and they went upstairs to put it in Draco's room. They went together as they could barely bear to let go of each other for a second. Eventually, they sat down on the couch, still touching. Draco swung his feet up onto the seat and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "Did I tell you yet how sorry I am for what happened?"

"Yes," Harry answered softly. "And I forgive you. Completely. Because I'm in love with you."

Draco's breathing caught in his throat. "You haven't said that before."

"Maybe it just took me time to realise."

"Maybe." Draco lifted his head so he could look Harry in the eye. "I'm in love with you too."

They shared another, briefer kiss, before Draco remembered his duty as host. "Would you like a drink?"

"That'd be nice," Harry murmured. "What have you got?"

Draco smiled mysteriously. "Surprise." He stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. When he re-emerged, he held his hands behind his back for a moment, before revealing what he was holding and saying gleefully: "Lambrini! It's the cheap tart's version of Lambrusco, or so I hear." He sat back down and filled two glasses. Grinning, he lifted his with his little finger sticking out in a parody of class, and said demurely: "Cheers."

They clinked glasses and drank. It wasn't bad stuff. After a moment, Harry stifled a laugh. Draco gave him a questioning look. "What's funny?"

Harry sighed. "It's just the remarkable appropriateness. Straight, macho guys drink beer. And what do we drink? 'Cheap tart's Lambrusco'."

By nine o' clock, they were both a little tipsy. It had taken about three bottles, and it was only mild, but it was there. Under normal circumstances, for instance, they would not have chosen to put on Meatloaf's Dead Ringer For Love and do the conga round the living room. In these circumstances, though, they did. Subsequently, they ended up singing the words at each other and doing disco moves until the leg of the coffee table presented an obstruction and they fell onto the couch.

For Draco, it felt like the music faded into silence as green eyes stared down at him. Anticipation was beginning to get the better of him when Harry dragged them both upright and started dancing again.

Several songs later, they were slightly out of breath, and both looking a little green around the gills. It was the dancing that did it, they concluded after an unpleasant few minutes in the bathroom and a large amount of water ingestion.

Only an hour and a half after the commencement of the conga-ing, they went upstairs, Draco to his room, Harry to the bathroom, and got changed for bed.

When Harry emerged from the bathroom and went across the landing, he found Draco already in bed, reading. He drew closer and looked at the cover of the book. "Catch-22," he read. "Good choice."

Draco looked up, smiling. "I thought you would have read it. I love it; it's the only book I know that manages to be funny and totally intelligent at the same time. It really makes you think, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded pensively, sitting down on the bed. "You never look at authority the same way again."

Draco closed the book and slid it onto his nightstand. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah, much," Harry answered. "I don't think the dancing was wise, but I do feel better now."

Draco continued to watch him for a moment, then said: "So are… are you coming in with me?"

Harry looked levelly back at him. "Do you want me to?"

In answer, the blond slid back the duvet and moved over. Harry settled next to him. There was a comfortable silence before Draco slowly moved closer to him, and their lips met. The kiss was short and chaste. Afterwards, they held each other's gaze for several seconds, as if asking for permission. Whatever it was they were seeking in each other's eyes, they got it; the next kiss was stronger, showing more of the feelings shared.

Before they knew it, they were clinging together, skin on skin, breathing hard. Harry's fingertips traced reverent swirls down Draco's face. "I love you, angel."

"I love you too." Draco shifted close again, sliding his arms down to Harry's waist and kissing him softly. Harry returned the kiss, letting his fingers trail down the other boy's spine as he revelled in their closeness.

All advice had gone out of the window. The two of them were firmly ensnared in the moment, until at last things became too serious to deal with in silence.

As another kiss ended, Draco turned his head away and whispered: "I don't think we should… I think we should stop."

Harry sighed. "I know." He smiled gently. "I don't think either of us is ready."

"No." Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, returning the smile. "But out of the whole world… you should know that I'm saving myself for you. Forever."

Harry's heart melted. "And I don't want anyone else."

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