Chapter 19

Disclaimer: The main characters belong to JK Rowling (at least, their names do), but the setting, plot and some other characters are mine.

A/N: Well, it's been a while. This chapter has been in the pipeline for over a month now, and I sincerely apologise for the wait. First I had GCSE exams, and then my focus went from fanfiction to my original novel-in-progress. I'd like to promise that it won't happen again, but I can't honestly do that. The most I can do is say that this fic should get finished at some point in the future.

Warnings: Mild language, slash, weirdness.

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"Dare I ask what you two were fighting about to make her like this?"

Harry's attention snapped forward as he heard his godfather speak. "Um… just… stuff."

Sirius sighed in mock defeat. "Suit yourself, kid. Did you tell your mom when you left the house?"

"Oh crap… No, I didn't."

"God, teenagers." Sirius pulled over, stopping the engine and taking out his cell. "Lily? It's me. Have you noticed that your two emotional minefields are missing? …Harry and Debs, who else? …Yeah, they're with me; that okay? …Hmmm …D'you want me to feed them? …Alright, will do." He hung up. "She didn't even know the two of you had gone; I guess she missed the histrionics."

"Flattering." This last voice was female, and none too strong. Harry and Draco turned to the middle seat in surprise.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Dear god, state the obvious, why don't you?" Deb rolled her eyes at her brother.

"You're also pretty damn sober…"

"Well duh. I had one glass; I'm not that much of a lightweight." She quickly pre-empted Harry's next words. "And don't say you're mad at me for running, or any of that shit, because we both know…" She had suddenly noticed who was in the front passenger seat. "Um, hi, Mr Lupin… What are you doing here?"

"Having the worst 'date' of his life, I imagine," Sirius answered for him, starting the car again.

"'Date'?" Deb looked utterly bemused for a moment. Then it clicked. "Oh, er… congratulations?"

Sirius laughed. "Why thank you." The car turned back into the flow of traffic. "I told your mom I'd give you both dinner before I take you home; you okay sticking around for a while? Offer goes for you too, Draco."

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Within twenty minutes, they were pulling into the driveway of Sirius' house on the outskirts of town. Deb hadn't said anything more; it seemed she was every bit as reluctant as Harry was to go into the specifics of their fight in front of Sirius and Lupin. But she had proved her sobriety, as she was fairly alert, if quieter than usual.

Nonetheless, as soon as they got indoors, Sirius held the back of his hand to her forehead, held up varying numbers of fingers for her to count, and made her drink a large glass of water. Then he left her in the living room with Harry and Draco while he headed into the kitchen, with Lupin following.

"Are you two going to sort this out?" Draco asked at last, bored of the two siblings shooting veiled glares at each other. After the silence had stretched out for a few more seconds, he sighed. "Fine, I'll start. Deb, I'd like you to know that I'm actually bloody insulted by what you said about us being cowards." But he only left a moment's pause before rounding on Harry. "And you shouldn't have hit her. I know you were defending my honour and all, but you're not stupid, and you're not as tame as you seem at first glance. You're not blameless in this."

There was a long pause, both of them holding back through an identical sense of pride. Harry cracked first, feeling the hint of animosity emanating from his boyfriend, and fearing reprisals if he held his silence. "Deb, I'm sorry. I was pissed off, and I said some stuff that was pretty harsh, and unfair. I know you and Ginny really do care about each other, and I shouldn't have been so nasty about it all."

"Accepted," she muttered. "I'm sorry I called you cowards, and got involved in your relationship so much. If you wanna… do stuff, it's none of my business."

"Thank you." Harry dropped his head onto the back of the couch with a sigh. "So are we cool now?"

"I guess so. I'll butt out of your relationship if you butt out of mine. Deal?"

"Deal." He looked over at her, unable to hold back a glimmer of amusement at her turn of phrase. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room was a lot more pleasant.

Smiling at last, Deb stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Dray, thanks for being the only rational person here."

"Well, I try."

"Sad," Harry commented after she had left the room. "She acts more like a sister to you than she ever does to me."

Draco frowned sceptically, moving down the couch to sit next to him. "Then what was all that stuff about interfering? She was only doing it because she cares about you, you know."

Harry dropped his head onto his boyfriend's shoulder, smiling. "I guess." He sighed gently as, clearly trusting the adults to stay in the kitchen for a while longer, Draco lifted one hand to stroke his hair. "So what's my reward for being grown-up about this and apologising first?"

Draco dropped a kiss in his unruly hair, smirking as he said the first thing to pop into his head. "I'll let you top."

"What?" Harry's jaw fell as he slipped out of the blond's embrace and stared at him in astonishment.

Registering what he had just said, Draco blushed brightly and bit his lip, flustered. "I didn't mean to say that, I really didn't, I swear…"

Before Harry could reply, Sirius appeared in the doorway that led into the kitchen. "Draco, do you eat spaghetti –" he broke off and spoke over his shoulder "– what's it called again?"

"Spaghetti marinara," came the reply from the kitchen. "And I thought you were so sophisticated…"

"I'll make you regret that," Sirius growled back, his smirk and tone of voice giving an implicit meaning that Harry and Draco would rather not have to think about. After all, it was one of their teachers on the receiving end. Fortunately, Sirius quickly snapped his attention back to them and asked in a somewhat distracted voice: "So, is spaghetti marinara okay with you two?"

"Fine with me," Harry answered, trying to keep his words clear of the effects of the past few minutes.

"That sounds great," Draco added, having to make a similar effort.

As soon as Sirius went back into the kitchen, an uncomfortable silence descended, neither Harry nor Draco knowing quite how to follow Draco's slip of the tongue. As such, when Deb returned from the bathroom, she found them sitting about three feet apart on the same couch, looking distinctly awkward.

The half-hour between then and dinner being ready could have been unnervingly silent if not for two things. Firstly, Deb had the good sense to switch on the TV, thus proving that even such banality as Takeshi's Castles is better than a pure sonic void. Secondly, Draco disappeared for about five minutes after realising that he had yet to call his mother.

Between phone calls and Japanese game shows, they managed to pass the time without having to say even a word to each other. And soon they were being called into the kitchen, and their senses assaulted by dinner. Harry and Deb could tell within one bite that Sirius had had little if anything to do with its preparation; he was like a gremlin in the kitchen. This ambrosia had to be Lupin's doing.

The two adults must have noticed the lack of conversation or even eye contact at the table, as none of the three teenagers actually spoke other than to request the passing of pepper, bread rolls, and other such items, and to awkwardly thank Lupin for the meal. Maybe, had they known about Harry and Draco's relationship, this would have seemed stranger than it did. But given their ignorance of that salient fact, the protracted silence could easily be attributed to a trying day.

After dinner, there was still no real communication going on, so the washing up was abandoned, and Sirius gave up on trying to defuse the tangible tension. "I think I'd better take you three home. Draco, I hope you don't live too far away; I'm running out of gas in the car."

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Several hours later, Harry was getting close to his reward. Abstinence and patience were forgotten as he lay at last with Draco enfolded in his arms, skin against skin raising the heat in the room to the level of fever.

"Remember what you said you'd give me as a reward?" Harry murmured as the blond moved to his neck, kissing and biting, leaving tiny pink marks every few centimetres.

"Mm-hm," Draco responded, slowly stopping and lifting himself to look into Harry's eyes. "I guess it's time to let you have it."

His voice sent a rush of heat through Harry's entire body, and he flipped them both over, taking the blond's place as the dominant. "Damn right." But instead of taking what he had so recently been promised, he echoed Draco's movements by shifting to leave a few marks of his own, eliciting sighs and moans from the other boy. With one hand placed beside Draco's body, propping himself up, his other hand slid lower, teasing down Draco's chest, brushing over his flat stomach, and at last touching him.

Then there were slender fingers racing over his own skin, taking hold of him, moving oh-so-slightly, and the sensation was driving him crazy, building and building, until he could hardly believe that they had been prepared to put this off.

The heat was rising, not the only thing making him light headed, and suddenly, stars exploded across his vision, and the single most unbelievable feeling ever was taking over every atom of his being –

"OH GOD!"

Harry opened his eyes as the cry left his lips, and saw pure darkness. What? He sat up, unexpectedly finding himself alone, and in place of soft lighting, the only thing to break the darkness was a jumble of red lines beside him. He squinted, and the lines arranged themselves: 03.27. It was a clock.

The heat was draining from his limbs now, but the more obvious, tangible evidence remained, proving that he had indeed felt that amazing, all-consuming sensation. But the clock, the dark, and the otherwise empty bed proved the rest: it was a dream.

"I'll let you top." After all they had said about taking things slowly, how had those words had such an effect on him?

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A/N: For this ending, my thanks go to all the people on the Misheard Lyrics Archive who misheard Bryan Adams' Summer of '69. They inspired me. In closing, I want to say thanks also to all the people who continue to believe in this story. I really appreciate it. If you have any ideas for what you want to see happening in this fic, suggestions are very welcome.

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