A/N: I still don't know how it took such a drastic turn from angst to fluff. Oh, well. At least it's written.

WARNING: Teeth-rotting fluff. For the lovers of Shakespeare, I just made it up. Don't flame me for that. I don't have any intention of disrespecting a good author.

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time as he stared at the paperwork hoping that his glare would make the paper burn and he wouldn't have to do it anymore. After the war, he had finally achieved his life's ambition to become an Auror with Hermione and Ron's unwavering support. He had climbed up the ranks in the Department in a short amount of time since he was the best of the others in terms of skills and no one could say that Harry was the second-in-command to the Head of the Auror Department because of his fame.

However, being the best also had many disadvantages and the biggest of them were others taking advantage of him. Harry let them do it most of the time because of his damn hero-complex which he hadn't managed to curb completely over the course of four years.

No one had told him that Auror work required such strenuous amounts of paperwork. Well, it usually didn't but even years after Voldemort's defeat, wannabe Dark Lords popped up somewhere in Great Britain or other. The Ministry was better equipped to handle Dark Lords this time around and the wannabes seem like babies compared to the terrifying might of Voldemort. Still, the newest one was intelligent and it required someone to decipher the complicated plans that their spies brought them. And, of course, everyone just decided to dump the paperwork on the most brilliant Auror in the Ministry.

He thought of going back home but one look at the paperwork immediately curbed that idea even before it was fully formed. The constant attacks on the weak spots of the wannabe Voldemort and the paperwork kept him mostly away from home five days of the week. Harry sighed again. He thought of his husband and how he would be upset that Harry didn't return home on time even after promising him. After explaining everything to him, Draco still believed that Harry could go back home whenever he wanted. Because he deserved a break.

Harry gave up on it as a lost cause after explaining it to Draco three times. There were things Draco simply didn't understand, despite being so similar to one another, and one of them was Harry's willingness to work for everyone and push his own happiness to the end of the list.

Harry stared at the paperwork for another ten minutes. He looked at the wristwatch that was once Fabian Prewett's and decided it was high time to go back home. Paperwork could wait. He packed his things and walked to the Apparition chamber, longing for bed and sleep and for his husband's arms to curl around his torso protectively. Harry smiled slightly. He hoped that Draco was still up.

Harry Apparated to the kitchen, the shimmering wards letting him in. He placed his briefcase on the counter and walked to the living room to hang his coat. He smiled widely when he realized that, yes, Draco was indeed still awake, curled up on the couch and watching a movie. However, his expression turned into worry when he took in Draco's appearance. Draco's cheeks were shining with tears. His face was red and blotchy. He was hugging a pillow close to his chest almost desperately. And, worst of all, Draco was still shaking slightly with sobs. The sniffles were enough to break Harry's heart and he rushed over to his lover's side, dropping to his knees by the sofa.

"Draco, love, what is it? Draco?" Harry slightly shook him but it didn't seem to have any effect.

He shook him harder and said, "Hey, are you crying?"

Draco turned his watery, silver-grey eyes and said, "Oh, hi Harry. I didn't know you were here."

"I am. I am right here, love. Tell me what is wrong," Harry's mind whirled with a thousand possibilities. All coming up with negatives. Draco usually never cried. The only time he did, it was when he woke up from a nightmare which featured Voldemort torturing him and his mother without Harry ever coming to save him. Which had been the exact opposite of what happened.

However, Draco hadn't had such a dream in years.

Draco sniffled again and clutched the pillow even tighter, "She promised she wouldn't let go. She said she wouldn't but she did."

Now Harry was confused. He asked, "Draco, who exactly are you talking about?"

"Her," Draco said, pointing to the telly. Harry turned his head and saw a woman on a piece of wood trying desperately to stay afloat on a vast expanse of water. It looked like she could well be in the middle of the Atlantic. His eyes moved from the screen to the opened, rectangular box on the table. It had the title Titanic emblazoned on it. Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing out of sheer relief.

Draco frowned - it looked more like a pout - and said, "Are you laughing at me?"

Harry swallowed his chuckles and climbed onto the spot next to him. A snicker or two escaped as he took Draco in his arms, "Sorry love, I'm so fucking relieved. I thought you were in trouble or something."

Draco narrowed his eyes and said, "Still no reason to laugh at me." It didn't have the same effect Draco was hoping for and came out as petulant.

"Er…so why are you watching the Titanic? I don't think we owned that movie."

Draco sniffled again, his nose adorably red from crying. Harry just wanted to nuzzle him to death, "Hermione came over and gave the movie to me. She said that Rose and Jack reminded her of us. Something about a couple that society didn't think would be together, but was. Thought I would like the movie."

"You willingly watched a muggle movie without me present," Harry asked looking slightly shocked. Draco still hated muggle things despite living in a mostly muggle house for the past three years (they roamed the world the first year of their marriage).

"You were working late again and I hate sleeping alone on that bed so I decided to give it a go," Draco said, sniffling indignantly.

Harry took in the ruffled hair, red-rimmed eyes and pouty face and decided that Draco looked utterly innocent sitting there. So, he decided to indulge him, "And don't you like it?"

"I utterly hate the movie," he deadpanned.

"Why?" he asked, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Because…because it has a horrible ending! They were happy, Harry! They were going to be together away from that wretched mother of hers and that awful man she was forced to marry! Then he dies. What kind of a movie makes the main character die?"

"Lots of movies, love." Harry said, barely stopping himself from bursting out laughing.

Draco shook his head, "Muggles ruin everything," Harry giggled, "And don't laugh at me," he added.

Harry swallowed his tongue, "Sorry love but, hey, didn't you like Romeo & Juliet? They were the main characters in their movie, and they died."

Draco gave a patient face. The one he usually reserved for the four-year-old Teddy and three-year-old Victoire when explaining something vastly important. "There's a huge difference, darling. Romeo & Juliet was a masterpiece which the muggles sullied to the ground."

"Wasn't Shakespeare a muggle?" Harry already knew this of course, but explaining things made Draco ease up.

"We've already had this conversation, love," Draco said with a look which implied that he knew what Harry was doing, "Shakespeare was the illegitimate child of Natasha Malfoy and Octavian Potter who was given to the muggle world because they had their respective betrothals to honour. He was brought up in the Shakespeare family."

Harry shrugged and buried his head in Draco's silky smooth blond hair.

"Anyways, that's besides the point. Romeo and Juliet died for love so that they could be together. It was all romantic and passionate and what not. And then there is the political aspect of it," Draco explained.

"Political?"

"Yes. The two most powerful families divided by their hatred were brought together by the sacrifice of their children. They were forced to realize that their petty hatred could have deadly consequences. It was all very symbolic. Their deaths were justified. Not like in the Titanic."

Harry decided not to say that Jack Dawson had to die because it amplified the meaning of the line 'to make each day count' which he had spoken earlier in the film. He had a feeling Draco wouldn't like it.

"Anyway, I think that the muggle movies you make me watch are rubbish, Harry. Rose and Jack were supposed to be together and live happily ever after. But instead she let him go. She was selfish, she could've shared the wood with him-"

"You do realize that they did try that and the wood started sinking?" Harry asked, his shoulders shaking from mirth. It was a good thing Draco had drawn away a few moments prior to give his all-important speech or probably Harry would have to sleep on the couch for the next week.

"They could've figured out some other way," Draco insisted, "But, no! She let him freeze and then she let go of his hand. Even after she had promised she wouldn't. And he sank to the bottom of the Atlantic, all alone."

"Love, I do believe he had plenty of corpses to keep him company when he was drowning," Harry said a bit sarcastically, trying to cheer him up.

Draco smirked, a glimpse of his old, arrogant persona coming back before he turned morose again, "Whatever," came the muttered response, "She was all naked for him, she could've at least checked if he was truly dead or not. But no, she had to go and marry this Calvert guy. Why couldn't she at least honour Jack's memory?"

Harry's lips were trembling from keeping the laughter in. He pulled Draco to his lap and started to stroke his hair. Draco purred like a kitten.

Harry smiled and kissed his temple.

"You're not letting this go, are you?" he asked.

"No," came the muffled response, "Completely rubbish ending."

Harry suddenly stopped stroking and looked thoughtful, "You do know that what happened on the Titanic was real, right?"

Draco snapped his head up so fast that Harry was amazed it didn't crack. He fixed Harry with a wet, broken gaze. His silver-grey eyes were wide and his bottom lip trembled, "You mean that Rose and Jack really lived? Jack really died?"

He looked seconds away from crying.

Harry pulled him in and hugged him tight, "No, no sweetheart. I'm pretty sure that Rose and Jack were fictional. But there were probably hundreds of lovers who didn't make it out of the sinking ship."

"Oh," Draco's eyes were wide, "That's-that's really sad to think about, Harry."

There was a moment of utter silence for the 1,500 lost souls.

"So…why don't we watch Macbeth?" Harry proposed, knowing that it was Draco's all-time favourite.

"No," Draco decided, "I'm rewatching the Titanic. Only the good bits. This time, with you present."

Harry smiled and agreed.

A/N: Hope you like it. Please read/review. Have a good day/night.