A/N: Honestly, this entire thing is just wish fulfillment. If *I* were writing this story, it wouldn't have nearly as much author appeal. Wait -

Chapter title from CRJ's "Too Much".

Draco had Apparated to Harry and Ginny's apartment with them, and Ginny went into the kitchen to make tea. Draco took his time examining the living room, something he hadn't had the chance to do the other night. They had sort of… rushed straight into the bedroom, and the next morning he had left in a hurry. Now, however, he took his time examining the various Muggle contraptions, including something Harry had called a television, and the books on the bookshelf above it, which were mostly Quidditch related, although a copy of Hogwarts: A History was also there. It looked untouched. At the end were some paperbacks Draco didn't recognize. He pulled one of them out. The cover said "Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus". He wordlessly showed the cover to Harry, who smiled a bit.

"It's a Muggle classic," Harry explained. "Hermione found a copy she liked better, so she gave us her old one. Ginny's read about half of it, I think."

"What is it about?"

"Guilt," Ginny said, walking over with a tray with three mugs. "It's about guilt. The main character keeps running away from the consequences of his actions. I couldn't handle the cowardice after a while. It's there mostly because I think Hermione would be insulted if we got rid of it."

"How many books on that shelf are there because Granger would be insulted if you got rid of them?" Draco asked. He slipped the book back on the shelf, grabbed a mug, and sat down on one a chair.

"Pretty much all of the ones that aren't about Quidditch," Harry said, sipping his tea. "Except for the one about Herbology. That one's from Neville."

"Have you read any of them?" Draco asked.

"He's read all of the Quidditch books more than once," Ginny said. "But I'm the only one who's touched the fiction. Hogwarts: A History has remained untouched since Hermione gave it to us… what, four years ago?"

Harry sipped his tea. "Sounds right to me. It was right when we moved into that tiny flat."

"Why did we do that, again?" Ginny asked.

"Because you insisted on paying half the rent," Harry reminded her, "and you didn't have much of an income at the time."

"Right," Ginny said. "Foolish of me. You're too rich as is."

Draco watched the back and forth silently, his heart aching at the sight of their easy banter. They'd been together for seven years; they knew each other so well, shared a history in a way that Draco didn't. He didn't know where he fit into that. Not yet.

Eventually, Harry noticed that Draco hadn't said anything in a while. In an effort to rope him into the conversation, he said, "You can borrow it if you like."

Draco didn't understand, and the confusion must have registered on his face, because Harry explained, "Frankenstein. Maybe you'll get some use out of it. We sure won't."

Draco nodded, unsure how to respond. For some reason, all of his words were stuck in his throat. His chest felt uncomfortably tight.

"Are you okay?" Harry said, worry creeping into his voice. He and Ginny both put their mugs on the tray.

"I don't know," he said honestly. Harry got up and came over to him, putting a hand on the back of his neck; Ginny plucked the mug out of his hands gently, and grabbed one of his hands. She raised it, put her lips to it; somehow, that loosened the tightness in his chest. Harry kissed him, and that loosened the lump in his throat.

That first night, a week ago, had been passionate. Not hurried, exactly, but intense in a way that he had never experienced before. This, however, was slow. So slow it was agonizing, but exciting nonetheless. It left him breathless. They embraced him, touched him all over, left him unable to speak. It was overwhelming. When they finished with him, he didn't think he could move. Harry kissed him again, and it felt lazy. Like they had all the time in the world. Maybe he did.

When he finally felt he could control his own body again, he returned the favor. To both of them.

Draco Apparated back to his house to gather some of his things. He said he wouldn't be long, but Ginny told him to take his time, so he decided to take a short break. He lay on the bed, not thinking of anything in particular. He stared at the ceiling, trying to avoid thinking of the last hour or so. Every time he did, he felt himself get excited, and he wanted to calm down, pull himself together, think seriously on what he was doing.

Was he losing his damn mind? He must be. In Hogwarts, he never would have imagined this outcome. Then again, he wasn't who he had been in Hogwarts any longer. In Hogwarts, he had kissed whomever he liked – or, almost everyone. He spent his days as king of his little piece of the world. And then…

Well, it wasn't easy living with his choices, but at least he eventually began making the right ones.

He wondered, if he got married to a half-blood, if his father would even show up to the wedding. He wondered if he would show up to any wedding whatsoever. Probably not.

Feeling himself spiraling, he decided to take a short walk around the neighborhood, to clear his mind. Some air would do him some good, he thought. He was sorely mistaken; he came back even more miserable than before, with the summer heat chasing him into the house, which was magically cooled.

"I can do this," he whispered to himself. "I can spend the night with them. I won't lose my mind over one more evening."

He gathered his things – a toothbrush included – and Apparated to their kitchen. He could hear their voices, so he inched towards to bedroom. The door was closed, but before he could knock on it, he heard his name.

"I just don't know what to think about it," Ginny was saying. She and Harry had ended up in the bedroom, trying to find a spell that would extend it, but only a little bit, and that wouldn't twist reality around. It was surprisingly difficult, especially since neither of them was particularly good at household charms. "I don't know if Draco feels the same way about me as I do about him. I think he might be in this just for you."

"I seriously doubt that," Harry said. "You're incredible. I can see that. He can see that. He doesn't have to say it in words. You can see it every time he looks at you."

"I don't know," she said skeptically. She waved her wand at the bed and said, "Augeo paullum."

"Aha!" Harry said. "We have a winner." The bed had indeed extended just enough that it had room for three people.

There was a knock on the door. Draco's voice sounded from beyond it. "I'm back, and I'm coming in," he warned. "I hope you're not decent in there."

Ginny panicked a little, hoping Draco hadn't heard anything before he knocked, but when he opened the door and stepped inside, Draco's expression betrayed nothing. He tsked and said, "I'm disappointed in the both of you. Fully clothed in the bedroom. What a waste."

Harry chuckled. "We were just expanding the bed." He gestured towards it, and Draco nodded with approval.

"Seems like a success to me. Although, I can't help but wonder why all that space is needed."

Harry hesitated, so Ginny answered instead. "Nightmares. Harry lashes out sometimes."

"Ah," Draco said awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond. "Does this… happen often?"

"Not so much anymore," Harry said, then coughed. "I'm going to get some water." He left the room quickly and unceremoniously.

"It's a sore spot," Ginny explained. "I only mentioned it cause it'll affect your sleep directly. Don't mention it unless you have to."

"I'm not dumb, you know," Draco said. "I know not to share something intimate just because it was shared with me."

"Good," Ginny said. "I'm going to go checkup him. You can settle in in the meantime. The top drawer in the dresser is yours. See you in a minute."