A tapping on the window made Harry wake up, and he looked towards the noise with bleary eyes. It was an owl.
Stumbling out of bed, Harry let the bird in and accepted his letter, paying him quickly to get him to leave to close the window again. It was letting in cold air, and he hadn't bothered pulling a robe on.
He dived back under the covers, snuggling against a very warm Draco, who murmured in protest at his cool skin. His heart sunk when he saw it was from Matilda Dankworth, his boss. Fuck.
Rubbing his hands through his unusually messy hair, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already half-ten and he should have been at work at nine. Why hadn't his alarm charm gone off?
Sighing, he opened the letter. A newspaper clipping fell on to his lap. "Mr. Potter, were you planning to come to work today? Please stop by my office when you deign to arrive. ."
The newspaper clipping was a picture of Draco and himself, glued to each other's sides, looking slightly drunk as they left the restaurant. The caption below said, 'Ooh la la! Gay lovebirds Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy leave shortly after arriving at French restaurant 'Un Baiser' last night. They would not comment in the nature of their relationship, but they look rather intimate, oui?'
Draco was sitting up, yawning, and shifted to recline against the headboard. "What's going on?"
"I'm incredibly late for work and my boss just sent me a letter with a picture of us," Harry passed the clipping over and buried his hands in his hair. "Fuck. There is no way I can say I was sick or some other excuse. She knows I was out late with you."
Draco tossed the clipping on the floor. "Oh, fuck 'em. You have gone over and beyond your role for years. Can't she cut you a little slack and give you a personal day?"
"People are depending on me," Harry rolled his eyes as Draco kissed his shoulder, and ran a hand down his chest.
Draco gave him a naughty smile. "They can call somebody else in to cover your shift. But what would I do if you weren't here?" His hand slipped lower, stroking over Harry's growing erection.
"Draco...," he tried for a warning growl, but it came out as more of a needy whine.
Kissing up Harry's neck, Draco stopped near his ear, a place Harry loved being kissed. "I really want to fuck you, Harry."
The rough whisper made Harry groan, turning to kiss Draco hard. It was the thing he had fantasized the most about, for months and months. Draco was right, they could get someone else to cover his work. There was no way he was leaving this bed now.
He was nervous but incredibly turned on, rocking against Draco's hand and tilting his head up so Draco could kiss down his neck.
"Mmmm you are so hot for this, aren't you?" Draco chuckled, moving his hand downwards. He prepped Harry thoroughly, but then rolled on to his back. "I want to watch you."
That was another fantasy of Harry's, and he crawled over Draco, slowly lowering himself until they were fully connected. He leaned down, kissing Draco, getting used to the feeling. It was wonderful, but almost too intense. Too much.
Draco closed his eyes with a groan, rubbing his hands up and down Harry's back. "So good, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible."
The rough-edged words got Harry moving, raising and lowering himself, looking down at Draco the whole time. He found certain movements felt really good, and he closed his eyes, rotating his hips to repeat them, groaning.
Draco was into it just as much, arching up to meet Harry's motions, his hands on his hips clenching so tight there would probably be bruises later.
Harry loved it, but found he needed more. He changed position, getting on his hands and knees. Draco followed him, pushing right into him, hard and deep. Lowering his head down to the bed, Harry rocked back with every hard thrust, begging for more.
He was right on the edge, and could tell Draco was too. Reaching for his own cock, he stroked fast, keening against the pillow. It was just what he needed, and Draco shoved deep as he groaned loudly.
Rolling on to his back, Harry felt achy and well-used. Fucked out. Completely relaxed and wonderfully sore. Sex with Draco was always a completely consuming, all-in thing. Intense and fantastic.
He fell asleep, Draco spooning him from behind, kissing the nape of his neck. The crumpled letter from Dankworth slipped to the floor.
...
Fuck.
Harry rested his forehead against the door jamb with a sigh, and then raised his hand to give a sharp knock.
"Enter," an authoritative female voice inside called out.
Taking a deep breath, Harry walked into the large office, and sat on one of the red leather chairs facing the huge mahogany desk. It was covered with ornate carvings and stained almost black.
Matilda Dankworth sat behind it, an older woman with short salt and pepper hair and wise, dark eyes. They were on Harry now, quietly assessing him, and he knew her experienced gaze was probably deducing everything.
She stood up and walked around her desk to lean against it near Harry. Her white dress shirt was paired with dark pinstripe trousers, giving her a tailored, business air. "Harry, I have known you many years, and I am shocked by the erratic behavior you are exhibiting lately."
Her voice was calm and concerned, not the angry tirade he had been half-expecting. She tilted her head slightly to the side, still watching him closely.
"Skipping a shift yesterday, often coming in sleep-deprived, and not going to your therapy appointments. Harry, I'm seeing a worsening trend in your behaviour. How focussed are you on the job?"
Harry knew what she was saying was true, but the words still sent a flare of anger through him. He had hardly had a life outside of work for years, and she was treating him like this now? Didn't he deserve a break?
"You know I do the job better than half of your force, even when I'm tired," Harry said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Keep it together.
She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest at his retaliation. "You are excellent at your job, but I can't be seen as playing favorites. I have to hold you up to the same standards as everyone else."
Harry stood up, unable to sit still any longer. "You want me to act like an auror fresh out of school, toeing the line?"
It came out harsher in tone than he intended, and he could see Dankworth's eyes flash in response. "I think you need some time away, Potter. Perhaps I will allow you come back when you are ready to do the job properly."
Harry couldn't believe what she had just said. "Are you suspending me?" Outrage was making him stand straighter, looming over her.
Dankworth calmly got off the desk, glaring challengingly right back at Harry. "Yes. Effective immediately. Leave now."
She spun to march behind her desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and her quill once she sat down. No doubt to notify security about his change in status.
Harry knew he was too angry to argue with her, and beneath her cool demeanor, she was irked by the way he had talked back. There was no point continuing this now, when they were both so stirred up. Harry left the office, closing the door a little harder than he should have.
...
"Suspended? You?" Ron was looking at Harry in shock.
Hermione took a big gulp of her beer, and stared at Harry too. "I know things were getting bad, but I didn't think they were that bad."
Harry had already drained his glass and waved to the server for another round. He scoffed. "It was nothing! I missed one bloody shift!"
Ron shared a glance with Hermione, before putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Plus coming in exhausted, and being more moody. Half the aurors are afraid to talk to you, since you've been snapping at them so often."
"Dankworth is a woman in charge of Magical Law Enforcement, and she can't be seen as weak. If she doesn't nip your bad behavior in the bud, other aurors may start to challenge her authority in other ways," Hermione said as the server unloaded the full glasses on to their table. "Why did you order another round? Ron and I have to go back to work soon."
Harry grabbed a glass and chugged down half of it. He thumped it down on the table, and glared at both of them. "Maybe I thought my closest friends would be here to support me when I am going through a big pile of crap?"
"You know it's not like that, mate," Ron said quickly, looking guilty.
Harry shrugged Ron's hand off his shoulder, and shifted further away. "Fine. Go. I'll drink them all myself."
"Not sharing? Pity, I was feeling a bit thirsty," Draco appeared beside the table, smirking at Harry in a way he had grown to rather like.
It didn't have the same effect on Ron and Hermione, who stiffened up as Draco sat down beside Harry. It was even worse when he leaned in to give him a long kiss hello.
Draco gave them an unrepentant look as he sat back and sipped a beer, clearly challenging them to comment.
"We'll get going, Harry, since you have Draco here to take care of you now," Hermione said with a slightly sarcastic tone, urging Ron out of the booth. She threw down some money. "Send me an owl when you've calmed down enough to talk rationally about this."
Draco gazed at their retreating backs. "That wasn't much of a reunion. They hardly even said a word to me."
Harry could tell Draco couldn't care less, and it matched his own mood quite well. "Fuck 'em. Let's order some firewhiskey. It will get me drunk faster."
Five drinks later, Harry didn't have many worries. "It's actually a good thing...I need more time to work on my charity. Clem's always bugging me 'bout it."
Draco clinked his tumbler against Harry's, and took another sip. "Exactly! When I let you out of my bed."
Harry gave him a bleary grin. "You are a bad, bad influence, Draco Malfoy. And that's exactly what I need. I've been such a fucking goodie-goodie for so many fucking years. And what do I have to show for it?"
Draco held up his glass. "To bad influences."
Harry clinked glasses, and downed the whiskey, leaning into Draco. "To gorgeous bad influences..." He stared at Draco's lips, and went for another long kiss.
Kissing him back with a pleased hum, Draco didn't seem to care that they were in a public place. Didn't even raise any objections when Harry crawled over him, straddling his lap and kissing him properly.
A throat clearly loudly by their table made Harry lift his head from Draco's neck. Already, a pleasing red patch was developing there. "What..."
The pub's owner stood there, arms crossed over his muscular chest. "Your behavior is inappropriate. Please leave."
"Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Draco groaned, dropping his hands from Harry's back.
Harry crawled out of the booth, wobbling a little, and glared up at the man. "We aren't doing anything I haven't seen dozens of straight couples do in public."
Draco followed him, slinging an arm over Harry's shoulders. "Don't bother. Close-minded fucktards like him aren't worth it. I know ten better places than this shithole."
He spent the rest of the night showing Harry precisely that, drinking and dancing and doing anything to make Harry forget what a crappy day it had been. They crashed back at Draco's flat in the wee hours of the morning, too drunk and tired to even have sex.
...
Harry woke up alone, sprawled across Draco's bed, the sheets twisted around him uncomfortably. By the time he had freed himself, and stumbled to the bathroom, he realized how awful he felt.
Taking a hangover potion he found in the cabinet above the sink, Harry started a hot bath and went to the kitchen area to pour a huge glass of water. He guzzled it down and refilled it before carrying it back to the bathroom.
Sinking into the hot bath, he relaxed until he was lying on the bottom, holding his breath and just listening to his heartbeat. It was quiet after the chaos of yesterday. He rose, slicking his wet hair back, and let the hot water relax his sore muscles as he sipped the water.
Half an hour later, he felt almost human again, as he toweled his hair dry and shaved. He made tea and toast, not sure how much his stomach could handle, and curled up on a squashy chair overlooking Diagon Alley.
All the busy people, bustling everywhere, such important things to do. He felt strangely detached from it all. Should he be more stressed about being suspended? Harry from a year ago would have been camped at Dankworth's door, begging for another chance. Now, he just felt kind of numb.
Idly, he shifted through a pile of books on a side table. Even though Draco had a bookstore, his flat was stuffed full of them. It reminded Harry of the books from the cottage that he still had Grimmauld Place. He really should give them back to Draco, but where would he even put them?
Harry's eyes scanned around the flat. It was really just one big room, with a bathroom at one end. A wall near the bed was completely built-in closets, packed full of clothes. There was a simple kitchenette along another wall, with a cafe table for two nearby. The bed was large and comfortable, with a cushioned headboard and many pillows. Every other bit of wall space was covered in tall bookshelves.
It was very Draco, the Draco Harry had come to know this year. It was a private sanctuary, not a space to entertain guests, and Harry felt honored to have such access to it. Everything here was comfortable and attractive, without trying to impress. Hardwood floors scattered with plush rugs, large windows that had nice views and let in lots of light, and furniture in a jumble of colours that seemed to work together somehow.
A book caught his eye, and Harry flipped through it. It was a coffee table book full of beautiful pictures, featuring highlights from around the world. A souk in Egypt, full of exotic goods. A waterfall in the tropics, with children splashing around in the pool below. A winter carnival with people bundled up in hats and scarves, pouring maple syrup on the snow.
A pale hand reached over his shoulder and yanked the book away.
"Hey!" Harry protested with a chuckle, reaching up towards the book. "Give that back."
Draco set the book down on the floor out of reach. "You can look at it later. I'm here now."
He sprawled across Harry's lap, leaning in for a good, hard kiss. When he pulled back, his blue-grey eyes were practically dancing with excitement. "Did you see the papers today?"
"Nah, I've only been up an hour or so," Harry grinned back, liking seeing Draco this cheerful. He looked handsome, wearing dark skinny jeans and a light green jumper.
Draco was holding some newspapers in his free hand, and he spread them out over his thighs so Harry could see them. Harry's smile dipped as he read the headlines.
Potter Potted! Behaving Badly With Boyfriend!
Malfoy's New Boy Toy!
When Good Boys Go Bad! Very, Very Bad!
Harry groaned, and pushed them so they slid to the floor. "Those are awful! What did we do last night to get in the paper so much?"
Draco shrugged, not seeming bothered at all. "Just a fun night. There's was quite of few photographers outside by the time we got thrown out of the third place."
Closing his eyes tight, Harry tried to remember. "Oh shit, wasn't that the place with the dance floor?"
"Right! You were dancing pretty energetically, and must have gotten overheated or something. The bouncer thought you took too many clothes off."
That explained the blurry picture of Draco wrapping a long coat around Harry, who was only wearing black boxer briefs and one sock.
Harry groaned and pressed his hands over his eyes. "Fuck. I'm never drinking that much again." He was too old for this type of shit.
"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Harry. We drank and had a fun night. Big fucking deal. Everyone will forget about it by tomorrow."
"Easy for you to say, since you are branding yourself as some anarchist bookseller, rousing the rabble as often as possible," Harry grumbled, shifting so Draco let him get up. "I'm an auror trying to launch a charity aimed at kids."
"A suspended auror," Draco corrected, with a smirk. "Look, no matter what your job is, you deserve to have fun too. And there's no fucking way I'm going to worry about reporters ever again. I didn't come back here to let them control my actions."
Harry could see the stubborn tilt to Draco's chin, and knew he was referring to the way they been in the spring. So worried about being out, and people seeing them together. It had broken them up before, and there was no way he'd let that happen again. "Fine. We will do whatever we want."
His answer pleased Draco, who basically launched himself at Harry, tackling him on to the soft bed. "That's the right answer. Now as a reward, you get me."
"Best fucking prize ever," Harry gasped, as Draco unzipped his pants and worked his hand into his underwear.
...
-A/N: Thanks for all the reviews & reads. I love getting all that feedback. :D