Here it is– the date! I fear some of it will seem ooc for Draco, but understand, his world has been completely turned upside down. He had to adapt or die. Literally. And he's had three years since the end of the war to become who he is in this fic. That being said, I hope you all enjoy their day together.

CaelynAilene– I feel like FF has been fucking with me too. Half the time I can't upload chapters when I want, or even get on my own page.

Pnulls– I hope this chapter hits you in the feels too :)

Yukino76– I don't know if it's Hermione or becoming an Auror, but I have to believe Ron would have matured some by now lol

Thanks also to Melanie, Marsh12, sjrodgers23, and Hufflepuff (btw, I'm one too) for reading and reviewing.

Sitting in a small cafe in Diagon Alley, Harry watched Draco as he meticulously poured syrup into each and every square of his Belgian waffle. He briefly wondered if that was one of those sweet little idiosyncrasies that would eventually become annoying ten years down the road.

Ten years down the road. Could Harry really see himself sitting at a cafe eating breakfast with Draco that far ahead? He shook his head. It was far too soon to think of such things. For now, he was enjoying Draco's OCD moment.

"How is your French toast?" Draco asked him.

"Very good. I'd ask you how your waffles are but you seem to be content to make art rather than eating them."

Draco laughed. "Does that bother you?"

"No. It seems like something Hermione would do, though. You know, I never really considered it, but I think maybe the two of you might have gotten on well, under different circumstances."

Draco's hands stopped cutting, for only a split second, then continued.

"And why is that?"

"Unlike Ron and me, you and Hermione have a sense of propriety."

"Are you calling yourself uncouth?"

"No," Harry chuckled. "But I'm not concerned about using the proper fork at supper, or whether or not the Prophet has made up an unsavory story about me again, or being shy about saying fuck in public."

"Something tells me Granger doesn't use such language very often."

"No, her vocabulary is far too extensive to resort to cursing to express herself." Harry laughed to himself. "Then again, perhaps your sense of propriety isn't quite what I thought it was. After all, you bought some rather racy toys for me, which, as I recall, you said you had for yourself."

A slight blush tinged Draco's cheeks. "I confess I only said that to get a reaction from you. And I had my mother's House Elf buy the toys in my place."

"To preserve the illusion of propriety, I'm sure."

"Of course. I am fairly resourceful."

Harry popped the last forkful of French toast into his mouth and swallowed. "So, will you tell me now what we're doing today?"

"First I have some errands to run, if that's all right with you."

"Yeah. Where to?"

"A book shop."

Harry smiled to himself. He didn't know if Hermione could ever truly get over the way Draco had treated her when they were younger. But if she could, she and Draco just may have enough in common to be friends. Harry knew it would be asking a lot.

When Draco held out his elbow for Harry to take, the last place he expected to end up was an alley way in Muggle London.

"I thought we were going to a book shop," Harry said.

"We are."

"But, this isn't Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."

"I know. Those places don't have what I'm looking for."

They rounded a corner and came out onto a fairly busy main road. Draco pointed ahead.

"The shops here are bigger and much more diverse than the magical ones."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He walked next to Draco, then followed him inside the two-story building. He'd never been a particularly avid reader, but he couldn't help be impressed by the sheer number of books. Hermione would lose her mind in here. Then again, she most likely already knew about this place.

He trailed Draco throughout the store, occasionally picking up a nearby book and leafing through it. As an Auror, he didn't have a great deal of free time. And when he did, he preferred to spend it in the company of his friends or out a pub listening to live music.

Draco had picked out something that looked to Harry a bit mysterious. Then he led Harry to the upper level toward a section in the corner.

"Is this a children's section?" Harry asked.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"These look like cartoons."

Chuckling, Draco took a book from the shelf. "It's called Manga. It's Japanese. And I suppose it is a bit childish. However, the content is anything but."

While he perused the shelves, Harry thumbed through the one Draco handed him.

"Actually, it goes from right to left," Draco told him.

"Oh." Harry started at the correct end and looked at the drawings. They reminded him an American show Teddy liked in which people kept their fighting animals in little red and white balls. About fifteen pages in, Harry came across explicit nude drawings of two men engaged in fellatio. He blushed and quickly closed the book. He tossed it sideways on the shelf and went to look for Draco.

He found him on the other side of the bookshelf with two more books in his hand.

"Draco," Harry whispered, "that's pornography."

"I warned you, for better or worse."

Harry bit his lip. It wasn't as if he'd never seen pornography. But normally, he was only interested when he was lonely and didn't have a live partner.

"Do you read this sort of thing often?"

"What can I say, I'm a romantic at heart," Draco quipped, then made his way to the check out.

"Wait, you have Muggle money?" Harry asked.

"I don't normally. I only go to the Ministry Exchange when I know I'm going to need it. When you took me to that Muggle pub the other night, I was unprepared."

Once they were back out onto the street, Harry asked, "What's next?" He was hoping their next stop wouldn't be a gay strip club.

"Um, the next stop will be quick. I promise."

Harry didn't even have time to ask where they were going before Draco pulled him into a vestibule and disapparated them away.

Harry took a deep breath and kept his eyes closed a moment. "I wasn't ready for that."

"My apologies. I had to act quickly while no Muggles were looking"

"It's fine. But please warn me next time." Harry opened his eyes and gasped. "Are we . . ."

"At the Manor, yes."

Heels clicked down the hallway. "Draco darling, is that you?"

"Yes, Mother. And I've brought . . . a guest."

"Oh." Narcissa stopped short at seeing Harry. "Mr. Potter, welcome."

Harry glared at Draco, but the man wouldn't look his way. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. Lovely to see you."

"Clara, tea please," Narcissa called.

A small House Elf appeared out of nowhere. "What kind of tea should Clara bring Missus?"

"We can't stay, Mother. I only stopped by to bring you the next book in that series you're reading."

"Oh, how thoughtful." She smiled as she took the book from him. "Are you going to explain why you brought Mr. Potter with you?"

Draco looked at Harry, then his mother. "No."

For a moment, everyone was silent. Harry glanced back and forth between Draco and his mother, trying to decide which one of them was going to crack first.

"Another time, then," Narcissa finally said. Draco had won.

Harry got the feeling they had similar showdowns quite often.

"I'm sorry Clara," Draco said. "I'm afraid you'll only be serving tea to Mother today. But I promise to visit again soon."

"Yes, Master Draco. Clara will have Master Draco's favorite biscuits." The little elf bowed and disappeared.

"You'll let me know ahead of time, won't you darling?" Narcissa asked. "And if you'll be bringing your guest."

"I hope to."

Narcissa looked Harry up and down, then smiled at him. She turned to Draco.

"Very well."

Draco kissed his mother's cheek. "We're off then."

Leading Harry out the door, Draco simply said, "Apparating."

Harry prepared himself and let Draco whisk him away to their next destination. He was surprised to find that they were in a small park by a pond.

"I should have told you to wear a warmer coat," Draco said. He took out his wand and cast a warming spell over them.

"What are we doing here?" asked Harry. "Not that it isn't a lovely place."

"This is where I come to mull things over. I enjoy feeding the swans."

Harry wasn't sure why that should surprise him. For some reason, he didn't think Draco would fancy animals. He was slightly taken aback when Draco dipped into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a handful of dried corn and oats.

"Give me your hand," he told Harry. Harry did as directed.

Draco pulled out another handful from his other trouser pocket. By this time, two white swans and one black one were swimming toward them.

Instinctively, Harry backed up. "Do they bite?"

"They can. But if it happens, it's usually by accident. Keep your fingers together, and cup your hand."

The first swan hopped out onto the grassy embankment, heading straight for Draco. He squatted down and held out his hand. The bird moved quickly, pecking at the food in his palm. By then, the other two birds were out of the water and also moving toward him.

"Hold out the food, so they know you have it," he said.

Nervous, Harry did as he was told, imitating Draco's stance. The black swan hesitated, seeming to size Harry up before nipping at the food in his hand. Though his instinct was to drop the food on the ground and move away, Harry figured if he could stand up to Voldemort, he could handle a bird. Even a rather large bird.

At first glance, the feathers appeared black. But on closer inspection, they were almost iridescent. The bright red beak stood out in contrast to the feathers. "They're beautiful," Harry said.

Once the feed was gone and the swans had given up looking for more, Harry and Draco sat on a park bench. Another couple had strolled along the path around the pond, and the swans were fervently swimming toward them.

"Do you come here often?"

Draco grinned. "Is that your best line?"

Harry shoved him lightly with his shoulder. "You know what I mean."

Nodding, Draco said, "Not as often as I'd like. I prefer to come when the cygnets are hatched. Although, the adults are a bit more feisty then."

"I thought I remembered hearing that your family's property has a lake with peacocks. Why would you come here, rather than there?"

"The peacocks all disappeared when the Dark Lord took over the Manor. Most of them left on their own. Though I suspect Greyback may have helped himself to a few of them. They never returned."

"Oh."

"They are quite graceful. Even more so than the peacocks, with those ungainly tails. The swans have a modest elegance about them. As if they don't even know, or care, how very exceptional they are."

"I suppose," Harry agreed.

"Not unlike a certain wizard I know."

Harry turned to look at Draco, but the other man continued to watch the birds. He suspected Draco might have been talking about him. But his own modesty wouldn't acknowledge it.

Draco continued. "I should like my patronus to be a swan, if I had one."

"You don't have a patronus?"

Shrugging, Draco replied, "Possibly. I've never been able to produce one, though. As far as I know, Professor Snape was the only Death Eater that could produce the charm."

Harry pursed his lips. "Wouldn't you want your patronus to be a dragon?"

"Oh, that's much to cliché." Draco stood. "Come. I'm getting a bit peckish."

"Where are we going now?"

"There's a bank of stalls near here."

"Muggle food?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't think we can find wizarding stalls in the middle of London, Potter?"

He offered his elbow and Harry knew they were about to apparate. They appeared in front a dilapidated building. Draco glanced around, then took out his wand. In a similar fashion to entering Diagon Alley, he tapped several of the bricks. An opening was revealed and they stepped through.

"I never knew this was here," Harry said.

"It's relatively new. There are places like this popping up all over as wizards are branching out into the Muggle world."

"You surprise me."

"I hope that's a good thing."

"Yes."

The walked along a cobblestone path that reminded Harry of a miniature Diagon Alley. Most of the stall were peddling food items. But there were some selling clothing or supplies. As they passed a chip shop, Harry inhaled deeply.

"Mm, that smells wonderful."

"Fish and chips, it is then," Draco said.

They ordered and found a small cafe table at which to eat. Though it was January, the magical bubble around the alleyway kept them warm enough.

"So, how did you find this place?" Harry asked.

"Shacklebolt. He recommended we former Death Eaters experience the ways of the Muggle-born. I suspect that's what many of the wizards here are. They want to live and work near Muggle relatives, yet still practice wizarding ways. It was a difficult concept for me to grasp at first. I don't know how you lived that way for so long."

"With Muggles?" Harry shrugged. "It wasn't the fact they were Muggles that was difficult. It was that they were horrible people. They only took me on outings when they couldn't find a sitter. And when they did . . . it doesn't matter. That part of my life is over. But I suppose if things had been different and I actually cared for my family, I might want to live near them."

"But why, when you can simply apparate wherever you want to go."

"Yes, but Muggles can't. They have to take the Tube, or drive. Or even fly on an aeroplane to get far away. And they can't get into Diagon Alley or other magical places on their own. Besides, London is a wonderful city, with so much to see and do, regardless of whether you're a wizard or a Muggle."

"Yes, this I know."

"Meaning?"

"You'll have to be patient. I don't want to spoil the surprise."

Harry smiled. "This whole day has been a surprise. I don't think anything could possibly spoil it."

Draco took out a pocket watch. "We've still got a couple of hours before we have to be there."

"Where?"

"Sh, I'm thinking."

Harry watched Draco as he appeared to be considering his options for killing time before their next stop. Harry could think of something to do. He didn't think Draco would go for it, though. But perhaps if he asked for forgiveness, rather than permission.

He reached out and turned Draco's head to face him. Public be damned, he kissed Draco, satisfying an urge he'd had since breakfast. Draco didn't resist.

After a while, Harry pulled back. He was becoming aroused and didn't want to embarrass himself, or Draco, in public. A kiss was one thing. An obvious stiffy was another.

"That was unexpected." Draco's breath was ragged, lips swollen. "I didn't take you for one to enjoy public displays of affection."

"You either."

"I was showing deference to you. Or, I thought I was. I've got it."

"What?" Harry asked.

"A way to pass the time." He reached for Harry's hand.

hdhdhdhd

"This isn't what I thought you had in mind," Harry said as they queued for a ride on The London Eye. "I'm getting cold."

"And what did you think I had in mind?"

Harry looked down at a small child standing next to them.

"I'd rather not say."

Draco chuckled. He put his arm around Harry and pulled him close. With all the Muggles around, they dared not take out a wand for a warming spell.

They entered a capsule with no less than twenty other guests.

"I'm sorry," Draco said. "This is much less romantic than I had imagined."

"Oh, I don't know. The sunset over the city is pretty romantic to me." Harry couldn't resist another kiss.

"Take care there, Potter," Draco whispered against Harry's lips. "You don't want to get me off in front of all these Muggles. I'd have to Obliviate them. And after they'd paid to see the sights."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Speaking of which, you must have exchanged quite a bit of galleons for today."

"I wasn't sure exactly what we'd be doing today, so I figured I'd better have a stash. Just in case."

"Well, I'm glad you did."

As the capsule rotated, Harry and Draco listened to the Muggles talk about the different buildings and attractions they saw. It was amazing to them how much Muggles could accomplish without magic. The lights all throughout the city were on, looking like a starry night below. Harry slipped his hand into Draco's as the capsule descended.

"This was lovely. Thank you."

Draco turned to face him. He looked like he was about to say something, but he merely squeezed Harry's hand.

hdhdhdhd

"There's one more place I'd like to take you. It's truly a special occasion. And, as such, we must dress formally."

Harry nodded. He had been prepared for this. Draco transfigured both of their clothing into what looked to Harry like Muggle tuxedos.

"This is awfully formal, Draco. Are you certain we won't be overdressed?"

"Quite."

Not that Harry was complaining, Draco looked mighty fit in his suit. They stepped out of the public loo and began walking down the busy main road. There was still a chill in the air, but Harry didn't care. People they passed took notice of the pair, and he was proud to be walking side by side with such an elegant young man. Perhaps Draco's wish to have a swan patronus was fitting.

Draco presented two tickets at the box office of a small venue. The building appeared nearly as old as some of the wizarding establishments he'd seen. Ornate wood carving adorned the doorways. Rows of seats were covered in red velvet.

An usher looked at Draco's tickets and led them to seats near the middle of the audience.

"The tickets were bought last minute," Draco explained. "Otherwise, I would have preferred the balcony."

"No, these are fine," Harry said. "Um, what is it we're seeing?"

"Do you enjoy opera?"

Harry didn't want to be rude, but he honestly did not. His silence apparently spoke for him.

"I knew this would be too much," Draco berated himself.

"You wanted to show me who you are. If this is who you are, then I want to be here," Harry said.

"What sort of music do you listen to?" Draco asked.

"At home I listen to the Wireless; Weird Sisters and the like. But if I'm going out to a club, I enjoy jazz."

"I beg your pardon? Did you say jizz?"

Harry laughed out loud. "Jazz," he repeated, putting emphasis on the a sound. "Haven't you ever heard of it?"

"My parents always listened to classical music. I've never really developed a taste for loud, raucous music."

"Jazz is fairly mellow. At least, the sort I like. But to be honest, I am a bit amazed you would go out of your way to see a Muggle performance."

"I find the lack of musical variety in the wizarding world appalling."

The lights in the hall flickered.

"It's going to begin soon," Draco told him.

"What are we seeing anyway?"

"Two sopranos. They'll sing a selection of arias from several famous operas. I couldn't believe the good luck of getting tickets for tonight. And by the way, don't applaud until the conductor completely lowers his hands. You don't want to be that person."

At first, Harry sat up straight, eager to hear something new. The first two songs were in another language, and Harry had no idea what they were singing about. Their voices were beautiful and clear, but when one of them sang something that sounded much too similar to a lullaby, Harry felt his lids get heavy. He wished it was over.

Clapping startled him, and he wondered if he had actually drifted off to sleep. He looked at Draco, who was looking back at him, his mouth a tight, thin line.

Fuck.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. He made an effort to sit up taller.

He managed to stay awake for two songs, which, in Harry's opinion went on forever. He carefully opened his playbill to see if he could tell if it was almost over. But he had no idea what song had been sung last. Not that it mattered. Some of it was written in Italian, some in French, and at least one in German. He closed the booklet and decided he simply had to suck it up.

Draco leaned over and whispered, "This is one of my favorites. It's from an opera called Lakmé. It's quite famous. The song, that is."

"Is it in another language too?"

"French. Lakmé and her servant are collecting flowers by a riverbank. Thus, the reason it's entitled the Flower Duet."

"Oh." Harry watched as the conductor raised his arms.

One woman sang, then the other, and both were pleasant. But when they sang together, Harry could understand why it was one of Draco's favorites. He even thought perhaps he had heard it before.

A couple of minutes into it, Harry turned, intending to tell Draco how much he was enjoying the song. But Draco was riveted to the stage, in the moment with the two women, experiencing the emotion that Harry was lacking. Perhaps it was because Draco knew the story behind it. And Harry just thought it was a pretty song. Draco's mouth gaped slightly, his eyebrows twitched, as if he wanted to be up there singing with them. As if they were singing only to him. For more than four minutes, he was lost to Harry. And Harry was jealous.

When at last the audience erupted in applause, Draco turned to Harry. And Harry could see a tear forming in the corner of his eye. It seemed to take a second or two for Draco to come back to himself.

"Did you like it?" he asked.

Harry reached up and wiped the small tear just as it escaped. "It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I mean, heard," he corrected himself.

The women curtsied, the audience stood, and Harry was glad it was over. Not because he didn't find the experience enjoyable, but because he didn't think he could contain his feelings for Draco one minute longer.

"I like you," he blurted out.

A woman in the row in front of them turned and giggled behind her hand.

"Sorry?" Draco questioned.

Harry blushed. "I said I like you. Now can we go home and shag?"