Part II

Grimmauld Place was not the happiest house on earth. It had too much of a history. The very foundations of the building were seeped in darkness. Harry knew this, but he also knew that Ron and Hermione's fight was not due to the depressing house they all lived in. The fight was just a repetition of the one they had been having for the past three years.

"Why won't you even consider having a baby?" Ron shouted from one side of the table.

Hermione glared at him from the other side. "I have considered a baby. This is not a good time to have one."

Harry sighed and picked through his food. He didn't want to eat the dry eggs and soggy toast, but at least it gave him something to focus on besides the fight.

"Not a good time for who? I'm ready for a kid."

"Well, I'm not and since I'm the one that's going to have to carry it, I should think my opinion carries some extra weight."

"But Hermione, you wouldn't even have to take care of it! I'm basically the housewife anyway, so I could be a stay-at-home-dad. You could go right back to work."

Harry poked his eggs a couple of times and then stood and threw them away. They took turns cooking breakfast, and Harry had yet to go into work with a full stomach on the mornings Hermione cooked.

"And who do you think is going to nurse the child, Ronald?"

"We could feed it bottles!"

"Mother's breast milk contains important nutrients that no one has ever been able to mimic in a formula. I refuse to let my baby have sub-standard nutrition."

"You also refuse to have a baby!"

Harry sighed again and grabbed his cloak from a peg near the door. He walked over to Hermione and kissed her forehead gently, interrupting her rant.

"Have a good day at work, Harry," she said before she kissed him back on his cheek.

"Will you two be coming home for lunch?" Ron asked as Harry made his way to Ron's side.

"Not today," Harry said. "Neville asked me to test the wards on his newest greenhouse. Do you want to come too?"

Hermione shook her head. "I can't come home or go to Neville's. I have a meeting with my sub-heads that will last through lunch."

Ron frowned at her. "You're too busy. You shouldn't have to work through lunch." He hugged Harry and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. "Have a good day. I can't make it to Neville's either. Mum said she'll be over around lunch time for something or another." Then he turned back to Hermione. "Do you get overtime for working this much?"

Harry felt like he had been dismissed. He tried not to take it to heart, but as Hermione and Ron devolved into another fight, he couldn't help but feel a bit left out.

They've never even asked my opinion about whether we should have a baby… or adopt one. Harry imagined what their baby would look like. A baby with fluffy red hair and bright brown eyes. Or a baby with incredibly messy brown hair and dark green eyes. It's too bad all of our genes wouldn't be able to mesh. We could have a brown-haired, green-eyed, freckled baby.

Harry wouldn't mind having a baby, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to help with it much. Work was crazy, and his boss had been hinting that Harry might be getting a promotion soon, which would only increase his workload. Ron wouldn't be able to care for a baby by himself, and Hermione was far too busy trying to pass legislation to support the various creatures of the wizarding world to have a baby.

He passed through the house to the parlor, and then he tossed a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace. Stepping in he announced, "The Ministry of Magic," as clearly as possible and braced himself for the spinning feeling of Floo transport.

Harry staggered out of the fire at the Ministry. "Good morning," he muttered to the Floo operator once he had gained control of his body.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter!" she said as she waved him through the clearance ward. "You've a bit of dirt on your nose, sir."

Harry nodded and thanked her before heading towards his office. On the ride up the lift, he tried to wipe the smudge of ash off with his handkerchief.

Evidently, he didn't get it all because his partner burst out laughing as Harry entered the office.

"Look at you, Potter. Have you been sniffing at the dirt like a Niffler?" Draco asked.

Harry grinned. Once he might have taken that as an insult, but after working with Draco Malfoy for three years, he knew that it was simply a joke. He pretended to sniff the air, only to pause at the scent of food.

"Do I smell what I think I smell?"

"Yes, there are fresh blueberry scones sitting on your desk," Draco said.

"Thank you," he said, hanging his cloak up. "It was Hermione's morning to cook again."

Draco smirked. "I know. That's why I brought them. Why don't you just tell Granger you'll do the cooking for her? At least then you won't come in with your stomach growling all of the time."

Harry moaned as he bit into a scone. It was sweet and warm, and it practically melted in his mouth. He took as second to swallow and replied, "Hermione wants us to divide the housework evenly, as much as possible anyway."

"And how does that work? You two do as much as the Weasel, yet he is home all day?"

Harry knew he should scold Draco for calling Ron a name, but he was feeling charitable because of the scones. "No, not really. Ron foots most of the housework." Really, the scones were amazing. "It's some Muggle sexist thing Hermione thinks she's fighting. Ron and I don't get it, but we let her do it anyway."

Draco shook his head. "I really don't understand what you see in her. In either of them, really."

Sometimes I don't know what I see in them either. Harry felt bad for thinking it. "I love them. That's all that matters."

Draco shot Harry a sharp look. "If you say so." Draco flipped through some papers in front of him and pulled out a blue sheet of parchment. "Here's our assignment for today. Dawlish wants us to go investigate a woman's claim that someone stole her Blibbering Humdinger."

Harry laughed. "Is it Luna?"

"Yes, Lovegood is complaining yet again." Draco sneered lightly.

"She really needs to stop filing false claims just so I'll come to tea." Harry shook his head in dismay, but he was smiling. "She thinks the two of us are overworked you know."

Draco waved a pile of papers at Harry. "I wonder how she ever got that impression? Maybe because we are?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't think we are. We're busy but it keeps us from getting bored."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Only you, Potter. Only you."

Harry just grinned. He loved coming into work and sniping at Draco and being sniped at in return. Ron and Hermione fought with each other, but they never fought with Harry. It made him feel a little left out, especially because he really enjoyed the good natured banter he shared with Draco. He wished he could fit that into his relationship with Hermione and Ron too.

He flipped through Luna's report and took another bite of a scone. The morning had been a bit rough, but perhaps the day would be a good day after all.

Harry Apparated onto his doorstep, grinning happily. His day had been wonderful. Draco had spent all morning sniping at him playfully, and Harry had gleefully prodded back at him. Harry had then spent lunch at Neville's greenhouse, testing the wards for him but also eating a fabulous stew and talking about everything under the sun. He arrived back at work only to set out for Luna's house. Harry and Draco spent a couple of hours "discussing" her stolen Blibbering Humdinger and drinking lemon tea, which supposedly kept away Flitterbugs, whatever those were. Finally, Harry had gone back to work and spent some time filing paperwork before leaving for home. It had been a nice slow day, and Harry was hoping things at home would be equally calm.

Sadly, as he opened the front door, he realized that would not be the case. Hermione and Ron were shouting at each other again.

"Why the hell won't you let me work as your assistant, Hermione?" Ron's voice cried from their living room. Harry walked in that direction.

He entered the room just as Hermione replied, "I need someone with credentials."

Ron's face twisted up into a snarl. "You know why I don't have credentials. I was following you and Harry around during my seventh year! I can do the work, you know I can, so why won't you just hire me?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't make the rules. The job description requires a minimum of two N.E.W.T.S. If I gave you the job, it would be blatant nepotism."

"But, Hermione, I'm sick and tired of being stuck in the house all day. You and Harry go out and work and talk to other people and the only person I see is my mother. I tried to get a job, really, I did, but no one would hire me!"

Hermione looked annoyed. "George has offered you a job more than once, and you refuse to take it, so I don't want to hear your complaints." Ron looked as if he was going to speak, but Hermione cut him off. "And don't you dare say you don't want to be given a job out of pity because that's exactly what you just asked me to do!"

Harry finally stepped out of the doorway to intervene before they killed each other. "What's going on?"

Ron spun towards him. "Hermione's being a bitch."

Hermione gasped and then smacked him. "Well, you're being a bastard!"

Harry watched the two people he loved glare at each other, and he felt forgotten.

"Can we just calm down, please?" he asked timidly.

"Oh, stay out of it, Harry. You don't always need to be the peacemaker." Harry stepped back as though he had been hit with a physical blow.

Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice; their eyes were completely focused on each other.

Ron said quietly, "This has nothing to do with you." Harry took another blow to his heart.

Harry took a shuddering breath. "You're right," he said. "This has nothing to do with me. In fact, neither of you have anything to do with me."

They looked at him then, finally truly acknowledging his presence.

Harry glanced back and forth between them as he spoke. "I wake up in the morning and I listen to you fight. I come home at night and I listen to you fight. I go to bed at night and I listen to you fight. There's no reason for me to be here. You can fight without me. I'm not even a part of this relationship anymore."

"Harry, no, I'm sorry it's just—"

Harry cut Hermione off. "No. You two don't need me." He stepped towards the door. "I'll grab a change of clothes and then sleep at Draco's. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Harry!" Ron cried.

Harry shook his head and left the room. He headed up to their bedroom and grabbed the overnight bag he kept for emergency missions. He tucked a clean set of clothes into it and grabbed a pair of pajamas. Ron and Hermione watched him from the door.

"Harry, you don't have to leave," said Ron.

"I do need to leave," Harry replied as he pushed past them and walked down the stairs. He took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to calm down. "I need to get away, at least for tonight. You two need to get over your fight, and then I'll see you tomorrow after work."

Hermione reached out for him, but her hand missed his shoulder. Harry's steps faltered anyway. He looked back at them.

"I… I love you both, but I don't feel like you need me. I just… need a break, okay?" He smiled and pulled open the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."

Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We're sorry. We love you too, you know."

Harry looked at them. They were a perfect couple. Hermione was a few inches shorter than Ron, and they both had some of the most distinctive hair in existence. Ron held his arm casually, as if it belonged on her shoulders, and she leaned into his touch. Harry stood only a few feet away, but it felt like there was a wide chasm between them. His smile fell, and he turned away.

"Goodbye," he said softly and stepped outside. The door closed behind him; the click of the latch sounded final in his ears. He Apparated to Draco's house.

It wasn't until he knocked on Draco's door that he realized exactly what he had done. By the time Draco answered the door, Harry was trembling miserably.

Draco looked at him for a second and then yanked him into the house. "I'm in the middle of supper. Come join me."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, I'm fine… I—I'll go. I don't know what I'm doing here."

Draco snorted. "Yeah right. You know exactly why you are here. Something happened with Weasley and Granger, didn't it?"

Harry looked away. "I... can I not talk about it? Please?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's not my life. Just get your arse into the kitchen. You look like you are about to tremble yourself into pieces."

Harry dropped his bag in the hall and headed towards Draco's kitchen. "Can I help make anything?" he asked when he saw that Draco was actually in the middle of preparations for dinner.

Draco pointed towards his icebox, a wizarding accoutrement that Harry had never been able to convince him was outdated. If it had worked for hundreds of Malfoys before him, then it would work for Draco. The same idea applied to all of Draco's appliances. Thankfully, the wizarding versions of iron stoves and hand-pump sinks had never been quite as rudimentary as the Muggle versions. A swipe of a wand could set water to gushing from the antiquated faucet and the stove was heated entirely by magic with no physical fuel like wood or coal necessary. Draco's hand fell and he turned away, leaving Harry to wonder what exactly he was supposed to do.

Opening the door of the icebox, Harry found a pile of salad ingredients sitting on top of everything else. "You want me to make a salad?"

"Merlin, yes. Do I have to tell you how to do everything?" Draco drawled. His words were sharp, but his voice was gentle. Harry smiled at the sound. Draco had few social skills but he knew how to make Harry laugh, and that was much more important.

Harry grabbed the vegetables from the box and laid them out on the counter. He shuffled around Draco and reached for the chopping knife from the cutting block. Draco stepped backwards and bumped into Harry. The two looked at each other for a moment, their bodies pressed against one another, and then moved apart, Harry jumping away as if he had been burned. Draco moved a little more slowly, and Harry saw a small, almost sad, smile form on his face.

They worked in silence, Draco preparing a quick dinner of spaghetti with jarred sauce and frozen meatballs. Harry chopped up cucumbers, spinach and lettuce before dumping them into a big bowl. After rummaging around in the icebox for a moment, he uncovered some feta cheese. He added it to the salad, along with some dried cranberries he found in the cupboard. He dowsed the whole thing in balsamic vinaigrette.

Draco sneered at the bowl. "Went all out, did you?"

Harry shrugged. "I... When I'm stressed, I like to cook. You never have anything cookable in your flat...."

"Cookable is not a word, you plebeian. Moreover, it's not my fault that I used to have house elves that cooked for me. I was never forced to slave away over a hot stove like you." Draco dished up his contribution to the meal and set it on the table. Harry sat his salad down too, and then they set the table together. Harry pretended he didn't hear the longing note in Draco's voice as he said, "Though... I do have a cake mix in the pantry..."

"Give me a minute to mix it up, and it will be ready for dessert by the time we are done eating."

Draco's bright smile lit up the room, making Harry smile in turn. "Excellent! My oven doesn't seem to like me. My cakes always come out badly."

Harry snickered then. "I think it's more your fault than the oven's. It seems to me that you burn almost anything you cook."

Draco shoved him, hard, as he walked past him to reach the pantry. Harry rubbed the spot, certain a bruise would appear there by morning, but he continued to laugh.

Draco popped his head into what was actually a large cupboard and rooted around for a minute. "Do you want vanilla or chocolate cake?"

"Do you have any pound cake mixes?" Harry asked plaintively, thinking longingly of the sweet cream and strawberries he had seen in the icebox. They would make a sweet and light dessert when used as topping on the pound cake.

Draco stepped out of the cupboard. "I've got this angel food cake mix... though I don't think it's actually made of angel food... would it work?"

The utter confusion on Draco's face was adorable. Harry couldn't help but grin at him. "That'll be fine."

He mixed up the cake quickly and poured it into a pan. He made sure to set the timer as he placed it into the oven, not wanting to get laughed at if he burned the cake. Then he sat down at the table. Draco had already filled his plate for him, so Harry set to work eating. Their conversation moved along quickly covering topics from work to Quidditch to politics to food and everything in between.

It wasn't until Harry had finished up their dessert and he and Draco were sitting on the couch in the living room eating it and drinking a sweet white wine that he explained why he had shown up on Draco's doorstep so suddenly.

"...and then I left. I didn't know what else to do. It was like--like they didn't even need me."

Draco snorted. "Those two need you more than anything. If they would pull their heads out of their arses, they would see that you hold the relationship together."

"No, they don't need me. They've never needed me. They got together before I ever entered the picture. I was an afterthought. The only people who ever needed me were the people who used me to defeat Voldemort: Dumbledore, the Order, even Snape."

Draco grabbed Harry's hand, and Harry was startled to see a soft look on his face. "That's not true."

Harry frowned and tried to pull his hand away. "Yes it is. Even Ron and Hermione didn't want me unless they could both have me, as if I was a possession to share. I've never had sex with just one of them. I'm just... a toy to share."

Draco clung to him, squeezing his hand harshly. "You are not a toy. Shut up."

Harry yanked his hand free. "You shut up!" He stood and walked away from the couch, staring at the wall with his arms crossed. "Even you don't need me. I'm just your Auror partner so you're stuck with me." Harry's voice broke. "I heard you, you know. Right after we finished training, when partners were being assigned. I thought we were becoming friends, moving past the war, and I was glad that we had been matched up. But you stormed into Dawlish's office and screamed at him." Remembering how upset Draco had become, Harry found himself crying. He didn't care though. Better to cry over that than his failing relationship.

Draco stood. His footsteps echoed as he crossed the room to Harry. "I... it wasn't that."

Harry spun toward him. "What was it then? Why can't anyone want me?"

"I want you." Draco reached out and ran his hand across Harry's cheek, wiping away his tears. "I want you so badly, and that's why I didn't want to be partners."

Harry didn't know what he was talking about. He understood Draco not wanting to be partners because he hadn't liked him but... "I wanted you for a partner because I thought you understood me."

Draco's smile was sad. "I did—do—understand you. You've never understood me though." He leaned closer to Harry. "I want you, idiot."

As he pressed a kiss to Harry's lips, Harry realized what he meant. It was a soft, chaste kiss, and it ended quickly, but suddenly things made sense to Harry.

"Oh."

"Yes, oh," said Draco.

Harry shook his head. "I can't. I--I'm sorry. Hermione and Ron..."

Draco kissed him again lightly. "I know," he murmured against Harry's lips. "I want you to be happy. That's why I'm only going to say this once. They need you, and they love you. If you want to fix your relationship, you need to go do it now."

"I told them I'd be back tomorrow--"

"No, now."

Harry looked at Draco, hard. He could see affection on the man's face, and he wondered how he could have missed it this whole time. Draco would love him completely, Harry knew, but he wasn't sure if he could give up Ron and Hermione. "I... You mean a lot to me, Draco."

"But not as much as they do," Draco said sadly. "So you need to go to them."

"All right, I'll go."

Harry turned to leave, but Draco reached for him, his hand grabbing Harry's shoulder harshly. "If you come back tonight... I won't let you leave again."

Draco's threat made Harry feel warm. He didn't want to lead his friend on, but it was nice to know that Draco wanted him. He simply nodded and continued toward the door, picking up his bag as he passed it. "Goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry walked out of the door and through the Apparition words of the house and then Apparated straight into his own living room. "Hello? Anyone home?"

He couldn't hear anyone in the house, but he dropped his bag on the couch and continued up the stairs. "Ron? Hermione?"

A bang from their bedroom told Harry that someone was home. He smiled and pushed open the door, ready to apologize for storming out earlier when the words died on his lips.

Ron and Hermione were intertwined on the bed, in the same position Harry had first seen them in all those years ago.

"Ron..." Hermione sighed as he kissed her neck.

Harry watched the two of them rock together, calling out each other's names. Neither of them noticed Harry in the doorway.

Ron stiffed suddenly. "I love you, Hermione!" he shouted, the same phrase Harry had heard him say many times before in bed. This time though, it wasn't followed with "I love you, Harry," too.

Hermione captured Ron's lips with her own, the two of them lost in their own world, and Harry backed out of the door. Closing it softly, he slumped to the floor. In the three years of their relationship, they had never had sex without all three of them being there. Yes, they had done some foreplay and more than once one of them had participated through the Floo because they were out of town, but Harry had never done anything with one of them without the other one knowing about it.

Apparently, they hadn't had the same consideration for him. He wondered if this was the first time that they had done something without him. Memories of long lonely nights on missions plagued him. They had probably spent those nights together, just as they had during the long months of camping. Harry had never felt so alone in his life.

A thought occurred to him though, and he Apparated away, not worrying about whether the pop of his Apparition would startle the two lovers.

Draco looked up at him when he flung the door open. "I hoped you'd come back," he whispered before Harry's lips claimed his.

Harry knew it was wrong to do this to Draco, to pretend that he had feelings for him when all he really wanted was for someone to need him, but he didn't care. He could come to love Draco, he hoped. Hermione and Ron though... he loved them with all of his heart. He wanted them to be happy. If that meant giving up his own happiness so they could be together, just the two of them, then that is what he would do. Tomorrow, he would go to them and tell them he was leaving.

Tonight though... "Take me to bed," he murmured huskily. Tonight, he was going to live in the present. Tonight, he would forget the past. Tonight, he would be wanted.