"I have news," Harry told Draco as the blonde joined him for dinner a few nights later.
"Oh?" Draco asked. Harry nodded.
"Ron and Hermione are coming here."
"Brilliant." Draco wasn't excited.
"My sentiments exactly."
"Do they know?"
"Yeah, I think so. And I think that's why they're coming here. There's really more room at The Burrow, but if the Ministry's informed them that you're here…"
"They'll be wanting to come and protect you. How cute."
"Are you upset?"
"A bit, but not with you." He pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. "When are they coming?"
"In the morning." Draco raised an eyebrow.
"That soon?" Harry nodded. "Well, then, I better get as much out of you tonight as I can. Merlin knows when we'll have the house to ourselves again." Harry laughed as Draco trailed his lips down his throat and across his shoulder, slipping off both of their t-shirts and unfastening Harry's jeans. They made love there in the kitchen, once in the sitting room, and three times in bed. Harry collapsed in Draco's arms, more satisfied than he could ever remember being. Draco watched him sleep, smiling at the peaceful look on his face.
Draco heard Ron and Hermione's arrival from his room the next morning. He smiled as he heard Harry laugh throughout the day and felt a sharp pang of jealousy that he wasn't the one causing that laughter. At dusk, he left his room to join the reunited trio for dinner.
It was a quiet meal. Hermione tried her best to carry on a conversation, but attempts seemed to keep falling flat. Ron didn't speak at all and his eyes never left Draco. The blonde, however, was on his best behavior. He smiled and laughed at Hermione's jokes, joined in the conversation when the opportunity arose, and even inquired as to how Hermione's parents were doing. She seemed impressed with him, and he caught her sharing a glance and a smile with Harry every so often. That made him wonder just what exactly Harry had told her. He'd have to ask him later.
They had wine in the sitting room after desert, Harry and Draco sitting together, a respectful distance apart so as not to arouse suspicion, and Ron and Hermione in the two arm chairs. Ron's glare hadn't faded from dinner. It was beginning to get on Draco's nerves, but he let it slide. Instead he thought of the brilliant sex he and Harry would be having the moment an opportunity arose. That'd be well worth a thousand Weasley glares. At midnight they parted ways. Ron and Hermione retired to the guest room at the far end of the hall. Harry slipped into Draco's room after the guest room light went out.
"You were well behaved this evening," he whispered, pressing kissing along Draco's throat as his stroked the blonde through his trousers.
"Did it all for you," Draco replied, hissing. "Though I have to admit—fuck Harry—Granger wasn't so bad to talk to. I think I might rather enjoy her company. Weasley seemed rather lacking, however."
Harry rolled his eyes, pulling his shirt over his head and beginning to unbutton Draco's. "Don't mind Ron. He's just being a git. He'll lighten up in a few weeks." Draco laughed. "Now," Harry growled, pushing Draco back onto the bed and stripping out of his trousers. He climbed on top of the blonde, straddling his hips. "Enough talking. I've wanted you to fuck me since dinner." Draco grinned. Harry muttered a silencing charm and a lubrication spell. Draco rolled them over and entered Harry in one swift thrust. Harry groaned, grinding his hips up and scraping his nails along the blonde's back as Draco's hips began to move. They didn't hear movement in the hall until it was too late. The door opened.
"Oy, ferret-face. Where's—Blood fucking hell!"
Draco rolled off of Harry and pulled the blanket up over them in a flash. Ron was staring at them, his expression rapidly changing from shock to horror disgust. He turned and stormed from the room. Harry groaned and pulled on his jeans. Draco did the same, following the brunette after Weasley. They found him in the sitting room.
"Ron, please, calm down," Harry said. Hermione had joined them by now and was looking from Harry and Draco to a very red and fuming Ron.
"Calm down?" Ron screamed. "Like hell! I can't believe you'd let him fucking touch you!"
"Ron, if you'll just let me explain—"
"What's there to explain? Have you lost your fucking mind? He's a fucking vampire!"
"I know what he is, Ron, but that doesn't—"
"You're a fucking fang-banger!" Several things happened at once.
Hermione choked out a scandalized "Ron!" and Draco moved in front of Harry, his fangs descending as he let out a warning growl. Harry gripped his arm tightly.
"Draco—" Draco shrugged him off, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Ron. Harry pulled him back, pressing him against the wall. "Draco look at me." The blonde's eyes were glued on Ron. Harry placed his hand on Draco's cheek, turning his face so their eyes met. "Look at me. Calm down."
"Harry, he called you—"
"Calm down." Draco closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, willing himself to relax. His fangs slid back into hiding and felt some of his rage subside. Harry smiled at him when he opened his eyes. "Thank you."
Across the room, Hermione was dealing with her own unruly lover.
"Ron, go to the Burrow," she demanded, pointing towards the floo.
"And leave you here with that freak?" Ron replied. "Fuck no!"
"Go!" Ron glared at her, then at Draco and Harry before he turned and disappeared into a rush of green flames. Hermione turned to the boys, her eyes full of sympathy. "I suppose we should talk about this."
"How long have you two…" Hermione began awkwardly as she and Harry sipped tea. Draco sat beside Harry, his arm around his shoulders almost possessively.
"About..er…a week or so?" Harry replied, looking at Draco. The blonde nodded in agreement, his eyes fixing on Hermione for her reaction. She only nodded and became incredibly fascinated with the carpet.
"I'm…I'm sorry about Ron. He can be such a git sometimes." Draco clenched his teeth, his anger returning as he remember Weasley's outburst.
"I…er…I don't even know what it was he called me," Harry admitted, "so I can't really say I'm offended."
"You should be," Draco hissed. He stood and rested his hands on the window sill, staring out over the dark back garden. "It was a vile thing to say."
"What was it? Fang-banger? What does that even mean?"
"It's a nasty name for people who sleep with vampires. They're whores. It's about as vile as calling someone a—" Draco froze, his face softening as he looked at Hermione, who was staring shyly back at him. He stepped up to her, kneeling and taking her hand. "I'm sorry—for all the times I called you a mudblood. I was a stupid, selfish child." Hermione shook her head, smiling.
"Already forgiven," she replied. "Don't worry." Draco smiled back and hugged her.
Ron remained at the Burrow for the rest of that week, and well into the next. Owls arrived daily, bringing letters to Hermione. She read them through, then through them away. She never once replied. Draco heard her arguing with Weasley through the floo early one morning when Harry was still asleep. He shook his head and looked down at the sleep man in his arms, brushing back a few stray hairs from Harry's eyes. He pressed a kiss to his forehead and held him tightly. He wasn't planning on losing Harry any time soon—not to Weasley, and not to anyone.
It wasn't until late the next afternoon that Weasley actually came to argue in person. Draco sat in the darkness of his room, wincing at the raised voices as they pounded against his sensitive ears. Weasley was screaming about how stupid Harry was, that he was insane to even let 'that thing' touch him. Draco bit back his rage. He didn't care that Weasley was insulting him, too. It was Harry's name he wanted to protect. Hermione tried fruitlessly to stop the boys from fighting. Draco listened closer as Harry's voice took over the shouting.
"I don't give a fuck what you think, Ron!" he screamed. "I hated Lavender but I didn't say a fucking word because you wanted to be with her. Why should this be any different? I want to be with Draco! I care about him! That's all that should matter!"
"How can you care about that fucking leech?"
"It doesn't matter to me what he is! I fucking love him!"
Draco gasped. The arguing voices fell silent. Could Harry really…?
He heard footsteps approaching his door. It swung open a moment later and Harry stepped in.
"Sun's going down," he said quietly. "And Ron's gone." Draco nodded.
"Can we talk first?" he asked. Harry looked at him, frightened and nodded shortly. Draco patted the bed beside him and Harry sat tentatively next to him. "Is…is it true? What you said to Ron. Do you really…?"
"Yes." Harry looked him in the eye. "I love you, Draco. And I realize it hasn't been very long and that you probably don't love me back and I'm taking a huge, stupid risk in saying it out loud, but—" Draco cut him off with a kiss, pinning him back on the bed.
"You really do talk too much sometimes," he whispered, nipping at Harry's bottom lip. "I love you, too."
"You do?"
"Of course I do."
"Thank god." Draco laughed and pressed his lips over Harry's again, doing his best to kiss away any doubt Harry might have still held.