The next day Harry woke early and took a quick shower before descending to the kitchen and cooking breakfast. Part of the package deal was a full English breakfast every morning, served in the comfort of the dining room. It was his idea, and in fact he'd had to coach Dean a bit to bring his cooking skills up to par. Harry was quite an experienced cook, having made breakfast for the Dursleys for years before he finally gained his freedom. He found it quite enjoyable, although he did permit himself the luxury of using Molly Weasley's domestic spells to clean up afterwards.
He was flipping the bacon when he heard bare feet on the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder as Draco slumped into the kitchen in satin pyjamas bottoms, rumpled hair, and nothing else. Harry swallowed hard at the sight of his svelte chest, no longer the scrawny thing he'd been during their early days at Hogwarts. And of course there were his commendable arms that Harry had noted the day before.
Stop it.
Draco flopped down on the bench at the oversized table and laid his head in his arms. "Tell me you're making coffee," he moaned sleepily.
"It's on the stove," Harry pointed with his spatula.
"I can't function without it," Draco said forlornly.
Harry waved his hand and levitated a mug from one of the hooks at the end of the kitchen. He caught it deftly and filled it, then waved it over to the table. He landed it without spilling a drop.
"I saw that," Draco was slumped over as far as he could go without resting his chin on the wood. "Since when do you do wandless magic?"
"Since always," Harry pulled the bacon pan off of the burner before the meat could burn.
"Sodding Saint Potter," Draco grumped as he took a big sip.
Harry smothered a chuckle and loaded up a pair of trays with covered platters. He slipped a cosy over the teapot and arranged the cutlery. Draco hauled himself to his feet and strode pointedly to the dumbwaiter and pressed the button for the ground floor before Harry could do it. He nodded approvingly as the machinery rumbled to life, then returned to his seat.
"Are you hungry?" Harry asked.
"Of course I am, what kind of question is that?" Draco rubbed his face with his hand.
"The food is going up," Harry pointed out.
"Are you eating up there it down here?"
"Down here."
"Then I am, too," Draco's tone dared Harry to defy him. "I can't face those people this early," he added.
Harry suppressed another chuckle and went up to set out the spread of food. Lucius, Narcissa and Gliese were just on their way down so he served them and poured the tea. He retrieved the stack of Daily Prophets that Dean had shoved through the Floo and they each accepted a copy, probably so they wouldn't have to speak to each other. When they were properly sorted Harry returned to the kitchen.
Without asking he fried up a few more eggs and tomatoes and then made two plates. He slid a plate across the table and then sat down with his own breakfast. Draco tucked in as though he hadn't eaten in days.
"My mother would kill me if she knew I was dining without a shirt," he said around a mouthful of beans.
"I'll be sure to use that for leverage," Harry sipped his coffee.
"I hate to admit it, but you make a passable breakfast, Potter," Draco seemed a bit more awake now that he'd had some caffeine.
"I've had lots of practice."
"It's like a morning-after breakfast," he added. "Except without the bother of sex the night before."
"Since when is sex a bother?" Harry snorted.
"You've clearly never dated Pansy Parkinson," Draco closed his eyes as though pained. "Turned me off of the lot of them, I swear."
Harry laughed, and this time he didn't feel obligated to hide it.
Since it was Thursday they decided to visit Parliament. They paid extra to do the full guided tour, even though many of the cultural references and history were lost on them. It had often amazed Harry that muggle history had been excluded from the Hogwarts curriculum. How could they coexist if they didn't even know the history of their neighbors?
After the tour they saw the opulent chamber of the House of Lords, which stunned the wizards into silence, and then stopped in to listen to a House of Commons debate. Lucius was fascinated by the process, if a bit confused by the issue on the docket. He understood taxation, certainly, but things like petrol and modern military funding and urban infrastructure were beyond his comprehension.
Harry couldn't help wondering if he was making mental notes and thinking about a future attempt to overthrow the ministry. Come on, be nice, he told himself.
They were well past midday by the time Lucius was ready to leave, in spite of the fact that everyone else had been ready for hours. They found a lovely place to dine nearby and once recuperated decided what to do with the rest of their day. Gliese insisted upon visiting the palace, even though they were concerned about all of the walking at her age. She drew herself up regally and said she would not miss out on this "once in a lifetime chance" so they stopped arguing and went on their way.
It was a full day of tourism and by the time evening fell they were all worn out. They had supper at a stylish restaurant in the heart of the city, and to Harry's relief they were too exhausted to bicker the way they had the day before. After supper they headed back to the house on Grimmauld and the guests all gravitated to the telly in the drawing room.
Draco followed Harry down to the kitchen without a second thought and even helped him put together the tray of wine glasses and little nibbly treats. Once again he blocked Harry from switching on the dumbwaiter, insisting silently upon doing it himself. Once the older trio were served he followed Harry out into the hall.
"What's the nightlife like around here?" he asked.
"Are you interested in seeing a muggle pub?" Harry asked, immediately squashing the notion of taking Draco fucking Malfoy to The Magic Hat.
"Anything to get out of here and a break from them," Draco tipped his head in the direction of his parents.
"Will they mind if we go out and leave them here?"
"They won't mind, I'll go tell them."
Harry waited dutifully while Draco struggled to distract his parents from the telly. They waved him away in annoyance and he took that as an affirmative. He rejoined Harry in the hall and gestured to his clothing questioningly. Harry helped him pick out something a bit nicer than the jeans and t-shirt he had selected that morning and then picked something for himself. Nothing flashy, just a nicely fitted button-down and charcoal gray trousers. Draco had opted for mostly black, of course, but he'd at least selected styles that would fit in.
They exited the house and Harry led Draco to the nearby alley. Without asking he grasped the other boy's arm and Disapparated to the nearby pub district. They landed in the alley he usually used to visit The Magic Hat but he quickly led Draco across the street to a more traditional club. It was Thursday night so there was a line at the door and a bouncer approving entries. He walked up to the bouncer with a confident smile, and after a quick up-and-down glance he let both of them in.
"What was that about?" Draco asked as they passed through the entryway into the much louder club interior. "Did you know him?"
"No," Harry called over his shoulder. "If they don't like how you look you have to wait in line until there's room. If you look good, they let you in straight away."
"How did you know we both looked good enough to get in?" Draco asked.
Harry paused with his mouth open, and then arrested his first response. "I just did," he finally said. Draco held his eye suspiciously for a moment but let it go. They stopped at the bar for a pint and then scanned the room.
"It's more of a club than a pub," Harry shouted over the thumping beat. "But this gives you an idea of what muggles like. Fast, heavy beats, lots of dancing, lots of beer." He looked around at the crowd of dancers and indicated a group of girls in skimpy dresses and gobs of mascara. "Lots of talent," he added.
Draco's eyes slipped over them and kept moving. Harry realized he hadn't even asked him if he was in a relationship. He assumed the request to go out also included an interest in finding a hookup. Oh well, he could take care of himself like anyone else. Harry didn't see anyone interesting, not that he would do anything about it if he did.
A pair of girls approached confidently, one blonde and one brunette. The blonde cozied up to Harry and the brunette slipped her arm through Draco's. Draco seemed nonplussed by the familiarity. Harry knew what they wanted and raised a finger to the bartender for service. The girls ordered and then returned to him and Draco with drinks in hand. He wondered if Draco had picked up on the dynamic. It was too loud to talk so the girls tugged them over to a curved booth in the corner and slid onto the vinyl seat beside them.
"Are you from here?" the blonde girl yelled over the music.
"I am," Harry answered, "He's not."
"Where are you from?" the brunette girl asked Draco, trailing her fingers lightly up his arm.
"Wiltshire," he said shortly, his eyes locked onto her hand.
It turned out the girls were locals, and this was their regular haunt. Harry had figured that this was their usual routine, finding a couple of blokes and getting a few free drinks in exchange for some light affection. But if Draco played his cards right, he very well could get lucky. Harry wondered if he should pull him aside for a quick level-set about the situation.
The drinks came regularly once they sat down. Harry drank more than he probably should have, considering he needed to Apparate safely with a guest. Draco kept the pace, pint for pint, becoming more pissed by the minute. The girls were holding their own, putting away an impressive number of cocktails but still maintaining at least the illusion of sobriety.
Harry was exhausted from the day's tour of the political backbone of the UK. He laid his head back and closed his eyes and let the throb of drums wash over him. The blonde girl sat to his right with his arm tossed casually around her shoulders. Closing his eyes also afforded him a good excuse to avoid engaging with her physically, an idea he wasn't interested in even as a diversion.
When he felt his left ear caressed he didn't think much of it at first. He was just at the point where he'd drunk enough to feel blissful but not enough to feel overly emotional. The caress made him feel warm in his stomach and he smiled automatically. The fingers extended and ran through his hair, eliciting goosebumps down his arm. He opened his eyes and looked down, but the blond girl was busy texting on her mobile. He rolled his head to the side, and that was when he realized what was happening.
Draco had the brunette girl in his lap, his left hand under her skirt and down the back of her knickers. He was squeezing her arse as they snogged slowly and deeply. His eyes were closed as his mouth worked against hers. Her hands grasped his pale blond hair and stroked his jaw sensually. His right arm, however, was doing its own thing, stretched across the back of the seat, his fingers caressing Harry's ear.
What in bloody Merlin's ghost was he doing?
Harry's dulled reflexes didn't respond at first. He could feel what was happening, he could see what was happening, but he didn't know how to react. It was quite a lovely feeling, those fingers pressing gently across his scalp. And he'd admitted to himself several times that Draco was quite passable in the physical department. Possibly better than passable, actually. Handsome, really, if he really had to admit it to himself.
But what was he doing, and why? Did he think he was caressing Harry's girl's ear? Did he know he was touching Harry and not the girl in his lap? He had drunk a lot, anything was possible. As Harry woozily pondered the options Draco's right eye cracked open and he snuck a peek at Harry. He held Harry's gaze directly, no evasiveness anywhere to be found. There was no mistaking it, Draco knew he was touching him. What to do, what to do?
Suddenly the brunette girl lost her balance and slipped off of Draco's lap, knocking over an empty pint glass. Draco and Harry scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor, and just like that the moment was gone. The girls thanked them for a nice evening and slipped away into the crowd, probably on the lookout for more sober men who would buy them a few more drinks. Harry settled the tab and they made their way out of the club into the warm late summer air.
Harry was too drunk to Apparate and told Draco as much. They wandered up the street for a bit, then crossed and came back down. Harry didn't even think about passing The Magic Hat. Steve was working the door and called out to him by name as they drew near. Suddenly Harry felt stone cold sober. He was too scared to look at Draco. Would he notice that everyone in line here was male? Did he have a point of reference for gay bars in the wizarding community? Would he realize that there could be only one reason why the bouncer at a gay bar would know Harry by name?
"Hi Steve," Harry said weakly. Steve offered him a hug, which Harry felt he couldn't refuse.
"Coming in tonight?" Steve asked. "Colin's not on."
"No, sorry," Harry blushed furiously, first at the mention of Colin's name in front of Draco fucking Malfoy, and second at the fact that Steve knew what Harry's reasons were for coming around. It made him feel a bit pathetic.
"Who's your friend?" Steve asked.
"This is Draco," Harry jerked his thumb over his shoulder, still too mortified to make eye contact with his former nemesis.
"Alright, Draco?" Steve shook his hand.
"Smashing," Draco said drunkenly, and Harry hoped he was too pissed to piece together the clues.
"I'll see you around," Harry said quickly and moved down the walk. He wondered fleetingly if Steve would mention to Colin that he'd stopped by in the company of another man.
His head had been shocked into clarity, so he figured now was the time to Disapparate. He caught Draco by the sleeve and dragged him down an alleyway. He paused for a breath to make sure he was clear headed enough to make the attempt.
"That guy was nice. He knew you," Draco said suddenly. "How did he know you?"
"I come down here sometimes after doing renovation work at the house," Harry said as simply as he could.
"You've got a smart little muggle life here, don't you?" Draco was slurring a bit, swaying just slightly.
"Only part of the time," Harry's racing heart slowed as the adrenaline spike of being recognized faded away.
"I don't get out much these days," Draco frowned and blinked heavily. "It would be nice to get out and meet nice people."
"We should be getting back," Harry reached out and grasped Draco's arm.
Suddenly Draco surged forward and pressed Harry up against the brick wall. He propped a hand on either side of Harry's shoulders and stared intently into his eyes, his breath heavy with drink. Harry's heart froze, not sure what to do. Draco was so close, and he was peering into Harry's eyes as though he could see into his soul. His eyes flicked to Harry's mouth and he licked his lips, and instantly he had Harry's full attention. They looked at each other, neither one moving forward or back, although Harry didn't really have the option of moving back with the brick wall pressed up behind him.
He could feel Draco's breath on his face, he was so close, so close. But Harry couldn't trust his senses when he was pissed like this. For all he knew, this was a stance of aggression that he was misinterpreting in his inebriation. Draco drew closer, his nose nearly brushing Harry's. But how could there be any way to misinterpret this, Harry thought. Then again, what if he was wrong? The consequences could be dramatic.
Draco's eyes were mere centimeters away, the clearest, softest gray Harry had ever seen. If he blinked, he would almost bump Harry's glasses with his eyelashes. Harry begged his hands to stay where they were, to not humiliate him now. No touching, he told himself firmly. He would never live it down if he couldn't contain his urges.
Draco tipped his chin and moved closer, his lips nearly grazing Harry's. Sweet Merlin's pants.
Just then a pair of girls pelted past the end of the alleyway, giggling and shrieking as two boys ran after them with hands outstretched. Draco and Harry flew apart, their hands suddenly busied with their hair and clothes. Harry muttered something about getting back and grasped Draco's elbow in a businesslike manner. Then he Disapparated them directly to the alley near the house. Without a word they went inside and walked up the stairs. Draco went into his room and closed the door silently while Harry continued up two more flights.
He was grateful to those two girls for startling him back to his senses. When he thought about what he had almost done, the way he'd almost been unable to contain himself, he was terribly embarrassed.