They kissed in the alley just down from Grimmauld Place, desire playing havoc with their ability to walk. They were no longer slow, not sensual, not gentle, not tender. They were ravaged with lust, with a need that compounded with every passing second. Harry gripped Draco's hair roughly and considered ripping open his trousers and going down on him right there in the narrow passage.

Draco seemed just as desperate. He pawed at Harry hungrily, his hands grasping his buttocks and holding him so tightly that Harry thought they might split free of their clothes. He whimpered as Harry reached under his shirt and grazed his fingertips across his nipple.

"Come on," Draco suddenly seized his hand and dragged him to the sidewalk. He marched determinedly towards the house and hauled Harry up the steps. Harry pressed up against him as he fumbled with the knob and they both spilled eagerly into the foyer.

"Draco," Lucius snapped, halfway down the stairs from the first floor.

Draco jumped to attention and wiped the grin off of his face. "Father," he said in surprise. "You're still up?"

"I was looking for the kitchen for a glass of water," Lucius said distastefully. "Dreadfully thirsty from that absurd muggle feast."

"I can bring you some water, sir," Harry said quickly. The sight of the elder Malfoy had shriveled his libido and he was certain Draco had experienced the same effect. Draco turned to follow Harry down the hall to the back stairs.

"And where are you going?" Lucius demanded. "Shouldn't you be turning in?"

"Right," Draco said guiltily and turned back towards him. He slouched reluctantly up the stairs to his room.

Harry swallowed a sigh and headed down to the kitchen for a glass of water. Lucius was waiting for him in the hall outside of the dining room when he returned.

"Muggle foods are saltier than what you're probably used to," Harry said as Lucius knocked the water back.

"Indeed," Lucius deposited the glass back into Harry's hand with a regal air. "Mister Potter," he said after a moment's hesitation, "I want to thank you for bringing my son home in proper form. I had some concerns that you would permit him to bring a lady of poor standing back with him," he tilted his head meaningfully. "He does not always make the best choices when he is intoxicated."

"I took good care of him, sir," Harry reassured him, hoping the dim lighting was enough to conceal the flush that he could feel creeping up his neck.

"You have been an excellent host," Lucius added with the cool detachment of someone who doesn't want to appear too effusive. He took a breath and paused, as though he wasn't sure whether to say what was on his mind. Finally he smiled politely and said, "If they were alive, your parents would be quite proud, I'm sure." He flicked his eyes towards the stairs, "As a father myself I feel I can assure you of that."

"Thank you, sir," Harry was nearly speechless. Lucius turned on his heel and strode up the stairs without another word.

Harry returned the empty glass to the kitchen and turned off the lights around the house as he made his way back upstairs. As he topped the second floor landing Draco's door swung open and a pale hand darted out to snatch him by the wrist.

"Get over here," Draco growled and pulled him in roughly. He kissed Harry ravenously and urgently stroked his back.

The handle on Lucius and Narcissa's room rattled, sending them to opposite sides of the hall. Lucius poked his head out and glared disapprovingly at his son.

"It is time for sleep, Draco," he said sternly. "I will not wait around all morning tomorrow while you sleep off a late night."

"Yes, Father," Draco's shoulders sagged and he shot Harry a regretful look as he retreated into his room and closed the door. Harry bid the elder Malfoy goodnight and mounted the two flights to his own room.

Draco was right, his bed was too big for one person.

He awoke with his alarm clock and fumbled through his morning routine before heading down to start breakfast. He was tired, but privately he wished he were more tired, because that would mean he had stayed up late shagging. Instead he'd had to make do with a wank, which simply didn't compare.

He was just laying the bacon in the pan when he heard bare feet thud down the stairs. A moment later two strong bare arms slipped around him from behind and Draco nuzzled the space behind his left ear. Harry sighed and melted into his embrace, reassured that last night had not been a dream.

Draco gently turned him by the hips until they were face to face. His cheek still bore pillowcase marks and his hair was a wild, rumpled mess. But he smiled and the skin around his eyes crinkled endearingly when he did. Harry smiled back, still holding the spatula in his hand.

Draco leaned in and kissed Harry tenderly, nothing urgent, more like he was reassuring himself that he could. He withdrew and pulled Harry into a hug, and Harry could feel his nose in his hair, inhaling his scent. Draco moved his mouth down to his ear and his lips parted ever so slightly.

"Coffee," he whispered sensually.

Harry laughed and pushed him away, pointing with the spatula to the pantry. Draco retrieved the grounds and nodded with approval when he noted that the kettle was already on the stove and nearing a boil.

Per the previous two days' routine he manned the dumbwaiter controls and waited patiently in the kitchen while Harry served the rest of the guests. When Harry returned he was frying eggs again while humming and swaying a bit.

It was Harry's turn to press up behind him and wrap his arms around his chest. Draco pressed his hips back and swayed against Harry's groin, awakening the interrupted libido from the night before. He paused when he felt Harry's prick harden up against his arse, then spun around and swept Harry back to the oversized table in one smooth movement. He leaned Harry back onto the time-worn wood and laid on top of him. He was just as hard as Harry was.

Draco ran his hand up between Harry's legs, stroking his bollocks and cock through his jeans. Harry bit his lip to suppress a moan. It wouldn't do to have the diners just above their heads overhear. He responded in kind by running his fingers over Draco's satiny pyjama bottoms, eliciting a grateful shudder from the other boy.

Harry wanted to fuck, right there on the table. He was famished for it, and he was certain that fucking Draco fucking Malfoy would be fucking amazing.

But the eggs were burning.

"Draco," he said urgently as the scorched smell reached his nose.

"Bollocks," Draco released him and lunged for the pan. He caught it before it started to smoke, but the underside of the eggs were far too dark to be palatable. He chucked them into the bin and cracked four more into the pan. He shook the spatula disapprovingly at Harry.

"No more distracting me," he said.

"Me?" Harry squeaked.

"Yes," Draco said, pointing the spatula at his groin, "with that."

"Well I sort of can't help that," Harry laughed. "It's sort of obsessed with you right now."

"Patience," Draco said as he folded the whites in the pan.

They ate their breakfast with their feet intertwined beneath the table. Every nerve ending in Harry's body had become a compass and Draco was due north. He was nearly sick with desire for his blond schoolmate-

Wait a minute, was he the reason Harry preferred blonds?

Anyway, Harry could think of nothing without the thought of shagging Draco Malfoy on its heels. He helped his guests pick out appropriate outfits for the football game later and he thought about shagging Draco Malfoy. He shared a bit about what to expect at the match and he thought about shagging Draco Malfoy. They hailed a taxi and he thought about shagging Draco Malfoy.

The game didn't start until two o'clock so Harry decided to show them something to remember. He had the taxi drop them near an entrance to the Underground and led them down so they could experience the Tube. He had started them slowly on their first day, now it was time for them to really get a full-scale experience.

Narcissa shrieked delicately when the train roared into the station and Lucius wrapped his arm around her protectively. Gliese clung to Draco's arm with a mixture of fear and delight on her face. Draco kept his expression carefully composed but Harry could tell he was impressed. He hustled them on board and showed them where to hold on. Narcissa buried her face in Lucius' chest as the train fired down the track. Harry and Draco braced Gliese on both sides to make sure the swaying motion wouldn't knock her off balance.

The closer they got to their destination the more crowded the train became. Finally they were all pressed together near the door, a terrified knot of wizards amongst experienced muggles. Harry felt Draco grasp his hand beneath the crowd and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

When they reached their stop Harry shoved his guests out of the train without ceremony. "Piccadilly Station, everyone," he called over the rabble of crowd noise. It was Saturday morning so the place was already mobbed with tourists. But the way Harry saw it,, there was no better time to experience. They wanted a full immersion into the muggle world, and here it was.

He wondered if Dean would take guests to Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday. Probably not. And if Harry had really thought it through he might have chosen otherwise. But he hadn't. That's not how he did things.

They rode up the escalator to street level, first Lucius, then Narcissa, then Gliese, then Harry, then Draco. Draco slipped their hands together again, safe from view. Harry knew they had nothing to worry about among the muggles, but clearly Draco's family might have a poor opinion of their proximity.

Harry had to physically maneuver his guests out of the flow of traffic as they emerged at street level. Everywhere they looked they were bombarded by signs, not as garish during the day as at night, but still shocking enough to the eyes of wizards who wore somber colors and lit their homes by firelight.

They walked the line of storefronts, stopped into Boots so Gliese could finally see what a chemist's shop looked like, and dodged fellow tourists. Every time Harry and Draco lagged behind the others Draco scooped Harry's hand up in his. Once or twice he used an obstructed view as an opportunity to sneak a kiss. Harry's heart was overflowing with happiness.

They had lunch at a loud chain restaurant and then departed for the football match. Dean had purchased tickets in advance so they were able to enter straight away. It was West Ham versus Arsenal, so Harry warned his guests that it might get a bit rowdy.

He explained the rules as best he could but his guests were so ingrained with Quidditch that they kept getting confused. Draco was of the opinion that remaining grounded robbed the game of action and seemed a bit bored by the plays. Gliese watched the surrounding crowd closely and cheered when they cheered. Lucius and Narcissa sat straight and still as though they were attending a lecture, clearly not engaged.

Draco slipped his hand over Harry's whenever he felt he could keep it hidden. During a particularly boisterous outbreak of cheering he even leaned over and kissed Harry near his ear. Harry was a little more nervous here, where aggressions boiled over and tensions ran high.

In fact, tensions were already running high. He saw a few scuffles break out and security was starting to appear near the exits. Harry decided it was time to cut their losses and leave early. He leaned across Gliese and explained that they should go and the elder Malfoys stood up immediately, their relief palpable.

They slowly made their way through the rowdy throng to the exit. Unfortunately Harry chose poorly and they came out in the middle of a cluster of hooligans in Arsenal gear who were already starting to shove and cause trouble. And unfortunately Gliese had purchased a West Ham shirt and the team colors caught the rabble rousers' eyes. And unfortunately they didn't care one bit that they clearly weren't a group of people who were looking for a fight.

"You!" One of the tough guys shouted, pointing directly at Draco. "What are you looking at?"

"Who are these tossers?" Draco asked Harry with his classic superior sneer.

"Just keep walking," Harry hustled his guests along. He tried to keep his head down and not raise the ire of the growing crowd of angry men. He pushed Draco towards Gliese and pointed down the street. "Get them out of here."

Draco furrowed his brow but did as he was told, moving his Auntie and parents away from the crowd. Harry hung back and kept an eye out to ensure his guests weren't harassed or intimidated. He was shoved a few times, pushed around in the jostle of bodies as a few of the men made feints at each other. When he felt the Malfoys were far enough ahead, he finally turned to follow them out.

He was so concerned about getting his party away from the crowd that he didn't hear the feet running up behind him until they were right on top of him. And then everything went slow motion. Up ahead he saw Draco turn. He saw Draco's mouth open to shout. He turned and saw an Arsenal thug coming at him with fist raised.

Bollocks.

He couldn't quite make out what the man was shouting, but he did hear, "specky cunt," and then there was a flash of brightness and everything tilted. He heard Narcissa scream. He heard Draco shout, "Get them out of here!" And then there was a pop, darkness, a squeeze, and daylight again. Everything was blurry and his left temple was sending urgent painful messages to his brain, telling him something was wrong. A blond blur appeared above him and he felt strong arms lift him to his feet.

"Come on, mate," Draco's voice said in his ear. "Lets get you inside."

"I'm sorry," Harry said as Draco walked him up the stairs to the door. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Draco shouldered the door open and sat him on the bench in the entryway.

"Found them," a blond blur with Lucius' voice said from the stairs. He descended with two other blurs, who rushed to Harry's side.

"His glasses," Gliese's voice said.

"I'll go," Draco's voice said, and then there was the familiar pop of Disapperation.

"No!" Harry struggled to stand, but the Malfoys held him down. "He can't go back, you have to go get him."

"He has his wand, he can handle himself," Lucius said, sounding very much like the man Harry had fought during the war. "Hold still, your glasses cut your face." Harry touched his temple and felt a warm sticky wetness.

Lucius extended a blurry arm that Harry suspected held a wand. He murmured a repetitive incantation in a lilting cadence. Harry felt the pain in his head lessen, then evaporate completely.

"Come, dear," Gliese tugged him to his feet. "Lets get you washed up." She led him up the stairs and down the hall to the guest washroom. He sat on the edge of the tub and allowed her to scrub the blood from his forehead and cheek.

"He's not back yet," Harry said helplessly. He needed his glasses. He could Disapparate back to the stadium to get him, but he couldn't see where he was going.

"He'll be back," Gliese said gently. She led him to the drawing room and sat him on the sofa while Narcissa pressed a glass of scotch into his hand.

"It shouldn't take this long," Harry said urgently, hoping one of them would offer to go find him.

Just at that moment they heard the pop of an Apparation down in the foyer and feet on the stairs.

"Found them," the blur that was Draco said grimly. "They're pretty smashed."

"Oculus Reparo," Gliese said lightly and then pressed the frames into Harry's hands.

He hurriedly slipped them onto his face and whirled to look at Draco. The Slytherin boy was in one piece, but his hair was a mess and the collar of his shirt was ripped.

"There were a lot of people fighting," he said mildly, his tone at odds with the intense look in his eye as he searched Harry for signs of injury. "Are you all fixed up?"

"Yes," Harry said belatedly. He turned to Lucius and placed his hand over his heart. "Thank you, sir. My deepest apologies for not keeping your family safe."

"Nonsense," Lucius raised his eyebrow. "You were trying to get us out."

"It wasn't my intention to take you somewhere that could threaten your safety," Harry was wracked with guilt.

"We've survived worse," Lucius said pointedly, giving Harry a look that caused his remaining apologies to wilt on his lips.

"Well at least let me bring you some tea," Harry said weakly, then darted down the stairs to the kitchen.

He plugged in the electric kettle and assembled biscuits on the tray. He felt something bubbling up inside his chest that he really didn't want to release. It was an anxiety, perhaps even a panic, an intense reaction to risk that he had developed since the war. It wasn't that he wasn't brave anymore, he could be brave if he needed to be. But he was dreadfully terrified of the need to be brave, in a way he had never been before. He felt like a failure. The Malfoys, the fucking Malfoys had saved him today, when it should have been his job to keep them out of trouble. What bloody use was he, the Boy who Lived, if he couldn't even defend himself against a few muggle football hooligans?

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths as the kettle came to a boil. He had learned how to calm the anxiety, and he certainly wanted to be calm before he went back upstairs. He would not show this side of himself to the guests, no matter who they were. But especially not the Malfoys.

He heard the soft padding of stocking feet on the stairs. Draco descended and moved straight into his arms. He held Harry so tightly that he could hardly breathe.

"Don't do that again," Draco said roughly.

"Do what?" Harry gasped for air.

"Put our safety above yours," Draco eased up a little so Harry could get a breath. "We can take care of ourselves."

"I'm supposed to mind your safety," Harry protested.

"No you're not," Draco said firmly. "You're supposed to mind our entertainment. Protection is not your job."

"Did anyone see you Apparate?"

"If they did, they were either too pissed to remember or no one will believe them," Draco said dismissively.

Harry ran his hands through Draco's hair to smooth it down, and wondered if he should ask about his ripped collar. But he suspected Draco would tell him to bugger off and keep it to himself. So instead he kissed him gently and stroked his ear with his thumb.

Draco finally released him and walked over to the dumbwaiter. "Come on, then," he said impatiently, his hand hovering over the button.

"What is with you and that button?" Harry asked.

"It's the only worthwhile muggle invention I've seen so far," Draco said arrogantly. "It serves its function exactly as it should, and it does it well." He waited as Harry slid the tray into place and then pressed the indicator for the drawing room two floors up. "This," he said, "has shown me that perhaps muggles aren't all bad."

"The dumbwaiter?" Harry shook his head in wonder. "Really?"

They went back upstairs and served the older guests, then Draco went across the hall to change his shirt. Harry retreated to his bedroom to change his blood spattered clothes and find something appropriate to wear to supper. It occurred to him that it was the last night of the trip, and that by this time tomorrow the Malfoys would be departing. He wasn't sure what to think about that.