Harry was drunk. Again. He hunched over his pint and swayed morosely as his friends jostled and chatted around him. It was Friday at the Leaky Cauldron again and Harry was here instead of The Magic Hat, waiting for Colin to finish up with his shift.
"Alright, mate?" Ron asked, elbowing Harry in the side. He knew all about Colin. He didn't like Colin. Nobody liked Colin, even though they'd never met him.
"Great," Harry said back, putting on a falsely happy face.
"How's Colin?" Ginny asked with a frown, exchanging a knowing look with Dean.
"Great," Harry repeated with the same falsely happy face.
Harry's sexual preference was known amongst all of his friends now. The last few months had been rough, and Harry had blurted the information out at their first Friday outing after the Malfoys' trip. Everyone had been fine with it, and in fact Ginny seemed a bit relieved now that she thought back on their brief relationship, but it had made his friends a bit too interested in the goings on of his lovelife. He hadn't meant to tell them about his on-again-off-again muggle boyfriend, but it had come out just like everything seemed to come out when he was pissed.
In fact, the only information he'd managed to keep to himself was the fact of his brief dalliance with Draco Malfoy, which he'd managed to stuff so far down inside that he hardly thought about it anymore.
Except for all of those times when he did think about it.
Business was going well, particularly since the Daily Prophet finally figured out what Harry Potter was really up to these days. They had run a full spread about his business and suddenly they were booking weeks in advance for London trips. He and Dean had gotten into a good schedule of alternating trips, no matter what kind or how many days. Harry felt better because it meant Dean had taken some hard ones and Harry no longer felt he was cherry-picking the best trips for himself. But every time he set out on a trip and arrived at Grimmauld Place, every time he got up early to make breakfast, every time he used that sodding dumbwaiter, he thought of Draco.
The house was practically haunted by his memories of those five days. Five measly days and he could barely face the house without sharp pangs in his chest. It had been better recently, but now that it was approaching Christmas he was thinking about him again. Because the semester would be ending soon and he would be back home. And then what? And then nothing, he thought.
His friends had caught his change in mood. They'd noticed he'd withdrawn, that his temper was a bit shorter, that he wasn't interested in the Christmas spirit. They blamed Colin. Colin, who had taken Harry back with the agreement to be "semi-exclusive," which meant he could still fool around with whomever he chose, but if Harry came around he got first dibs. In his pain over losing the boy he wanted, he had run back to the boy who didn't want him, not the way he wanted to be wanted.
Harry had even resorted to using Draco's name in vain to get his way. He lied blatantly, mentioning him around Colin when he felt like he needed leverage. If Colin didn't want to go out, Harry would wonder aloud whether Draco was available. If Colin paid too much attention to another man at the pub, Harry shared false stories of Draco's affections. Their whole semi-relationship was built around a structure of lies about Draco Malfoy.
Which, to be honest, made it even harder not to think about him.
The whole world seemed to conspire to keep Draco on his mind. At that moment at the Leaky Cauldron, his friends were giggling mercilessly about a feature in the Daily Prophet gossip column about the top five most eligible wizard bachelors, of which Harry had been granted the first slot. It turned out his meager business venture sounded romantic to the general public, which somehow upped his eligibility, in spite of the fact that he was still sharing a small flat above the shotgun storefront between the milliner and the owl healer.
"Ooh la la," Neville fluttered his eyelashes mockingly as Luna read the paper's argument for his desirability.
"Who else is on the list?" Ginny asked, hooking her finger over the edge of the paper and having a peek.
"Oh here's one," Luna smiled placidly. "Number four, Draco Malfoy."
"What?" Ron squeaked. "Since when is a Death Eater an eligible bachelor?"
"It says his family has worked hard to rebuild their name by supporting many charities," Luna scanned the column for factoids. "He's also in law school now."
"Oh that's rich," Dean snorted.
Harry buried his face in his pint, wondering if he could literally drown in it and put himself out of his misery.
"It says this might be the only year he appears on the list," Luna added with an intrigued lilt. "Apparently he's been linked with Astoria Greengrass and the Prophet expects them to be married by this time next year."
Harry's head swam. He slumped over and lost his balance, toppling like a ragdoll to the floor. His friends jumped up to help him but his ears were too full of static to hear what they were saying. He laid on the floor, looking up at the rough hewn beams that supported the ceiling of the Leaky Cauldron and he smiled. His friends formed a ring around him, trying to elicit a response. Hermione looked angry, Luna looked worried, Ginny looked scared. And the boys, Ron, Neville and Dean, they looked annoyed. And Harry just smiled.
He wondered whether Colin was free tonight. And then he passed out.
His mind had become a camera, taking snapshots and storing them away. A shot here of Ron and Dean hoisting him to his feet. A shot there of Hermione shouting directions as they lost their grip. A shot of the cobblestone road as he lay slumped and lifeless. A shot of Ron carrying him by his arms and Neville carrying him by his legs towards P&T Muggle Adventures.
When his brain kicked back into record he was lying in his bed, still fully clothed with the blanket tucked up under his chin. His friends crowded around him in the small space, their faces lit by the single lamp on the bedside table.
"Harry," Hermione was saying gently. "Talk to us."
"What's wrong, Harry," Dean asked. He was the only one who was seated. He'd brought in a chair from the dinette set and had set it near the head of the bed.
"Draco," Harry croaked.
"What?" Hermione frowned.
"I hooked up with Draco Malfoy," Harry said weakly, pushing up his glasses and covering his eyes in humiliation.
"When? When you took them on holiday?" Dean sounded surprised. "You hooked up with a guest? And you accused me of fooling around with those girls!"
"I know," Harry moaned miserably. "It should have never happened. But it did."
"And?" Hermione knew there was more to the story. Harry knew that tone well.
"And nothing," he sighed. "The trip ended and he left."
"And?"
"And I thought maybe there was more to it than he did," Harry's voice hardened. "He left to study abroad and told me not to wait for him. And I didn't, but Colin doesn't care about me, and I'm pining over Draco fucking Malfoy, and he's getting married to Astoria fucking Greengrass." It all tumbled out in a rush.
"But it was just a hookup," Ron sounded confused. Harry wished he could bury himself under the covers.
"It wasn't a hookup," Luna said knowingly. "Not for Harry."
"Then maybe it wasn't for Malfoy, either," Neville added hopefully. "These things are rarely one sided."
"They're always one sided for me," Harry said bitterly, finally dropping his hand and glaring at his friends. "I know I've said I'm okay with this semi-exclusive thing with Colin, but I'm not. It's just," he had to pause as a lump threatened to swell up in his throat. "It's all I can get. It's all I'm worth."
"You need to break up with Colin," Hermione said angrily. "You've let him destroy your confidence."
"We were exclusive," Ginny said gently as she sat on the edge of the bed. "I thought you were worth it."
Harry couldn't fight it back, not with a belly full of drink and Ginny looking at him in that sorrowful way. His face crumbled and the tears he'd crushed down since August came spilling out. Ginny folded her arms around his head and drew him to her, shushing and rocking him like a baby.
He was vaguely aware of the rest of his friends filing out as Ginny held him and comforted him. Eventually she sat him up straight and took his face in her hands.
"You are worth more," she said firmly. "You are worth more, Harry Potter." She removed his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her shirt, then slipped them back onto his face. "You know, it always bothered me that people called you The Boy Who Lived. It makes your life sound like its only about one moment. I always thought they should call you The Boy Who Lives, because you're still here and you have so much more ahead of you. You can't give up so easily. And you shouldn't settle for something that isn't right just because it feels safer than being alone. You're worth so much more than that."
"Thank you, Ginny," he tried to give her a brave smile.
"Will you break up with Colin?" she asked.
"Yes," Harry didn't mention that it would hardly constitute a breakup. "I don't even really like him," he laughed ruefully.
But his friends were right, he had let himself get wrapped up in something that wasn't good for him. He had gotten wrapped up in it when he was first figuring out who he was. And he was just getting healthy about it, just getting his confidence back when Draco came along. He got a glimpse of what a relationship could be like with someone who really reciprocated when it all came to a sudden and startling end. And when he left Harry had descended back into Colin's grip, where every moment spent with him eroded his confidence just a little bit more.
"If Draco came back," Ginny wondered. "Would you still want to be with him?"
Harry nodded miserably.
"Then maybe you need to tell him that," she suggested.
"No," Harry shook his head vigorously. "He's the one who said he wouldn't ask me to wait."
"Is that what he said?" she looked surprised. "Did he tell you not to wait or did he say he wouldn't ask you to wait? Because those are two different things."
"He said," Harry frowned. What exactly had he said? "He said he would be gone for four months and he didn't want me to feel like I had to wait for him."
"Oh Harry," Ginny's eyes welled up. "He wasn't breaking up with you, he was giving you a way out if you didn't want to stay."
"What?" Harry sat up, and stared at her intensely. "No, that's not it. He said-" he stopped and ran the conversation over in his head again.
"Harry," Ginny grasped his hands in hers. "He didn't break up with you, you broke up with him."
The epiphany hit Harry like a Cruciatus Curse. First it was a pain in his chest, then an ache in his stomach, then his head hurt. He remembered the way Draco's eyes had reddened at their goodbye. Now he realized he had probably seemed cruelly cold, detached and disinterested.
Bloody Merlin. He had done to Draco what Colin had done to him.
He knew he was still too pissed to do anything about it right away. So he slept it off and the next morning he composed a letter to send by owl. He couldn't be sure where Draco was, so he simply directed it to Malfoy Manor. Knowing it could be read by his parents, he chose to keep the note simple and neutral.
What he wanted to say was:
Dear Draco fucking Malfoy - Please come back, you sodding prat. I miss your mouth. Love, Saint bloody Potter
What he wrote was:
Draco - Please visit P&T Muggle Adventures when you return from your travels. Sincerely, Harry Potter
Three days passed before he heard back. In that time he took a nice couple on a weekend tour of London and worked with Dean to develop a holiday package. When he returned to Diagon Alley Dean had a letter waiting for him.
To Mister Potter: We received your letter to Draco and wanted to inform you that we do not currently have any information on his intended date of return. If he chooses to return for winter break we will be certain to pass your note along to him. Happy Christmas, Narcissa Malfoy
Harry's heart sank. It sounded like he might not return at all. Which would be terrible, because he had no way to know how to find him in Europe.
He went cold turkey from Colin. He ended it by text message during his last trip muggle-side and he successfully ignored all of his return calls and texts. It helped that he had the support of his friends. He felt better than he had in ages. It was amazing what a difference it made to know he deserved better. To truly know he deserved better, rather than wishing he did.
He thought about it a lot as Christmas drew near. He decided it was okay to want a relationship. That it was okay to want to settle down at nineteen. But trying to force-fit a relationship with someone who didn't want it was not the road to happiness. So he found a place of balance with it. He was with no one for now. No washroom hookups, no bathroom blowies, and certainly no contact with Colin. It meant he'd had to give up The Magic Hat, but he thought maybe that was for the best, too.
And when the right person came along, then it would be right. No self-doubt, no nausea and anxiety, it would just fit.
And yes, maybe he had found someone like that already, and maybe he had screwed up and driven him away because he had needed to be the rejector instead of the rejectee. And that was a regret he would have to learn to live with. But he would learn to live with it with support from his friends.
And besides, as Hermione pointed out, if Draco was really marrying Astoria Greengrass, he couldn't have been very gay to begin with. Harry doubted her logic, but he liked her thinking. It made the whole thing hurt less.
P&T Muggle Adventures was busy during the second half of December. Their holiday package was a two night stay with an emphasis on seeing the various Christmas lights strung around the city's tourist centers. They were booked solid, and even ran a few bookings overlapped, with one group staying on the second floor and one group staying on the third. Still no honeymooners, though. Harry wondered if Draco had been right about that one.
They finally got a break in the middle of the week just before Christmas eve. They had deliberately blocked out Christmas itself so they could spend time with family, or in Harry's case, the Weasleys. And actually, Dean would be attending Christmas at the Weasley's, too, thanks to Ginny's insistence. Harry wondered if every wizard's path eventually lead through the Burrow.
The night before Christmas Eve Harry headed over to Twelve Grimmauld Place with a host of cleaning supplies for the few tasks Mrs. Weasley's charms couldn't do. He set the kitchen to scrubbing, got the bathrooms going, Scourgified the floors, walls and windows, and was in the middle of re-sorting the clothing racks in the dressing room when he heard Dean call through the Floo.
"Harry! Are you there?" Dean's voice shouted across the hall.
"Right here," Harry darted into the drawing room with an armful of ladies' dresses. "What do you need?"
"We have a last minute booking," Dean said, his face emerging just above the glowing embers. Harry wondered fleetingly if he would get cell reception if he stuck his arm through the Floo.
"For when?"
"For tonight and tomorrow night," Dean said, his voice hopeful.
"But that means doing a group on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day," Harry pointed out.
"I know," Dean said apologetically. "But we can charge a premium for that."
"Are you volunteering to give up your holiday?" Harry snorted. "Of course not, otherwise why would you be calling instead of just booking it."
"Would you?" Dean asked. "I've got to be at the Burrow for Ginny."
"Your Christmas is more important than mine?" Harry was reminded of his annoyance over the pretty witches during the summer.
"No," Dean sounded frustrated now. "I just really think we should take this booking. Please, mate. I'll make it up to you."
"Fine," Harry said flatly. "Make sure you charge them through the nose, though. And tell Mrs. Weasley that I'm sorry I won't be able to attend."
"She'll understand," Dean said quickly. "Thank you."
"When are they arriving?"
"Any minute now," Dean said. "Are you all set over there?"
"I suppose so," Harry frowned. "I'm a bit light in the pantry but I can manage."
"I'll send him through as soon as he gets here," Dean said quickly, then withdrew from the Floo.
Harry grumbled and went back to his sorting. The last guests had jumbled up all of the clothing so the menswear and the eveningwear and the children's clothing were all mixed up. He was kneeling in front of a pile of trousers when something odd tickled his memory.
"I'll send him through as soon as he gets here."
That was an odd way to say it, Harry thought. He was certain Dean had said it was a group. Of course it was a group, no one went on a muggle adventure by himself. He must have misspoken. He scooped up a stack of floral dresses and started hanging them in a row from one of the racks. Unless he hadn't misspoken, in which case someone was coming to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day by himself in London. Or rather, not by himself, with Harry. What kind of person would do that?
Don't get your hopes up. Don't do it.
He heard the telltale whoosh of the Floo and he froze, rooted to the spot, too afraid to go see who it was.
"Harry?"
Oh. Hold on, there. Don't get your hopes up.
"Harry, are you here?"
A figure appeared in the doorway. Neat blond hair styled perfectly in place, long black double-breasted coat with epaulettes and brass buttons, crisply shined black leather shoes that looked like they had never seen an inch of snow. And a smile that crinkled at the corners of his eyes.
"Hi."
Harry dropped the armful of dresses and ran to him. Draco swept him up in his arms and hugged him furiously. Harry laughed, because how could he not laugh?
"What are you doing here?" Harry gasped with the only air remaining in his lungs.
"I just got back," Draco said into his shoulder. "I came straight away."
"Did you get my letter?"
"No," Draco released him just enough to look at him with confusion.
"Oh," Harry shrugged. "I sent a letter."
"What did it say?"
"It said to come by," Harry smiled.
"Ah," Draco nodded. "Well I came by."
"Good."
Draco's eyes were the softest, clearest gray. He was still smiling, but there was something hesitant in his body language, something that needed permission but couldn't ask. Harry remembered the way he had pushed Draco away when they'd said goodbye and knew he had put that hesitation there between them.
"Draco," he said softly, still clinging to the other boy like he might try to leave again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left things the way I did."
"It was my fault," Draco shook his head. "I've thought a lot about it over the last few months. I made you think I was saying I didn't want you."
"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," Harry insisted. "And I shouldn't have said what I said."
"Well," Draco cocked his head. "Maybe we're both just pants at this sort of thing."
"Maybe so," Harry laughed. He searched Draco's eyes for an invitation and finally simply had to ask, "Can I kiss you now?"
"You may," Draco said haughtily as Harry closed the distance between them.
Harry kissed Draco with the pain and fire of four months of yearning. All of the anxiety and stress and sorrow he'd been carrying around in the pit of his stomach dissolved and washed away. Draco kissed him back with the same intensity, the same agony of distance, the same powerful desire that had been so rudely interrupted when they were forced to return to their real lives. Here in twelve Grimmauld Place the past four months could fall away. They could start exactly where they had left off, because their real lives hung suspended on the other side of the Floo.
Harry's hands moved on their own. They unbuttoned the long, heavy coat and pushed it back from his shoulders. He kissed Draco deeply as his fingers explored the black cashmere sweater that simply had to come off. And why in Merlin's name was he wearing another shirt under that sweater? How many layers did he need, anyway?
Draco pushed Harry's sweater vest up over his head and fumbled with the buttons of his oxford shirt. He broke off from kissing and furrowed his brow as the third button refused to slip free. Finally he yanked and the button popped off, clattering across the floor.
"That's why Reparo exists," he muttered, then seized Harry's mouth in another kiss as he worked the remaining buttons.
Harry walked him backwards towards the door, and then drew him by the hand up three flights of stairs to the top floor. Their pace quickened as they reached Harry's room and the last stretch was a mad dash to the bed. Draco pressed Harry to the mattress and finally stripped his shirt free, then went to work on his trousers. Harry yanked Draco's undershirt off and moaned gratefully at the sight of his lithe, muscled chest. He'd dreamt about this chest. And those shoulders. And those arms.
Draco won the race and had Harry field-stripped first. Not to be outdone, Harry shoved Draco's trousers down and swept them to the floor in one go. For a moment they laid together, reveling in the amazing warmth of skin on skin. Harry felt a lump rise in his throat that threatened to overwhelm him.
"I missed you," he whispered, his eyes feeling dangerously prickly.
"I missed you, too," Draco whispered back, his smile somewhat strained. Harry realized how wrong he had been to assume he'd found another Colin, someone who only wanted him half as much as he was wanted. He could see it in Draco's eyes, he had fallen for Harry the same way Harry had fallen for him.
"How?" Harry asked, running his fingers up Draco's bare back. "How do five days matter so much?"
"I don't know," Draco shook his head. "But I've hardly thought of anything else since."
"Are you back for good?"
"Yes," Draco kissed him gently. "No more international courses."
He ran his fingers up Harry's thigh and squeezed his hip. Harry's cock was already hard, but the firm contact made him pulse against Draco's groin. Harry stroked his hands down Draco's back to his arse and lightly traced along his crease. Draco inhaled appreciatively and his eyelids fluttered. Harry rolled them over in one motion so that he was lying on top. He reached between them and cupped Draco's bollocks, pressing just the tips of his fingers into his perineum. Draco groaned and tipped his head back luxuriously. Harry dipped his mouth and flicked his tongue across Draco's nipple as he explored with his fingers, his confidence growing as the other boy writhed with pleasure.
He moved his hips slowly, pushing his cock against Draco's, reveling in the simple pleasure of contact. He moved his hand up between them to grasp both cocks in one hand, then stroked together, running lightly over the tips and catching both beads of precum on one finger. Draco caught Harry's chin in his hand and drew him up to his mouth so he could explore with his tongue. Harry pushed his hand down between them again and traced his puckered entrance, his body alert for any sign of approval.
Draco nodded almost imperceptibly without breaking the kiss and Harry slipped his finger into the moist warm channel. Draco moaned into Harry's mouth, and his hands went still for a moment, as though he had temporarily forgotten how to move. Harry moved slowly, gently, not wanting to push too fast and cause the other boy pain. As he felt the muscle walls relax he slipped in a second finger and worked sensually as they kissed.
He reached down and hooked Draco's leg over his arm and pushed it up towards his chest, improving his access. The third finger entered without resistance and Draco's hands returned to life. He grasped Harry's arse as though pulling him in, as though he could direct his cock remotely. Harry chuckled and slipped his hand free, murmured the protection and lubrication charms and then pushed forward. Draco exhaled sharply as Harry entered, then nodded vigorously as Harry started to move. His gray eyes opened and he stared up at Harry in slack-jawed transcendent bliss, which only made Harry bolder. He thrust faster, deeper, grasping Draco's cock between them and stroking with long, languid pulls.
They both grunted in rhythm, their eyes locked on one another, heat rising between them as Harry thrust. He could feel the climax starting to simmer, rolling up from deep within his groin. Every inch of his body tingled as sweat beaded along his brow and between his thighs. Draco clawed at his back, completely lost in the thrall of stimulation, and Harry could feel him throb as he rose dramatically towards orgasm.
Suddenly Draco's back arched and he breathed out in a long sustained moan that rasped from the back of his throat. Harry pushed and pushed and stroked as Draco came in the space between them. Harry came only a moment later, his forehead pressed against Draco's and his eyes squeezed shut as the firestorm of orgasm swept through him.
They gradually slowed and then finally, with a shudder that wracked his whole body, Harry slipped free. Draco dipped his hand over the side of the bed and found his wand for a quick clean-up charm, and then he rolled Harry into his arms.
"Sweet mother of Merlin," he said.
"That's what I was going to say," Harry replied.