After lunch they cleaned up and rooted around in the box of old baby clothes until they found something that fit Ron nicely. They even found a pair of suitable shoes. Then they secured him into the buggy and passed through the Floo to the town square of Hogsmeade.

They set off towards Gladrags Wizardwear to find a new wand holster for Draco. Ron kicked his feet and patted the tray on the buggy, pointing at birds and trees and shops and people and anything he could put in the direct line of his finger. The air was perfect, a warm June day, a bit hot in direct sun but lovely in the shade. Harry wondered at Draco's choice of long sleeves and suspected he was probably a bit overheated.

They had to bump and maneuver to get the buggy over the threshold of the clothing shop. Once inside Ron strained and reached for everything at eye level, so that Harry was kept busy distracting him while Draco inspected a few different styles of wrist holsters. A pretty shopgirl helped by unboxing the ones he wished to try on. Harry could tell she was flirting with him and felt a curious flush of pride when Draco was clearly unimpressed.

"If you'll roll up your sleeve I'll help you slip it on," she said breathily. "Which side do you wear it on?"

"Left," Draco unbuttoned his cuff and reached up inside his sleeve to pull his current holster off. It was worn and the leather was thin in a few places.

"You're not left-handed," Harry said. He rolled the buggy back and forth to keep Ron from grabbing at items on low shelves.

"Dueling strategy," Draco said, holding his hand out to the shopgirl for the new holster. "No one expects a wand in the left hand. Most opponents will focus on the right, looking for tells."

"If you'll roll your sleeve up I'll slide it on," the shopgirl said again.

"No thanks," Draco plucked it from her hands and slipped it on without moving his sleeve. He inserted his wand into place, buttoned his cuff and moved his arm around to test it. "Feels a bit insecure," he said, removing it.

"I can help fit it better," she reached out to help.

Draco yanked his arm back and regarded her with haughty coldness. "Thank you, but no."

Harry busied himself with a rack of luminescent socks. He knew what was happening. Draco's Dark Mark must still be visible. He was hiding it from view by keeping it concealed. The shopgirl wouldn't know that, and therefore wouldn't know that she was treading on very thin ice.

Draco tried a different strap and waved his arm around to test it. "This one is fine. No need to wrap it, I'll wear it out." His voice was hard.

"Yes sir," she said meekly. "I'll wrap up your old one." She returned to the register and tallied his total, then accepted his money with downcast eyes.

When he was done he strode from the store without another word, and Harry could tell from the straight line of his back that he was annoyed. This was a posture he knew well. He wheeled Ron after him, but hung back and didn't press him to speak. He paused in front of Honeydukes and decided he wanted an ice cream.

"Draco," he called gently. "Ice cream?"

Draco stopped and clenched his fists for just a moment. Then he turned and looked back regretfully. His shoulders sagged and he returned to Harry and Ron with a guilty frown. He squeezed Harry's shoulder and bumped his temple with his forehead.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I think Ron should taste his first ice cream," Harry said brightly, to show Draco that his apology was unnecessary.

"The first he can remember, anyway," Draco's smile silently thanked Harry for understanding.

They pushed their way inside and carefully navigated between the barrels of various sweets. Ron's eyes goggled and danced at the colors and shapes and movement. They steered the buggy to the back of the shop where the No-Melt ice cream counter was. Harry picked out coconut, Draco chose vanilla. They both added brilliantly sparkling sugar strands sprinkled on top. Harry crouched down and gave Ron a little taste, laughing as his eyes bugged out and he reeled back from the cold.

They pushed the stroller back outside and slowly made their way down the street in search of a place where they could sit and eat their treats. They found a small bench beneath the shade of a tree, squeezing in close to fit onto the short seat. Draco laid his arm along the back of the bench and stroked his thumb down Harry's arm as they ate their ice cream. Every now and then they offered Ron a taste, who responded with various comical reactions to the cold sweet taste.

"Harry?"

All three looked up as a group. "Arry!" Ron shouted in response as he patted his tray.

"Hi Neville," Harry smiled bravely over the top of his ice cream. Neville looked back and forth between Harry and Draco, totally nonplussed by the sight.

"Fancy running into you," Neville smiled and nodded, his eyebrows stitched together in confusion.

"How are things, Longbottom?" Draco asked, just before taking a massive bite of ice cream.

"I'm well, thank you," Neville said. "Out enjoying the day?"

"Ice cream sounded perfect," Harry raised his cone.

"Honeydukes has benefitted greatly since we started allowing summer here," he nodded. "It's been great for tourism altogether. Winter year-round isn't everyone's idea of paradise."

"That's right, you're on the village council now, aren't you?" Harry recalled.

"I am," he puffed his chest out proudly. "In a year or two I might run for mayor."

Draco shifted in his seat and curled his hand around Harry's shoulder. Harry's heart beat faster. He hadn't told all of his friends about his preferences yet. He had naively assumed he wouldn't run into anyone he knew on their little outing.

"Um," Neville's eyes flicked to Draco's hand and darted away. He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Neville," Harry took a breath. "It's probably obvious but-"

"No, I figured it out," Neville said. "You don't have to say it."

"There was never a good time," Harry said apologetically. "I wasn't trying to keep it from anyone."

"It's no one's business," Neville said. He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his heels. "But you know," he glanced at Draco and away.

"Neville," Draco said, his voice a little too loud and a little too sharp. "I apologize for the way I treated you in school." He stared directly at his former schoolmate and waited patiently.

Neville's mouth dropped open. "You do?"

"I do," Draco said. "I won't make excuses for how I acted. Suffice to say I overcame a lot and I've turned over a new leaf."

"Okay," Neville chewed his lip and peered at Draco suspiciously, looking for any sign of a trick.

"Daco!" Ron slapped the tray on the buggy and pointed up into the tree. "Birdy, Daco!"

"Is this your son?" Neville asked, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline.

"No," Draco said pleasantly, taking another bite of ice cream.

"Is he," Neville took a step back and gawked at Harry. "He's not yours and Ginny's is he?" he gasped.

"No," Harry jumped in surprise. "No, that ended long ago."

"Then whose child is this?" Neville squatted on his heels and smiled at Ron. Ron laughed and patted his tray again.

"I-keem!" he said, pointing at Harry's cone. Harry obediently offered a nibble.

"This is Barnaby, second cousin, once removed," Draco said smoothly. "We're babysitting."

"Barnaby," Neville tickled Ron's chin. "He's adorable." Ron giggled and kicked his feet.

"It was nice running into you," Harry said. "We should get together soon."

"Definitely," Neville nodded. His smile was strained as he nodded at Draco, but Harry supposed it was better than nothing. They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then he was on his way.

"Barnaby?" Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco.

"Seemed plausible," Draco shrugged. "So was that mortifying?"

"Not at all," Harry said. "I haven't told many people, though. So it's sort of a two-for-one coming out." He squinted down the road after Neville and thought. "Why did you apologize?"

"Because it seemed like I should," Draco said. "And it seemed like something that would make you happy."

"But did you really mean it? Or was it just for my sake?" Harry asked.

"I did it for your sake," Draco said. "But I also mean it, I guess. If not for your sake I would have thought it and not said it out loud."

"It's good that you said it out loud," Harry said.

Draco gazed at him for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him. Harry's stomach did flips, ice cream and all. Ron clapped his hands.

"Will you go out with me?" Draco asked when they parted. "A real date, you and me, let's have supper."

"Sure," Harry looked down at Ron. "With him?"

"Of course not, Bean will babysit," Draco said. He leaned over and kissed Harry's neck, sending goosebumps down both arms. "I want to take you to supper, and then I want to take you back to my place and shag you senseless," he said into Harry's ear.

Harry groaned, and was instantly hard. Draco glanced down and noticed. He grinned smugly and took a big bite of his ice cream.

They headed back to the Burrow and then parted ways to get ready for their evening out. Harry didn't have much of a wardrobe to choose from that would be date worthy. When he had packed for his month at the Burrow it had never occurred to him that he would need to look nice in public. In the end he chose an Oxford shirt and black tie with boring tan trousers. He knew it wasn't quite the right assembly of items but had no idea what was out of place or how to fix it.

Bean arrived just as he came downstairs and went straight to Ron. He barely looked at Harry in Draco's absence, instead attending to the toddler. Harry scooped Ron up and hugged him.

"Uncle Harry will be back later," he said, patting Ron's back. "You have fun with Bean and don't give him any tantrums at bedtime, okay?"

"Bean! Bean funny!" Ron clapped his hands. His vocabulary had grown exponentially throughout the afternoon.

"You'll call Draco if there are any problems, right?" Harry asked.

"Yes, sir, Harry Potter, sir," Bean tugged at his teddy bear tank top and shuffled his feet shyly.

"We'll be back later," Harry said again and finally, with a twinge of guilt, stepped through the Floo.

He stepped out into the evening air in the Hogsmeade town square. He wondered where Draco wanted to go. Not Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop, surely.

"Ready?" A pair of arms slipped around Harry's shoulders from behind and pulled him in close. Harry turned and bashfully tugged at his tie.

"Sorry, this is all I had," he said.

"I already knew you have no style," Draco dismissed his concern.

"Not like you," Harry said. "I'll bet that suit cost more than a year's tuition."

"I don't know how much tuition cost," Draco said. "I never asked." He gripped Harry's hand and pulled him in close, then winked and Disapparated.

They landed in the lobby of a posh restaurant that looked out over a pastoral landscape. The dining room was filled with finely dressed witches and wizards, wealth apparent in their apparel and bearing. Harry felt distinctly underdressed and out of place. He stepped back and fidgeted with his tie again.

"We should go somewhere else," he whispered. "I'm not dressed for this."

"You're fine," Draco caught his hand and pulled him back in again. "Just ignore anyone who thinks otherwise."

"Easy for you to say," Harry said.

"No it's not," Draco said, his eyes sharp. "It's not easy for me to say." He extended his left arm meaningfully. "But here I am anyway."

"Master Malfoy, reservations for two," the maître d' appeared like a shimmering mirage. He bowed and led the way into the dining room.

Harry kept his chin up, pretending he wasn't quaking under the weight of the eyes of the other diners. It wasn't possible to know if they were staring because of his clothing or because of his name. He could never tell.

They were seated at a table for two near a window, giving them a spectacular view of the sunset over the fields below. The sky poured gold and pink across the tips of barley as it rippled in the breeze. Harry felt the anxious knot unwind in his stomach. Draco slipped their hands together.

"I assume Ron was fine with Bean watching him tonight?" Draco asked. He stroked his thumb over Harry's knuckles.

"Seemed like it," Harry's attention was divided between speaking and the thrill of being touched. "He wasn't bothered at all when I left."

"Maybe he really does like me better," Draco curled his lip in a sneer. "Maybe when he grows up he'll be my best mate now."

"Very funny," Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco's sneer dissolved into a sincere smile. He watched Harry closely. "Has anyone ever held your hand before?"

"Of course," Harry sat up and scowled at the question. "I held hands with Ginny. And Cho."

"You held their hands," Draco said. "Has anyone held yours?"

"Same thing, isn't it?"

"It's not," Draco said. "Has anyone who was interested in you reached out and held your hand? Taken your hand in theirs?"

"Oh," Harry said. "Maybe not."

"Have you ever held hands with a man?"

"No," Harry blushed.

"Have you done anything with a man?"

"Come on."

"Is that a no?"

"Yes."

"Potter," Draco frowned. "Yes or no."

"No."

"That explains it," Draco nodded. "You're so nervous."

"It's not just that," Harry said. "You're not just any man."

"I am quite a catch, aren't I?" Draco waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You know that's not what I mean." Harry withdrew his hands as the waiter brought their drinks and a platter of rolls.

"I know," Draco nodded. He tore a piece of bread in half and popped a chunk into his mouth. "Maybe it's not enough, a few days raising a baby. Maybe there's just too much history."

"Do you really think so?" Harry asked. His heart ached at the thought.

"I hope not," Draco took his hand again. "You know I've liked you for a while, right?"

"You have?" Harry was stunned. "Since when?"

"I don't know. A while," It was Draco's turn to blush.

"Then why were you so awful to me?" Harry asked.

"Because I hated you." Draco said.

Harry took a bite of bread and considered his words. "At what point did you start liking me more than you hated me?"

Draco cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. He brushed his long forelock back from his eyes and gazed out of the window.

"The fire?" Harry guessed. That was the moment he had gotten his first inkling of feelings. He remembered Draco's arms curled around him so tightly. He remembered setting him down and worrying that he had been hurt. He remembered the look in his eyes.

"Before that," Draco said softly, still staring out of the window.

"Well," Harry thought hard. "It had to be after you hexed Katie Bell, that was the last time you tried to kill me." He swallowed hard, thinking about the moment he had thought he had murdered Draco. At once a bolt of terror and a flood of guilt, grappling with the knowledge that he had gone too far and had crossed a line that should never be crossed.

"No," Draco nodded at the twilight sky outside. "That was it."

Harry stared at him. How could that be? He had literally passed within reach of the shadow of death, at the hands of Harry himself. How could that have been the moment?

Draco looked up and regarded him seriously. He seemed to know what Harry was thinking. "That was the moment," he said again.

Harry reached out slowly and took Draco's hand in his. He didn't think he could fully understand it, not really, but maybe he could grasp a bit of it.

"So what you're saying is," he said soberly, "if I ever feel like I'm losing your attention, I should try to kill you to win you back again."

Draco snorted and covered his mouth to muffle the sound. "Potter," he shook his head.