Chapter 13 and the Hogwarts fun continues...

Thanks for all your love and support on this so far, wonderful readers!

Draco awoke the next morning, tangled in blankets again. He blinked sleepily, noting with chagrin that he was alone. Not that he had expected Potter to sleep in the same bed - or even wanted him to. It was just that they'd snogged quite a bit last night and he had expected his persuasive fiancé to demand the right to sleep next to him. Potter hadn't pressed the issue. He had simply slipped off Draco after kissing the very life out of him and headed for his couch.

Draco scowled at the room in general, before catching sight of the bane of his existence sprawled on the sofa. Potter was lying on his stomach with those cursed pyjamas riding low on his hips. Draco eyed him intently, taking the time to really look at Potter. He was lean and tall and had long, dark eyelashes that fluttered as he slumbered. Draco cocked his head. Was he dreaming? The man frowned and turned in his sleep, hissing in pain as his injured foot caught on the arm of the sofa.

Draco sighed and approached the couch. Potter's forehead was furrowed and he mumbled something, batting around for his pillow. Draco rolled his eyes and arranged it under his arm. Potter immediately sighed and mumbled something sounded suspiciously like Draco. Despite himself, the blond smiled.

"Git," he whispered, reaching out tentatively and stroking the lines of Potter's face. The skin smoothed out under his touch as Potter relaxed and fell back into an even sleep. Draco shook his head and lifted the man's injured leg, placing it against the arm of the sofa. That had to be more comfortable.

"Pleasant dreams, you stupid Gryffindor," he murmured, heading off for a shower.

Draco was already in the Great Hall, helping himself to breakfast when Potter trudged in. He looked scruffy and sulky and his hair stood up in all different directions. Draco smirked. Potter clearly wasn't much of a morning person. He caught sight of Draco and shuffled over, sitting next to him.

"Well, you look rested," Draco declared cheerfully. Potter ignored him and scowled at the marmalade. Draco noted the bags under his eyes with a twang of guilt. The couch was probably uncomfortable, and Harry was injured. He should have offered to take the couch for the night. Now Potter was probably going to be sullen all day. That was hardly fair. Being sullen was Draco's job. On an impulse, he reached out and carded a hand through Harry's hair, trying to pat it down.

Harry responded by whining and slumping against his shoulder. "Really Potter," Draco admonished. "McGonagall is staring at you." That much was true. As a matter of fact, several of their former teachers were looking over at them with alternate looks of confusion and amusement. No one seemed overtly shocked though, Draco noted. They'd probably been following the Prophet's fantastic coverage.

Potter didn't care. He refused to extricate himself from the crook of Draco's neck and he was getting rather heavy. The blond sighed and poured a cup of coffee, handing it to him. "Here," he sighed. "Drink it and try to act like a functional human being."

Potter blinked at the cup. "Coffee?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, you sot," Draco drawled. "Here, have at it."

Potter accepted the cup gratefully. "Thanks," he murmured. Then without so much as a warning, he turned and pressed his lips to the hollow of Draco's throat. The blond gasped softly, but Potter was already up and sipping his coffee as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Across the hall, McGonagall dabbed her mouth with a napkin, evidently trying to hide a smile.

Draco shook his head hopelessly and went back to his breakfast.

For once, they spent the day without any major mishaps. They spent their first few hours wandering around the castle. Harry insisted on visiting all his favourite haunts. That boy had spent far too much time in the Room of Requirement in Draco's opinion. When they stepped in, the room promptly provided them lighted candles, a steaming bath and a huge bed covered in rose petals. Harry whooped in delight while Draco chose to make a run for the door at once.

Then, they had lunch in the Astronomy Tower because Draco was sick and tired of being accosted by Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, demanding a rematch. Potter snagged his sandwich and Draco nicked his pumpkin juice, so all in all fair trade.

Soon enough, they were back outside. Draco chose to read quietly by the lake, while Harry decided to play coach again. He was with the Ravenclaw team this time, shouting encouragement and giving pointers wherever possible. Draco found his eyes drifting from his novel and lingering on Potter longer than necessary.

He seemed to like being around children. He laughed and traded jokes and offered advice freely. They seemed to like him too. Most of them hung on his every word, following him around the pitch with incessant pleas to demonstrate his best moves. Harry obliged them all with an easy manner.

It was… nice, Draco thought. Potter would make an excellent father someday. As was habit, he grimaced at the thought. Still, he supposed it would be nice to see that side of Harry. In theory of course, and only to satisfy his sense of curiosity.

Still…

"Damn, the little buggers can fly," a voice declared. Draco didn't bother looking up. He was used to Potter sneaking up on him by now. His fiancé settled next to him with a sigh of relief. "I'm exhausted."

"Perhaps you're just getting old," Draco retorted, burying himself in his book again. He could almost feel Potter's look of indignation. Draco smirked to himself.

"I'll show you old," Potter growled, snatching the book up nimbly and hauling Draco up again for a kiss. Draco hissed in aggravation as Potter's mouth found his again. He indulged his fiancé for about five seconds before picking up the discarded book and smacking him on the head.

"Behave. There are children around."

"We're engaged!" Potter protested, rubbing his head gingerly.

"That doesn't give you free rein to act like a heathen in public." He ignored Potter's pouting and continued reading, only to stop as something nudged his way on to his lap.

"Harry!" Draco he snapped, glaring down at the man who had comfortably settled with his head in Draco's lap. "Have you no sense of personal boundaries?"

"Nope," Harry declared cheekily, staring up at Draco. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in a frown. "You have a birthmark under your chin," he announced, reaching up to trace it with his fingers.

"I'm aware," Draco replied; trying to hedge away from the curious probing. "Potter, stop manhandling me. I'm trying to read."

"Let me see," Potter insisted, tipping Draco's chin up to get a look. The blond huffed but complied. Potter was just going to be stubborn again. In the past week or so, Draco had learnt to pick his battles. If he gave the man these little victories, he was more likely to get his way on more important things. He tried not to think about how that reasoning made him sound a lot like a wife.

"It looks a bit like a cat," Potter declared finally. He released Draco's chin and the blond stared down at him.

"Really," he drawled. Potter nodded, rather sure of his observation. "Definitely a cat," he assured Draco.

"You're an imbecile," Draco retorted. "Now do you mind if I get back to reading? You can inspect me for blemishes some other time."

"Promise?" Potter smirked. Draco rolled his eyes and smacked the git with the book again.

"Spoilsport," Potter muttered. Draco grinned and returned to his book. And if his hand drifted to casually stroke at Harry's hair as he read, he didn't notice.

Draco woke abruptly and blinked in sleepy surprise. It was dark and he was still outside, sitting by the lake. And he was alone.

"Harry?" he mumbled anxiously. He was nowhere in sight. Draco pouted. Surely, Harry hadn't left him out here? Well, he might have. It was hardly a long walk to their room and perhaps he had just assumed that Draco would come back when he woke up. But still, the idea that Harry had just gone off without him hurt a bit.

"Hey. I didn't think you'd wake up so soon," a voice crooned softly. Draco started as Harry crouched next to him, looking concerned.

"Where were you?" he demanded, wishing he didn't sound so whiny.

Harry chuckled and thumbed his cheek lightly. "I went to see Slughorn. I was only gone a few minutes. I figured you'd still be asleep when I got back."

"You left me," Draco retorted sullenly. He was feeling rather petulant about it. "Why'd you go see Slughorn?"

Harry waved it off. "Nothing important; just thought I'd say hi. You were fast asleep so…"

"You should've woken me," Draco insisted.

"I couldn't," Harry grinned. "You just looked so… cute."

"You're really pushing it, Potter," Draco grumbled, trying to stand. His legs were stiff thanks to being cramped up all day and he couldn't quite get them to cooperate. He wobbled and almost collapsed, but Harry grabbed hold of him just in time. "Hang on," he advised, holding Draco upright.

The next second, Draco squeaked in alarm as he found himself hoisted up in his fiancé's arms and being carried back to his room. Out of instinct he wrapped his arms around the man's neck to steady himself. Potter chortled and jostled him a bit, marching across the grounds effortlessly. Draco was not amused. "I am not your blushing bride!" he snapped, flushing with embarrassment.

"Could've fooled me," Potter snickered. "Merlin, you're light. Do you eat at all?"

"Put me down at once!"

"You can't walk, genius. It'll take you ages to get to the room and I'm not about to wait that long."

"Then go ahead. I'll walk up myself!"

Potter smirked at him. "You were sulking because I left you alone not two minutes ago," he pointed out smugly. "Admit it, Draco. You love it when I spoil you."

"I tolerate it," Draco sniffed. "Because you are a brute who never listens to reason."

"Well, tolerate it now. Because I'm your fiancé and I'm going to exercise the few - very few - privileges I have."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Very subtle, Potter. And you get enough privileges. I let you snog me and I don't throw things at you anymore."

"Lucky me," Potter groused. But he pulled Draco closer anyway, compelling the blond to rest against his shoulder. By the time they were in the room Draco was almost asleep again, lulled by the warmth of Harry's body and his solid presence.

He whined when he was laid out on the bed. Harry shushed him and tucked the blankets around him but he was cold again and he really didn't want to wake up in this big bed alone. Draco mumbled and tightened his grip around the man's neck. "Draco, let go," Potter whispered. "It's time to sleep now."

"Stay," Draco demanded.

"No," Harry replied firmly. "Come on, let go."

Draco held on mulishly and Harry sighed, trying to pry his fingers off. "Stop it, you brat. If I sleep here, you'll just kick up a fuss in the morning."

"I won't," Draco insisted. He looked up at Harry with imploring grey eyes and angled for his best pout. "Please, Harry? I'm cold."

Harry gaped at him, apparently torn. "That is really unfair," he declared finally.

Draco smirked and shifted over to make room. "You better remember this in the morning," Harry grumbled, slipping in beside him. He put his arms around Draco and pulled him closer. Draco curled into his chest with a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

Yes, Potter could have his little victories.

As long as Draco got his way on the important stuff.

Reviews are love!