Summary: Draco is a Healer, Harry is an Auror. When an accident sends Harry to St Mungo's and into Draco's care they begin to wonder if things can ever go back to the way they were.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings that you recognise; they belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I am not making any money from this story.

A/N:Over 100 reviews – yay! Thank you so much for your continued support, it means the world to me. Here we are at chapter ten already, enjoy x

Chapter Ten: Dinner With The Weasleys

Draco was in a foul mood. He and Harry had spent every night together at his flat for a month and Harry still had not said that he loved him. Not while they were both awake, anyway. Every night, Draco pretended to sleep while Harry whispered that he loved him before falling asleep himself. And every night, Draco lay beside him, silently fuming and unable to clear his mind enough to get a decent night's rest and so turned up at work the next day with a face like a slapped arse. The word had spread among staff and patients alike that he was not to be approached unless absolutely vital and his popularity among the mediwitches had fallen dramatically. Everything else, however, was perfect. Fan-bloody-tastic. He had no experience of being in a relationship and now, with almost three months of smooth-sailing under their belts, he was starting to panic. Surely everything couldn't continue being perfect forever? No, of course not; he was bound to slip up sooner or later and ruin everything. He tried his best to appear calm and collected around his boyfriend but he could feel himself inching towards a minor breakdown.

"Okay, so I add the diced roots now?"

"No, you add the powdered horn then stir clockwise six times."

"Oh, right."

Draco had kept his promise and spent most nights helping Harry with his Potions coursework. At first, armed with his trademark Malfoy arrogance, he had assumed that he would have the Gryffindor up and running by the end of the week, brewing complex potions and writing up reports worthy of an Outstanding grade. A month later, however, Draco was beginning to feel that Harry was beyond help. The man was simply useless with a cauldron. Draco ran his hand through his hair in frustration, a smudge of soot on his pointed nose.

"Now, count as you stir," Draco nodded each time Harry's spatula made a full circle. "Okay, it should be pale blue at this stage," he said, consulting the book in front of him. The two men leaned over to get a better look at the concoction, which was bubbling sluggishly and had the same consistency as cold custard. "At least it's blue!" Draco said, trying to seem cheerful. "That's progress!"

Harry groaned. "This is useless! I'm never going to pass!" He threw himself down on the couch, looking defeated. "I give up. I might as well quit and work for Luna at the Quibbler!"

"Don't be stupid," Draco shook his head. "I'm going to help you pass this exam if it's the last thing I do. Now, we have to get ready or we're going to be late."

"Do we have to go to the Burrow? I really don't want to see them," Harry suddenly looked tense. "What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, George, sorry I ruined your wedding!'?"

"I'm sure nobody will even bring that up. It's not exactly a lighthearted conversation piece, is it?" Draco reasoned. "And they've been asking us to come every week for a month now. They wouldn't invite you if they didn't want you there."

Harry considered this before getting to his feet. "You're right," he sighed. "I can't avoid them forever. I just hope it's not awkward."

Half an hour, a shared shower and two almost-arguments later, Harry and Draco found themselves outside the Burrow. As Harry raised a hand to knock, the door flew open to reveal Mrs. Weasley, a wooden spoon in one hand and her wand in the other.

"Harry, dear, how wonderful to see you!" she cried, pulling him into a suffocating hug. "You're getting too thin again, dear," she pulled back and eyed him critically. "We must keep an eye on that."

"Yes, Molly," he replied dutifully, smiling. There was a pause. "Erm, Molly, this is Draco," he thrust his boyfriend towards her and laughed at the alarmed expression on the blonde's face as he, too, was enveloped by the Weasley matriarch.

"Draco, how nice it is to finally meet you. We've heard so many wonderful things about you," she gushed.

"All lies, I assure you," Ron appeared at his mother's shoulder, a butterbeer in his hand.

"Ronald, that's quite enough," Mrs. Weasley scolded him, slapping his hand as he went to grab a piece of chicken from a plate on the counter. "And don't touch the food until I say!"

Harry and Draco made their way into the house, pausing before they reached the sitting room.

"I should probably warn you – the whole family turns up for Sunday dinner. It can be a little overwhelming, especially if you're not from a large family," Harry whispered and Draco looked confused.

"I've already met them though. Weasel and she-Weasel, those retched twins and the poncy one with the glasses, right?"

"Well… one of the twins died in the… erm… a few years ago," Harry stammered, not wanting to bring up the war. "Ron has two other brothers and, well, I'll let you see for yourself," he smirked and led the Slytherin into the sitting room, which looked like a bomb had hit it. George and Alicia were sitting on the sofa across from Percy and Penelope, whose twins were running riot and darting in and out of the room at the speed of light. Hermione was trying to sustain a conversation with Fleur, who was heavily pregnant for the second time, but both Danny and Victoire were pulling at the hems of their robes, desperate for attention. Bill and Charlie were having an arm-wrestling contest with Teddy, while Andromeda looked on anxiously from the sidelines. Ron entered the room and scooped his son up, throwing him over his shoulder and laughing as the toddler giggled and squirmed.

"Hi," Harry called and the noise level in the room rose as everyone turned to greet him. There was a split-second where all eyes came to rest on Draco but Harry had a feeling that they were under strict orders from Molly not to say anything. He turned to his boyfriend, who was looking rather alarmed at the scene before him. "You alright?"

"Sunday dinner at the Manor is Mother and I taking supper in the smallest dining room," Draco looked around the room. "This is pandemonium! How can you be so calm?"

"I love this," Harry grinned. "It's great to see everyone having fun."

A floorboard creaked behind them and he turned to see Ginny standing in the doorway, her eyes wide. They hadn't seen each other since the wedding and, Harry had to admit, she looked like shit warmed up. She was paler than usual and she'd lost weight, giving her a gaunt, drawn appearance. She wore no make-up and dark circles were clearly visible under her eyes.

"Hi, Ginny," he said quietly.

"So it's true," she remarked tonelessly. "You left me for him."

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor. "Yes," he replied, bracing himself for the tirade that was bound to follow. When nothing came after a few moments of silence, he glanced up to see her eyes flicking back and forward between Draco and himself. She blinked back tears and took a deep breath.

"You're a bastard, Harry," she spat, before turning on her heel and marching upstairs to her bedroom.

"Well, I think that went surprisingly well," George joked and a few people laughed, breaking the tension that had appeared in the room with Ginny's arrival. Mr. Weasley appeared in the same spot that Ginny had just vacated to announce that dinner had been served. As it was such a nice night, two large tables had been assembled in the back garden and were groaning under the weight of Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking.

"Everything looks delicious, Mrs. Weasley," Draco commented as everyone took their seats.

"Thank you, Draco," she replied, her cheeks flushed with pride. "And do call me Molly."

The noise level at the table rose again as people resumed their conversations while helping themselves to chicken and ham pie, potatoes and a huge array of vegetables. Draco remained silent, looking uncharacteristically nervous; Harry gave his knee a reassuring squeeze under the table.

"So, Draco, Harry tells us that you're a Healer. It must be fascinating work," Hermione said, and Harry gave her an appreciative smile.

"Well, I love what I do," Draco replied, looking embarrassed as all eyes turned to focus on him. "Potions is something that has always come naturally to me and to be able to help so many people with something that I enjoy… it really is great. Harry mentioned that you do similar work."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "On a smaller scale, of course, but I really enjoy experimenting with the medical side of potion-making. It was something that had never occurred to me during my time at Hogwarts and I sort of fell into it but now I can't imagine doing anything else."

"You do such fantastic work and your research is, admittedly, overlooked somewhat. I'll see what I can do to have your funding increased; I'm sure the head of department would be happy to introduce your research to a few donors and get you the recognition that you deserve," Draco said delicately and Hermione looked as though Christmas had come early.

"Would you? Oh, Draco, that would be wonderful! Ronald, did you hear that?"

Ron forced his face into a smile. "That sounds great! Thanks, Malfoy," he added grudgingly.

"Of course. No trouble at all," Draco inclined his head politely before returning to his dinner, leaving Hermione grinning so hard that Harry feared her face might collapse.

They began to eat and watched in silence as the entire family began to talk at once, each conversation being held with someone at the opposite end of the table, and each person struggling to be heard over the din.

"Draco, dear, have some more potatoes," Molly was saying, pushing the huge dish towards the blonde. "You're awfully thin. Are you not eating properly? I'll send a lasagne over tomorrow night, see if we can't fatten you up a bit."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Weasley, but -"

"Nonsense, I insist! It's no bother at all, my dear. Now, have some potaoes. Would you like gravy? Bill, pass Draco the gravy…"

Feeling the hairs on his neck stand up, Harry glanced around the table. He had the distinct feeling that he was being watched and his gaze fell upon Ginny, who had not touched her food and was staring at him with the same single-minded determination that she applied to everything, from wedding planning to Quidditch strategies. He quickly averted his gaze. How did she manage to go for so long without blinking? It would be impressive if it wasn't so creepy. He looked back slowly, to find her continuing to study him as though he was a mildly interesting television programme. It wasn't a calculating look. There was no surliness in her expression, no malice, nothing. She just stared. He jumped to his feet, dropping his napkin on the table.

"Toilet," he said gruffly, by way of an explanation as Draco looked at him questioningly.

"At least we can't say you don't share, mate," George joked, and a few people tittered around the table.

Harry half-walked, half-ran into the house and hurried up the stairs, stepping into the first bathroom that he came to. Splashing water on his face, he tried to shake the feeling that he was being watched. He leaned against the sink, resting his forehead on the cool mirrored surface of the supply cabinet and took a deep, steadying breath. A noise outside the bathroom brought him back to his senses and he slowly opened the door, a pair of brown eyes meeting his as he did so.

"Ginny, you scared the shit out of me," he said, attempting a smile, which he was surprised to see that she returned.

"Sorry, I know you hate when I do that," she giggled, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

"It's okay, it'll take more than that to give me a heart attack," he joked, trying to get past her. He had no idea what had caused the sudden change in mood but he had no interest in staying with her long enough to give her the chance to start shouting. "'Scuse me, Gin." She took a step forward, serving to press her chest against his, and ran her hand up the inside of his thigh. He caught her wrist and stepped back, quirking an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing?"

"Come on, Harry, don't play dumb," she gave a tinkling laugh. "I saw you looking at me out there."

"I was only looking at you because you were staring at me," Harry frowned, letting go of her arm as though burned.

"No, you gave me the signal. You know, when you looked at me and then went to the bathroom. You wanted me to follow," she elaborated when he continued to look blank.

Harry gaped at her. "What? No I didn't!"

She smirked and took another step forward, bringing her hand up to his cheek. "No need to act coy, Harry. I know that this… thing with Malfoy is just a bump in the road. Your little experiment, so to speak, before you come back to me."

"Believe me, Ginny, this is not a bump in the road, as you put it. I'm with Draco now," he nodded, as if for emphasis. She blinked.

"Don't be stupid, Harry. Can't you see that he's just using you? No-one could ever love you like I do."

Harry recoiled. "Are you hearing yourself? You sound insane, Ginny!" She was gazing up at him, her eyes filled with lust and adoration, and he found it incredibly unnerving. She moved as though to kiss him and he jumped away, shoving her to the side and almost running down the stairs. When he reached the garden, Mrs. Weasley was directing the dirty dishes into the house with her wand and Summoning various dishes of puddings to take their place on the table. Draco gave him a worried look.

"Are you alright? You look like you're about to be sick!"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled. "I'm just tired. Do you fancy heading home for an early night?"

Draco's eyes were full of concern. "Of course, I'll get your cloak."

They made their apologies to Molly and Arthur, and bid the rest of the family farewell before Apparating back to London. As Harry crawled into bed beside his boyfriend, he was still plagued with unease. No-one could ever love you like I do, she had said. He knew deep down that Ginny's love for him was based on a childhood fantasy of him as the saviour of the Wizarding world but her words had still struck a nerve. What if she was right? What if everyone saw him only as the media portrayed him, and not as the real Harry? Or, worst of all, what if people saw the real him and didn't like it? Maybe he was so broken by the prophecy and the war and his stupid sense of duty – hero-complex, his friends had called it – that he had been rendered unlovable. He blinked back tears but, as he listened intently to Draco's breathing, he felt a small amount of calm return to him. Draco had already admitted that he loved him. He had said it and, judging by the look on his face the first time that it had slipped out, he really meant it. He took a deep breath, looking down at his boyfriend's sleeping face, and smiled. Ginny was an idiot. She didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Placing his head in the crook of Draco's neck, Harry sighed contentedly, a whispered I love you, escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered closed.

-x-

A/N: Well, guys, there it is. Not the longest of updates, granted, but an update all the same. I hope you liked it. Cookies and high praise to the best reviewer! x