A/N: Tink lives! But really, thank you to everyone who responded to my desperate cry for attention.
Anyone who follows me on twitter or tumblr will know that for some reason, this chapter kicked my ass.
After this past week I truly feel that there has never been a better time to be a Harry Potter fan. This community is so awesome.
Call this my little contribution to the DHpt2 countdown - a few moments of distraction from the nausea inducing excitement?
Chapter 24- One
Draco awoke the following morning before anyone tried to get into the house and lowered the wards to let the right people through. He left Harry sleeping as he rose and dressed, heading down to the kitchen, as was his habit.
Howlers were not able to get through to number twelve Grimmauld Place, something that had never troubled Draco particularly, but now he supposed it was due to the et dona ferentes spell. He sat at the kitchen table until an owl pecked at the kitchen window.
He removed a knut from his pocket and exchanged it from the Prophet he'd ordered the day before as a one off, single order. Unsurprisingly, he found a picture of himself staring back from the front page. At least it was relatively recent; a paparazzi picture, for sure, he'd never posed for a picture on Diagon Alley to his knowledge.
He sighed heavily as he unfolded the heavy parchment and began to read.
When Harry padded down the stairs twenty minutes later Draco was attempting to prevent himself pulling his blond hair out by the roots. Harry plopped Bear down in his high chair and gave him a plastic spoon to play with, then kissed Draco on the head and gently unwound long, pale fingers from the hair that Harry had become rather fond of.
"I like it attached to your head, sweetheart," he murmured, filling a mug of coffee for himself and topping up Draco's. "Paraphrase for me? I don't know if I can stomach reading it."
"Nothing we weren't expecting," Draco sighed, folding the paper and summoning a peach from the fruit bowl to feed to Bear. "They've quoted Pansy, so I'm guessing she blabbed."
"She sold us out?" Harry exclaimed. "That bitch!"
"Well, we did steal the attention from her at her daughter's ceremony," Draco said reasonably. "I'd be mad, too."
"Not mad enough to call the Prophet though, surely."
"I doubt she called them," Draco said. "She just confirmed that we were together and said we make a lovely couple. Which is correct, after all."
"Howlers?" Harry asked.
"Nope. I think the spell is keeping them out."
Harry raised his eyebrows in understanding. "Oh."
It was strange, having the house back to themselves; their routine felt oddly strange, like something they'd not done for far too long a time. When another owl arrived on the windowsill Harry sighed, worried that someone had found a way around their wards and the Howlers were about to start.
Draco went to the window for him and turned back to the table with wide eyes.
"It's from the Quidditch League," he said reverently.
Harry suddenly felt very sick. "You open it," he said, shaking his head.
"No way," Draco said. "I read the paper. This one is yours."
With his heart in his throat, Harry ripped open the envelope, scanned the elegantly scrawled letter and dropped his head to the table.
"What?" Draco demanded. "What did they say?"
"They've had a bid for me," Harry mumbled. "The Tutshill Tornados want me as their First Team Seeker."
"First team?"
"Yeah," Harry confirmed, raising his head. "Oh my god, Draco."
He was pulled to his feet and into an impassioned kiss, laughing as he accepted the lips on his own.
"I knew you could do it," Draco murmured. "I'm so proud of you."
As they sank into a slower kiss the kitchen Floo roared, signalling the arrival of one of their limited visitors.
"And in front of the baby," Molly said, her hands on her hips.
"Harry just got a letter from the Quidditch League," Draco said, turning to Molly and blushing, but not letting go of Harry's hips. "The Tornados have signed him."
"I'll start with the new season, in August," Harry added.
"Oh Harry," she said, pulling him into a hug of her own. "That's fantastic." Then she slapped him lightly on the cheek. "And that's for the front page of the Prophet."
"It's not my fault!" Harry exclaimed as Draco sniggered.
Molly lifted Bear out from his high chair and carried him to the sink for a cloth to clean off his face. "You should know better than to flaunt yourselves in public like that," she said. "And with poor Bear there to witness it all."
Before Harry could respond the Floor roared again and Jamieson stumbled through. She looked awful; dark circles lined her eyes and she looked like she hadn't changed or showered since they'd left for the party the previous afternoon.
"Hey guys," she said. "Coffee? Please?"
Molly bounced the baby to her other hip and started to mix milk and sugar and hot, strong coffee. "Here, sit," Molly instructed. "You look terrible, darling, what's going on?"
"We couldn't get her, guys," Jamieson said, looking guiltily from Harry to Draco. "We just don't have enough evidence."
The jubilance of Harry's news gave way to an oppressive silence.
"Who?" Molly demanded. "You found out who was after Bear?"
"Lady Yaxley," Harry said, shaking his head.
"We thought she was dead," Draco added. "But she's not dead. She has been living with her ancient parents in Northern Ireland."
"Belfast," Jamieson said. "But it's not illegal for a woman to disappear, especially with the circumstances. A lot of people are still missing."
"And so are a lot of children!" Molly exclaimed.
"We're working on it," Jamieson said. She sipped her coffee, looking like she was on the verge of tears. "I've been sent back to give you an update. Stonestreet doesn't want to tip her off that we're looking at her. Apparently your friend Parkinson told everyone at the party last night that you were running away from the press, so at least our cover hasn't been blown."
"I can't believe you didn't get her," Draco said, sinking down into a chair.
"You're looking at this the wrong way," Jamieson said, running her hand through her light brown hair. She grimaced at the state of it and rubbed her tired eyes. "We've got a lead now. A good lead. We can start tracing everything we have back to her."
"And you're all going to work yourself into exhaustion to do it?" Molly asked.
Jamieson shook her head. "We've swapped shifts now. I was told to come and update you then I can go..."
"Sleep," Molly demanded. "I'll stay in contact with Ron. You go."
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Jamieson said gratefully. She stood and headed back to the Floo. "We'll keep you updated, you know we will."
"Of course," Draco said, ushering her to the fireplace. He bid her goodbye and turned back to Harry. "I can't believe they didn't get her."
Harry opened his arms and Draco fell into them. Watching, and bouncing Bear on her hip, Molly took in the sight of her eighth child and the man he loved.
"Come here," Harry said as they broke apart, reaching out for Bear. "We should get you dressed."
Bear stretched out his arms and fell into Harry's.
"I'm sorry to have come over at such a bad time," Molly said. She kissed Bear on the head and let Harry take him. "You shouldn't have to hide."
"And people are going to think it's about the bloody Prophet," Draco groaned.
"I'm not ashamed to be with you," Harry said frankly. "Let them say what they like. Or write what they like. We've got more important things to deal with."
xXx
As the days passed, the team became more certain that Lady Yaxley had no idea they were looking at her regarding the attacks on Draco and Grimmauld Place, and the disappearances of the magical children. Her reappearance at the Parkinson's party had made waves in pureblood society, according to Pansy who seemed to have reappeared in Draco's life, much to Harry's chagrin.
Jamieson had gone undercover. Despite her presence on the Auror squad, she was still a Slytherin and her parents owned a series of apothecaries around Europe. Her pureblood breeding assured her a place at lunch with several of her old schoolmates, gently accumulating information which could be passed back to her boss.
Stonestreet, for all his work on the case, had been working alongside Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic himself to try and make further progress. Opinions were divided on how much Draco and Harry should expose themselves to the outside world. In the end, in a fit of exasperation, Harry packed up Bear and dragged Draco to the Three Broomsticks Floo.
They only went as far as Florean Fortesque's for ice cream and walked back up Diagon Alley hand in hand, studiously ignoring the stares of passersby, some of whom walked into lampposts or other shoppers in their open- mouthed gaping at the wizarding world's newest hot couple.
Back at the house, Draco collapsed onto the sofa.
"Fucking hell," he groaned.
"Language!" Harry scolded. He set Bear down on the floor and levitated anything vaguely dangerous three feet in the air so the baby could play without any risk of getting hurt. Every day Bear got closer to walking, instead of the speed- crawling he'd developed in the previous months, Draco claimed he was just too lazy to actually get to walking.
"That was a nightmare," Draco said as Harry joined him on the sofa for a kiss.
"Mm," Harry agreed with his lips pressed to the column of Draco's throat. "But we were going to have to do it sooner or later."
Draco pouted; Harry kissed his bottom lip.
"Isn't it nice to be out though?" Harry asked.
"I've been out since I was fourteen," Draco said. "Well, to those paying attention, anyway."
Harry sat back against the cushions and pulled Draco onto his lap, running his fingers gently through the other man's hair. Bear sped past on the floor and Draco pulled out his wand to levitate a X out of his way.
"It'll be all over the papers in the morning."
"Again."
"Yeah," Harry sighed.
"That's what happens when you save the lives of thousands of people," Draco said softly. "People tend to care about what happens to you."
"They're not going to like us being together."
"That goes without saying."
Harry sighed. Bear crawled over to the sofa, grabbing hold of the edge and pulling himself to his feet.
"Come on," Draco said, grabbing the little boy under his arms and pulling him up to join their cuddle.
"We need to make him ours, properly," Harry said as Draco bounced Bear on his knees.
"When this is all over we'll start fighting with the Ministry."
"We shouldn't have to fight the Ministry."
"Don't worry," Draco said, tilting his head back for a kiss. "I've got plenty of experience in trying to overthrow an authoritarian government. Just follow my lead."
"Kingsley is not an authoritarian government," Harry said and poked Draco hard in the ribs.
"Joking," Draco said. He giggled and squirmed, causing Bear to giggle and squirm too. "Whatever it takes though, he's worth it, right?"
"Of course he is. Whatever it takes. He's ours, now."
xXx
On the twenty second of April, it was raining.
Bear woke up not knowing the importance of the date, not knowing much at all beyond the face of the blond haired man who leaned over the side of his crib to lift him up and out, to dress him in soft blue jeans and a jumper with a fluttering golden snitch on it.
Bear liked snitches. His daddy had one.
Draco had agreed to watch Bear for the morning while Harry helped with the decorations and preparations at The Burrow. For what Harry had assumed was such a small, intimate circle of friends, they were expecting a lot of people.
"Charlie!" Harry exclaimed as the second eldest Weasley brother appeared in the Floo. "I wasn't expecting you to come."
"I wouldn't miss it," Charlie said. He took the packet of wizarding balloons, Weasley branded, naturally, and started to help inflating them. "How's it going? I heard you and Draco got outed by the Prophet."
"Don't ask," Harry said. "They've been running articles practically daily. Most of it us utter crap, of course. They managed to dig up old pictures from a Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match from fifth year and Rita Skeeter is writing about 'unresolved sexual tension' from our schooldays."
To his credit, Charlie laughed uproariously. "God help us all. So where is your boyfriend?"
"Home," Harry said. "With Bear. Everyone is coming over later."
"How's the case going?"
Harry shrugged. "It's complicated. They've got someone tailing us constantly when we're not in the house. It would be so easy to just hide away and let it happen around us, but no one knows how long it's going to take to resolve this thing."
By the time the rest of the party arrived the small house had been transformed into a glittering blue and silver grotto. Due to the rain Charlie, George and Bill had taken charge of erecting a smaller, dark blue marquee in the garden that linked to the house by the kitchen door. With a few warming charms and the soft glow of gentle bubbles of light floating around inside it was as welcoming as the rest of the Weasley house.
Harry was more than touched when groups of his and Draco's old school friends started to arrive; first Ginny, who was dating Dean Thomas again, Luna, Seamus, then Neville and Ron who came with Hermione, who barrelled into Harry and almost knocked him down with a hug.
Then Blaise and Pansy arrived with baby Cynthia.
"He's too young to remember this," Draco protested as George snapped another round of photographs, making sure to include everyone from each part of the family.
"It doesn't matter," George said. "He's got these pictures to look back on for the rest of his life."
George was still taking photographs when the lights dimmed and Molly carried through a huge chocolate cake with one candle glowing from the middle. Harry allowed Draco to pull him back against his chest as their friends, their family sang happy birthday, then they shared the task of helping blow out the candle.
When Harry leaned in to kiss Draco's lips, just once, then got caught into kissing him again because he couldn't help himself, George snapped just one more picture.
Bear started to fuss as the evening progressed, the result of too much cake, too much fuss, and so many people in such a small space. Hermione lifted the baby from Draco's arms and carried him up to Ron's old bedroom.
"Right then!" Bill yelled, clapping his hands. "The baby's asleep - it's time. We're playing. Who's in?"
"Playing what?" Draco asked as the others groaned.
"The, uh, First Annual Bear's Birthday Pre- Hogwarts Alumni/ Phoenix Orphanage Tournament Weasley Quidditch Match."
"Bullshit," Draco laughed.
"Sounded good though, right?" Bill said with a wink. "Me and Draco are team captains. Line up."
"But 'av you seen ze rain?" Fleur complained as George jostled her into position in front of the stove in the kitchen. "It ees raining cats and mice."
"Cats and dogs, love," Charlie said to her as George sighed: "Yeah. Gorgeous, isn't it. Lovely weather for Quidditch."
"Got a knut, mate?" Bill asked and Draco rolled his eyes as he fished one out of his pocket. "Heads or tails?"
"Heads," Draco said.
Bill flipped the coin, caught it in his hand and slapped it on the kitchen table. It landed tails.
"Ha!" Bill exclaimed. "Harry mate, line up. Seeker."
Draco rolled his shoulders, cricked his neck either side and shot Bill a sidelong glance. "Fleur."
The assembled crowd 'oohed' and 'aahed' at his brave choice. Bill laughed. The line in the sand had clearly been drawn: neither man was going to play nice. It was a shame Draco didn't appreciate the soft kiss Fleur dropped on his cheek as she took his left side.
"George," Bill declared.
Snorting, Draco shook his head. "You really don't know how to play this game, Weasley. Wea- wait. Calling 'Weasley' in this room clearly won't work. Ron."
Ron looked confused but joined Draco's team.
"Gin," Bill said. "I need some Chasers."
"You need more than that," Draco muttered, teasing good naturedly as he watched Ginny line up. "Charlie."
"Finnigan. Chaser."
"Thomas. Chaser."
More 'oohs' from the crowd, which was admittedly thinning as the teams were cast, as Draco pitched Dean against his best friend and girlfriend. Dean seemed to take being put on Draco's team in his stride, slapping his former house rival on the back as he lined up next to Fleur.
"Two Chasers on each team rather than three, right?" Bill asked as he surveyed who was left.
"Mhmm," Draco agreed.
Bill shook his head. "Better the devil you know. Angelina."
"But what position will you play her in, Weasley?" Draco asked. "Blaise. Beater."
"What position are you playing?" Bill returned the banter. "Sticking Charlie as a Beater is practically sacrilege."
"Who said he's playing Beater?" Draco asked. "I'm playing with Blaise. Charlie's my Seeker."
Looking down the lines, it was clear that Draco had the edge, had planned ahead in his selection, had probably anticipated Bill's choices in advance, too. The team of Fleur and Dean as Chasers was unknown, for sure, but he had Ron as his Keeper and Charlie as a Seeker.
Whereas on Bill's team... Ginny and Seamus hadn't played together before either. Neither had George and Angelina as Beaters, and Bill was forced out of position to play Keeper.
Bill frowned. "Remind me never to play chess with you," he grumbled as they headed out to the shed for brooms.
xXx
Draco's team won, by what Bill insisted was a narrow margin, and due to Beginner's Luck. In all honesty, those who watched the game were equally divided as to who was the better team; what Draco's team lacked in consistency they made up for in aggression, although it was somewhat inevitable that the all- Gryffindor side pulled together more cohesively as a team.
When Charlie swooped in to snatch the snitch, Bill's team were leading by a hundred and twenty points on goal difference. It was, according to those on the ground, Harry's distraction at Draco's bat wielding skills that prevented him from noticing that it was no Wronski Feint that Charlie was performing but an actual dive for the game end-er.
Harry couldn't say he minded losing so much. It was fun to play with friends, where the light-hearted banter and blatant cheating were as much part of the game as the score.
They arrived home late in the evening; cold, wet, full of cake with a grumpy baby who needed a bath. Harry left Draco in charge of arranging something for them to eat for dinner; his only instruction was that it should probably contain some kind of vegetable to make up for all the sugar they'd consumed over the afternoon.
Draco created some kind of vegetable and lentil stew that Harry had severe reservations about until his fork hit his tongue, at which point he vowed never to cook ever again.
"Told you cooking was like potions," he said around a mouthful of food. "Told you so."
"Shut up," Draco said, and flicked a chickpea at him.
They shared the putting Bear to bed routine, then Draco dragged himself off for a shower while Harry was left with the unappetising job of putting clean clothes away. He soon bored of the task, and decided to join Draco in the bathroom instead.
"What is it with you and shower sex?" Draco murmured as Harry slid in behind him, wrapping strong arms around his waist and pressing palms flat against his chest. "Do you have a thing?"
"A thing?" Harry repeated.
"You know. A kink."
Harry laughed. "No. I don't think so."
He pressed his lips into the juncture of Draco's neck and shoulder and lapped at the wet skin, running his hands up and down Draco's sides.
"Well, your words say one thing, but your actions say the opposite," Draco teased, turning in Harry's arms.
"You just look so... mmm... when you're wet," Harry mumbled.
Draco threw his head back and laughed. Harry didn't mind; he found a new spot on Draco's throat to kiss. With gentle fingertips, Draco ran his hands over the dampening expanse of Harry's back and shoulders.
With their bodies pressed tightly together under the warm water, Harry rest his head on Draco's shoulder and just let himself feel for a few moments. The arms around his waist, the soft breaths on his neck, the gentle exploration of his body that for the first time in his life, he didn't feel self conscious about.
"You're so beautiful," Harry said softly as he played with the hair at the nape of Draco's neck.
"I'm not," Draco replied.
Harry lifted his head and brushed the water from Draco's face. "You're beautiful to me," he said, challenging Draco to defy him. "You're beautiful in places only I ever get to see."
Draco blinked a few times, then smiled, then leaned in to kiss Harry, achingly slowly. Harry relaxed into the warm, familiar feel of another man's lips on his own, marvelling at simply how right this was, wondering, not for the first time, how he'd never considered this before.
The hard muscles and flat torso was perfect as it pressed against his own; the soft smattering of hairs were perfect and erotic, as was the scruff on Draco's jaw that he shaved daily with a Muggle cutthroat razor instead of the haphazard spell Harry used. It was rarely as effective.
He felt, sometimes, like that old Greek myth of a man who fell in love with his own reflection, and while looking at himself in a river, fell in and drowned. That was his entire relationship with Draco; falling in and trying not to drown. Sometimes he let himself be pulled under and just enjoyed it. Being lost in another man. Being lost in Draco.
In his reverie, Draco had said something but he'd missed it.
"Hmm?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"No, go on, I was just thinking."
"I asked you," Draco said haughtily, "If you would make love to me."
"Here?"
"No not here, you arse," Draco said and hit him on the arse to make his point. "In our bed like normal people who don't have a shower kink."
"I don't have a shower kink," Harry protested. "I have a Draco Malfoy kink."
The ferocity of Draco's kiss, and the way his body responded to it, was not a surprise to Harry. The erection growing against his own as their tongues slipped against each other... it fit. It made sense. Draco pulled them from the bathroom, dried them both with a charm and lead him through to the bedroom stark bollock naked. It was one of the highlights of having the house back to themselves again.
They resumed their kissing on the bed, legs tangled together with no one quite ready to decide tops and bottoms just yet.
"You know I love you, right?" Harry said, pulling back so he could look at Draco properly.
"Yeah."
"Because I do. I might not say it all that often, but I'm crazy in love with you."
Draco smiled slowly and the hand on Harry's hip tightened. He leaned in and kissed Harry's shoulder.
"I've felt that way about you for a long time."
"How long?" Harry pressed, knowing that they'd only brushed over the surface of this before.
With Draco's groan, he knew he'd hit a sore point. "Really, Harry?"
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Draco flopped onto his back and encouraged Harry's head on to his shoulder. "Since we were... I don't know. Fourteen?"
"Fourth year?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
"You were awful to me in fourth year," Harry grumbled. Draco huffed a laugh and pressed his lips to Harry's hair. "Potter stinks badges?"
"I wanted you to notice me," Draco admitted. "You were so busy, constantly running from one thing to another with the Triwizard Tournament. I was dealing with the fact that I was gay... or not dealing with it, I suppose. If I wasn't awful to you, you wouldn't have noticed me at all. Having you hate me every day was better than just fading into the background where I didn't matter."
"I wish I could say that I felt the same way about you."
"I know you didn't, and that's okay. You love me now."
Harry could hear the smile in Draco's voice and tilted his head for another slow kiss. Draco was already on his back, so it was easy for Harry to shift until he was lying on top, his forearms braced on the pillows.
"This okay?" he asked against Draco's lips. Draco hummed his assent.
"Inside me, please," Draco murmured.
Smiling slowly, Harry reached fro the tin of waxy lubricant and pressed his index finger against Draco's opening, waiting for the other man's body to accept him in. Draco's eyes were screwed shut and he was frowning slightly, but his hips rocked into the movement of Harry's fingers, belying his arousal.
With the lubricant spread liberally over his own cock, Harry pulled his fingers out of Draco and quickly replaced them with his cock. Draco groaned, low in his throat as Harry pressed in deep. Their kisses were slow, deepening the intensity of their lovemaking as they rocked together.
Draco locked his ankles around Harry's lower back, opening himself up to the movement of their bodies. Their foreheads pressed together, breaths coming in shallow gasps now as they found the rhythm that was instinctual to them both.
"Wow," Harry whispered, making Draco laugh breathlessly.
"Oh yeah. God, Harry..."
Harry waited for Draco to come first, crying out over and over, before he came too, holding his breath to make the waves of pleasure last.
"I love you," he mumbled into the delicate arch of Draco's neck. "I love you."
A/N: And because I'm feeling all warm and fluffy inside right now, I'll do teasers- for- reviews again. (Love you all).