6/

An Invitation

Harry woke the next morning with the hangover of all hangovers. He stumbled around his bedroom having no recollection of the later part of the night. As he rubbed sleep from his eyes he noticed a small vial of hangover cure left for him by, he suspected, Hermione. He smiled; what would he do without her.

After he had gulped down the potion in one Harry had a quick shower and resolved to make the most of his weekend off-call. He decided that the best way to spend the remainder of the weekend was with one, Draco Malfoy. And so, after his shower harry sat down at his mahogany desk in his small study, and wrote a quick letter to Draco asking him for dinner. Harry sealed it and sent it with Hermes to Draco at his hotel. Harry then resigned himself to his garden until such time as he got a reply from Draco.

Draco awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. Hurriedly, he put on his bathrobe and opened the door. There stood a man with a breakfast tray.

"Good morning Mr Malfoy. I believe you ordered breakfast in your room this morning for 9.30?"

It took Draco a moment to process what was going on through his sleep addled brain but he managed to thank the steward and directed him as to where to place his tray. After the steward left Draco notices a small letter resting between the milk jig and tea pot. He picked it up – not surprised that it hadn't arrived by owl at his window. The staff were very good, they had a policy whereby the mail was collected and not delivered to residents before 9.00a, unless requested. A fact which suited Draco down to the ground as he rarely rose early.

Draco opened the letter slowly having recognised the writing. He was slightly apprehensive as to that it might say, nevertheless he read it all the way through and was pleasantly surprised.

Draco,

I feel we should talk more about, well... everything. I don't want us to be enemies anymore.

How are you fixed for dinner at the Phoenix for 8pm? I hear it has had a make-over and it apparently quite the place to go.

~ Harry

Draco smiled to himself. Harry had always been so blunt. Draco considered Harry's offer and sat down at his dressing table to write his reply.

Harry,

Thank you for your kind offer. Dinner sounds very pleasant, although you should know that I do not consider us enemies anymore.

See you at 8.

~ Draco

Harry's eyes grew wide, he doesn't consider us enemies? Well, that's a new one, he thought. Still, Draco had agreed and now they effectively had a dinner date. Harry smiled; this was going to be a good evening.

At 7.45pm Harry's hall clock yelled at him to get a wriggle on and obediently he obliged. Dressed in his best fitting black jeans and a light blue shirt Harry stepped out his door (remembering his key at the last minute) and disapparated to the restaurant.

"I booked a table" Harry said, "The name's Potter"

"Ahh Mr Potter, yes of course. This way please." Harry followed the waiter and was pleased to find he was there first. As soon as he had sat down however he noticed a shock of blonde hair entering the restaurant. Harry stood and waved him over. Draco gave him a small smile and gestured to him when a waiter asked if he had booked. Draco looked every bit like he'd walked out of Vogue. Tight fitting jeans and an ox-blood coloured shirt. To Harry's mind he looked fantastic.

"See something you like, Potter?"

"Harry." Harry corrected absently. Then he seemed to check himself, "Oh, no no," he stammered.

"I was just...err... nice shirt." He finished lamely. Draco's smirk turned into a bashful smile which Harry thought was rather adorable.

"You think so? Thank you I bought it this morning purposely for tonight."

Harry couldn't help but notice how perfectly that shirt fitted and hugged Draco in all the right places. Before he made even more of a fool of himself Harry quickly changed the subject.

"Shall we sit? We do kinda look like a pair of wallies just standing here." And he promptly sat.

"Wallies..." Draco mused but sat nonetheless. "Speaking of strange muggle things, why are we in a muggle restaurant?"

"I'd have thought the answer obvious." Harry replied. "Less chance of us being recognised, I thought you'd prefer it that way?" He finished, looking questioningly at Draco to make sure he had made the right choice.

"Classic Potter, always thinking of everyone else, thank you. It is indeed what I would have done."

Pleased with the seeming praise Harry picked up the wine menu and ascertained if Draco would like to share a bottle of something or have his wine by the glass. Draco said that he would prefer wine by the bottle and so Harry handed him the menu rather than admit that he wasn't that au fait with wines and what they went well with. Draco didn't seem to notice Harry's reluctance however and gladly chose a middle-of-the-range Sauvignon Blanc. Harry was surprised although he didn't show it. He had assumed, and wrongly so, that Draco would have gone for a highly expensive one, perhaps because he liked it, but more likely in an effort to show off.

After they had ordered their wine, starter and main course, conversation flowed easily between them as if they were old friends. They spoke of early Hogwarts days and conveniently missed out the time when they had attacked each other in the bathroom and how Draco had eventually chosen the path of the Death Eaters. They spoke of their petty fights and of the 'Rememberall Incident' and they chuckled at how childish and pointless it had all been in the grand scheme of things.

Their food arrived along with a second bottle of wine and the conversation flowed even more readily. So far as to say that by dessert, they were positively sloshed and babbling and laughing like loons. Before too long however, they had finished coffee and Draco made a move as if to get up and leave. However, he swayed far too dangerously and promptly plonked back down in his seat. Harry, laughing, stood up and pulled Draco to his feet.

"Come on you," he said, "Can you handle a night cap back at mine?" He finished with a hint of challenge in his voice that he knew Draco wouldn't be able to resist. Draco looked at him suspiciously,

"Are you trying to get in my pants, Potter?"

Harry's eyes widened a fraction before smirking,

"Why?" He asked slyly, "Is it working?" he added with a wink. "Also, my name is Harry..."

Draco playfully slapped him on the shoulder

"Don't be so cheeky. And that as maybe be Harry but one cannot break the habit of a life time." He finished cheerfully.

Harry poured out two glasses of his finest and most expensive whiskey and walked though to the living room where he found Draco, standing in the middle of the room looking edgy.

"What's the matter Draco?" Harry asked, as he placed a glass in Draco's hand.

"Does anything in here bite?" Draco asked. Harry laughed and Draco scowled at him.

"No." Harry said with a smile. "Nothing bites in here, but don't make faces at the mirror... she doesn't like it."

"Mad." Draco muttered as he practically fell on to the sofa. Harry sat next to him and not half as gracefully, and again they began to talk. This time however, they did speak of the war and the wrong choices they had made and it wasn't long before they had started apologising to each other over their various misdeeds, of which there were plenty.

"I'm sorry." Draco whispered. "I'm sorry for what I did to you, I'm sorry for what I did to so many others. My father honestly thought that they were on the winning side and I was convinced that he wanted me safe which is why he forced me into Voldemort's service..."

Although Harry was erring towards the half-cut side of things, he didn't miss Draco referring to the Death Eaters as 'they'. Nor did he miss the flinch in Draco's eyes when he said Voldemort's name. Harry slung an arm around Draco's shoulder.

"...It's in the past now, try to forgive and forget." Harry smiled. "It's not going to be easy, but look at us now. See? Miracles do happen."

Draco gave a weak smile, but even as he did so a single tear fell. Harry could resist no longer and enveloped Draco in a hug. It was the strangest and nicest sensation Draco had ever had and he never wanted it to end. Here in the arms of his former enemy he felt relaxed and safe like he never had before. He let the tears flow freely now. All his emotion flowed out soundlessly into Harry's obliging shoulder. It was awkward, there was no denying, but so beautiful at the same time that he didn't actually care. Harry pulled Draco onto his lap, he wasn't sure why he did but Draco wasn't complaining. In fact, by the time Harry had finished fretting; Draco had curled himself up and had once again buried his head in Harry's shoulder.

Soon Draco's tears finally stilled and he looked up into Harry's face. Evening with red puffy eyes and a flushed tear stained face Harry could honestly say he'd never seen anything so beautiful, not even Ginny in her little black dress was close to this. Harry frowned; he had been thinking of her a lot recently. He was so thankful that they were still friends it made life so much easier, especially with the kids. That pulled Harry up short. He hadn't told Draco about his children and break up with Ginny. He didn't worry though; it would all come out in one way or another. His thoughts trailed back to Ginny as she was the one who had helped him the most when he had come out as gay. She was the one who fought off the press and the prying fans.

Harry came back to the present as he noticed a warm hand stroking softly though his hair.

"What is it?" Draco asked quietly, having seen the thoughtful far-a-way look in Harry's eyes.

"Oh, you know, the past and stuff." He sighed. "Too many people died and I hold myself responsible. I could have stopped so many people dying. Dumbledore... Fred... Sirius." His voice caught and tears welled up and threatened to spill over. Not now, he thought, I've cried too many times. Man up. He drew a shaky breath and released the iron grip on Draco's hand he didn't even realise had happened. He saw Draco wince.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't apologise." Draco whispered close to Harry's ear. His voice had deepened and turned husky, "And don't think about the past. Forgive and forget, remember? Live for the present." Harry looked into his eyes. They were not the cold, hard grey he had come to expect. They were like molten silver and they seemed to burn right through Harry and warm him from the inside. Harry couldn't take it any longer. He brought his lips tentatively down to Draco's as Draco parted his lips slightly. Their lips collided softly and their kiss burned with passion. Draco move to straddle Harry, his erection, which had gone previously unnoticed, rubbed against Harry's and together they fell into a beautiful moment that was entirely their own.

As they broke apart for air Harry whispered,

"Please, Draco. Stay with me?"