Chapter 3

Harry was in the kitchen when Draco knocked on the door. Sauntering in when Harry flicked his wand and opened the door for him, he leaned against the kitchen's entryway and watched the darker man, admiring again the beautiful physique and predator's grace. He adjusted himself briefly. "Got enough for two?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder, eyes scorching a path down Draco's body in a way that left the slender man feeling flushed and faintly violated. "That can be arranged." He turned back to his cooking, getting out an extra portion to accommodate his unexpected guest.

Draco cleared his throat. "I was wondering something." He continued at Harry's questioning grunt. "Do Weasley and Granger know where you are?"

Harry laughed. "Of course. Though it was a few months before I let them know. They really weren't happy with me. But they understand why I did what I did." He waved a hand negligently. "Bygones and all that. They drop by occasionally. Worried about bumping into them?"

Shaking his head, Draco walked across the room and leaned against the bench so he could see Harry's face as they talked. "No. But I thought you might be worried about how they would react if they knew we were involved."

Harry arched an eyebrow but didn't look up. "We aren't. We fucked. That isn't the same thing, and I'm sure you know that, given your reputation. As for their reactions, they know better than to try to dictate to me now. They may not approve, but they know that I'll simply disappear again if they try to control me."

Draco stared. This was a side of Harry that he would never have expected. "You sound like you don't care about them. And how the hell do you know my reputation?"

Harry did look up briefly then. "I do. Very much. But I spent seventeen years having my every action controlled and manipulated, resulting in me dying. I'm not the same person as I used to be." He trailed off and stared past Draco's shoulder for a moment, then shook his head and turned back to his cooking. "I was different when I came back, and they've learned to deal with that. They know they can talk to me about anything, but I won't tolerate them telling me what, or who I can do." He smirked slightly and glanced sideways. "As for your reputation, I keep an eye on the Wizarding World so I can tell if someone is getting close to finding me. Those sort of rumours come up every so often. But I hear your name more regularly than mine these days." Draco preened slightly, but flushed when Harry smirked at him. "As I understand it, you're quite the playboy. I think I remember something about Andre Featherlight, and Toby McIntire, and Michael Allens. And didn't you do the entire Falmouth Falcons team at one point? Oh, and that dancer, what was his name? Eric something?"

Draco waved his hand and rolled his eyes. "Yes yes, I'm a slut. You know me so well."

Harry stepped close, arms braced on either side of the slender man. Hovering his body barely a centimetre away from Draco's, trapping him against the bench and staring into the wide grey eyes fixed on his face. He leaned his mouth close to Draco's ear and purred, "Oh but I do. I know you, and I know your body. I know all the places that make you shiver, all the points that make you arch and moan. I know that the inside of your elbow being bitten makes you whine, and that stroking behind your knee makes you tremble and wrap your legs around my waist. I know that biting your bottom lip makes you gasp and cling to my shoulders. I know that you like to be worked up slowly, and taken hard. I know that you love having your jawline bitten while my hands grip your arse. I know you have ticklish feet and can't stand having them touched, but having your ankle nibbled and the tendon bitten makes you hard as a rock. I know that licking that spot behind your ear makes your eyes roll back in your head. I know that having your hair lightly tugged makes your breath hitch." Harry lowered his voice until it was barely audible. "And I know I can make you come with just my voice."

Draco's gasped and shuddered as he did just that, and would have fallen if Harry hadn't braced him with an arm around his waist. He dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder and chuckled self-consciously. "Well, that was embarrassing."

"Why?" Harry murmured, stroking the silky blonde hair nestled against his face. "You're beautiful when you come, and I like bringing you pleasure. And that is why you're here, is it not?" His tone was lightly mocking, but he smiled softly, and stepped back once Draco's legs stopped shaking.

They sat at the table, and Draco eyed his plate, slightly intimidated by the amount of food on it. There was grilled chicken, brown rice, assorted steamed vegetables, and a dark bread of some sort that Harry claimed to have made himself (from scratch, the show off). Taking a delicate bite, he was surprised at how good it was, despite the lack of rich sauces or spices. Or house elves. Harry's amused smile simply made him glare slightly and take another bite.

"I must admit, I didn't expect to see you again." Harry spoke quietly after a while, sipping his water.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Why? I did ask if I could come back."

Harry nodded, chewing, then continued when his mouth was empty. "Considering our history, I'd assumed it was a night of curiosity and nothing more. Or that you would try to talk me into going back." He cast a sharp look at his dinner companion.

"I won't. I have to admit, I like the idea of my mystery lover being you, of all people. Blaise and Pansy are driving themselves mad trying to work out who you are." He chuckled. Leaning back, he eyed Harry's body openly. "I like knowing things other people don't. I always have. Usually it's for blackmail, but in this case, it's simply a turn on." He licked his bottom lip, and smirked as he saw Harry's eyes follow it. The smirk changed to a grin when Harry abruptly stood and dragged him into the bedroom.

"I want more."

Harry stilled at the demanding tone. "What?"

"It's been six months. I want more."

Draco had that determined look, the one that Harry knew meant trouble. He knew it because the last time it had appeared, Draco had convinced him to play some stupid drinking game that resulted in Harry throwing up off the top of the London Eye then Splinching himself when he tried to Apparate home. He cleared his throat. "Care to elaborate?"

Sitting on the scruffy coffee table, Draco leaned forward with an intensity that made Harry squirm slightly in his favourite chair. "We've been fucking for six months. I want to have a real relationship with you. I know you won't come back to the Wizarding world, and I don't care. But I want more than what we have. I want you to be mine, and to be yours. Exclusive and serious."

Harry stared, gaze darting over the familiar pale face, bereft of its usual smirks and sneers. He was surprised that Draco would speak so plainly, and even more so that he would put himself in such a potentially vulnerable position. "If you know that I won't go back, then why would you want more with me? Think about it. Say for a moment we dated and it's a year or two in the future. Then what? What happens when we want to live together? I won't move back, and you wouldn't be happy living a Muggle life. We both know that. We couldn't progress any further." He watched Draco's face carefully through his speech. He didn't want to hurt the man, quite the opposite in fact. He wanted nothing more than to agree, craved it with a hunger that chewed up his insides. But apparently he was to be the villain in this story, or at least the voice of reason. "I can't give you what you want, Draco."

Draco's eyes flared stubbornly. "We can find a compromise if we come to that point. We've managed for this long." His voice became soft, and he kneeled gracefully next to Harry's legs, resting a hand on his lover's knee. "Please Harry. Just give us a chance to find out." He leaned forward, eyes beseeching.

Harry closed his eyes, jaw clenched. He could feel his determination crumbling to non-existence, the temptation to give in surging inside his chest. "Do you remember the first night you came back? You asked about Ron and Hermione, and I told you that they had learned not to dictate to me." He opened his eyes, and his gaze was hard enough that Draco flinched. "They also learned not to try to manipulate me. I'd suggest you learn that lesson. Right now, in fact."

Draco's face paled unhealthily and he sat back, snatching his hand away like he had been burned. Harry cursed under his breath and stood. He walked to the kitchen, coming back with two tumblers of the Suntory whiskey he had won the night Draco had found him. He handed one to the shaken blonde, and resumed his seat.

"Harry, I…" Draco began in an anguished tone, but trailed off at the hard look he received.

"Draco, you need to understand. I'm not the boy you knew in school. You've gotten to know me better over the last six months, but there is still a lot you don't know. So I'll say this only once. I'll agree to more with you, but if you make demands of me like that again, you'll find out how good I am at disappearing. And if I'm feeling vindictive, I may even subject you one of my potions first."

Draco blanched, remembering the one and only time he had asked Harry to help him brew. It was shortly after their renewed acquaintance, and had somehow resulted in an explosion of purple smoke that stained everything it touched and was resistant to all methods of cleaning, magical or muggle. Worse, it was immune to glamours. Pansy and Blaise had ribbed him mercilessly about the purple splotches on his skin and hair until they finally faded a week later. Swallowing, he focused on the part of that sentence that he actually liked. "So, you agree?"

"Yeah." Harry leered slightly, trailing his fingers up Draco's arm. "I'm already used to having you around. I reckon I can cope with a bit more from your scrawny arse." He laughed at Draco's indignant squawk and ducked the cuff aimed at his head. "Come here." He yanked his sulking lover onto his lap and kissed him, showing him exactly what he wanted from said behind.

"Draco darling, walk me to the Floo?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, but escorted Pansy as requested. They paused in front of the ornate marble fireplace, and faced each other. Leaning against the mantelpiece, Draco crossed his ankles and waited patiently for her to speak.

"It's time, Draco." Pansy drew herself up, raising her chin.

"For what?" He frowned at her in confusion.

She gave him a withering look. "You've had your fun, and I think I have been more than patient with you and your constant flings. It's time to settle down. You know that your parents planned for us to marry."

Carefully blanking his face, Draco stared. "I was under the impression we had discussed this. I told you it wasn't going to happen, given that I'm gay and not even remotely attracted to you."

Pansy waved her hand dismissively. "Attraction is irrelevant. We simply need to marry and produce an heir. If you want your male lovers on the side I have no objections as long as you are discrete."

"Pansy, I'm not going to marry you. I did tell you this. And even if I did, I couldn't produce an heir with you. As far as that's concerned, a degree of attraction is relevant." Draco fought the urge to scowl, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

Pansy patted him on the arm, smiling slightly. "I know you think that, and I knew that you would object to giving up some of your freedom. But it will be alright. We will be happy. You'll see." She took a pinch of Floo powder, and disappeared into the flames.

Draco stared after her and fought the urge to run his hands through his hair in frustration. Blasted woman was like a bulldog at the best of times, and now that she had her teeth into this, it was going to be a royal pain to get her to give it up. Cursing, Draco stalked outside the wards and Apparated to the one person he knew would make him feel better. Harry had that knack.

"Did you hear about Magda Thomas?"

"Who?" Draco asked distractedly.

"Magda Thomas. A Muggleborn witch a few years behind us at Hogwarts. She had a cousin in our year, a Gryffindor. I forget his name. Anyway, I believe she graduated last year." Blaise watched him patiently.

"You mean Dean Thomas? Isn't he married to the Weaselette now? I didn't know he had a cousin." Draco played with his collar, oh so casually exposing a bruise on his neck. His efforts to tempt Blaise into asking were studiously ignored.

"'Had' is right. She was murdered yesterday." Blaise hid his smirk as Draco continued to try to steer the conversation to his mystery lover. He ignored the stab of annoyance that he still hadn't worked out who it was.

"Really? What happened?" Draco's eyes sparked with interest.

Blaise looked at Pansy, continuing to ignore Draco's incessant posturing and unsubtle hints. "She was found in her home, gutted. According to my sources, she was a real mess. There was a faint magical signature, but they haven't been able to identify it yet. They may not be able to." He paused, enjoying the look of horrified disgust on Pansy's face.

"Do they knew who did it?" Draco tried to pull Blaise's attention back to him.

Blaise shook his head. "Not yet. Word is they're looking to question her lover, but they haven't identified him yet."

"Why exactly do we care about some Mudblood getting offed?" Pansy murmured. She blushed slightly under the pitying looks she received.

"Because we care about Mudbloods now, remember?" Blaise's tone was patronising, causing Draco to smirk and Pansy to scowl.

"In public, I would agree." Sulking, Pansy finished her tea and stood, sweeping out of the room, giving Draco a significant look, which he thoroughly ignored.

Blaise watched the interaction with a frown. "What was that about?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Apparently the fact that I'm gay and told her I won't be marrying her is irrelevant. She's decided that it's time we settled down together and produced an heir."

Blaise stared. "Seriously? Aside from the obvious problems with her plan, what does your mystery man have to say on the subject? I get the impression you're serious about this one."

Draco hummed in pleasure. "He was not best pleased. Though he did express some truly creative ideas that I'm still not certain are anatomically possible, and a few suggestions for where to hide the body. He's rather protective." The smug tones were almost enough to make Blaise gag. "It's fortunate they're unlikely to meet."

"I do wish you would tell me who he is." Blaise watched the slim blonde carefully. "Or why you haven't introduced us yet. If I hadn't seen you prancing around and preening over him…" Blaise paled and trailed off. "Oh Merlin, tell me he isn't a Muggle!"

Draco snorted inelegantly, and started laughing hard enough that he toppled off his chair onto the floor, arms clutched around his aching ribs. Regaining his breath, he gasped, "No, he isn't, but I'm going to tell him you said that. He's just obsessively private."

"And he agreed to take up with you?"

Climbing back into his chair, Draco smiled and nodded peacefully, still chuckling slightly. "I do wish he would announce our relationship publicly of course, but as soppy as it sounds, he's worth it. I don't know if he'll ever reveal himself, or allow me to introduce you even if we stay together long term. I hope he might, but I won't push the issue."

Blaise whistled lowly. "I never thought I'd see the day. You've got it bad."

Pretending he wasn't blushing, Draco ignored the accusation. "Any ideas for how to deal with Pansy?"