Harco oneshots

by NayaJ2001

This is a series of Drarry and Harco oneshots by different authors made available for your easy reading pleasure by yours truly... these oneshots are spicyyyy so you behave been warned. Please, enjoy

1. Unwed Wizard by fantasyfiend09

NOTE: HELLO MY DARLING I AM BACK AGAIN WITH ANOTHER FANFICTION FYI THIS IS NOT MY SO IT'S NOT PLAGIARISM I'M JUST PUTTING IT ON A DIFFERENT PLATFORM SO IT'S AVAILABLE FOR EVERYONE ELSE. ENJOY

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Summary: Reality television has come to the wizarding world, and magic has a way of improving things.

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PART ONE

The sharp rapping on Harry's front door tore him from his thoughts. He dropped The Prophet back on the kitchen table and walked up the stairs to the front door. As an Auror, he worked with a specialist capable of removing Walburga Black's portrait, so as he walked to open the door it was only the clear, clipped sounds of impatient knocking that filled his front hall.

There was a time when he would have been surprised, or even angry, to find Pansy Parkinson on his doorstep, but the impeccably dressed woman in a tailored Muggle skirt-suit, red silk blouse, and high heels was a decade removed from the scared young woman who suggested handing him over to Voldemort.

She had traded in her pure-blood politics for Muggle entertainment and was now the incredibly successful producer of several shows on the Whipped (the wizarding world's answer to television). The Wizarding Household Internationally Produced Program Entertainment Device was actually less of an answer to television than it was a blatant forgery; even the programming was largely remade from Muggle shows. Pansy's speciality was wizarding versions of Muggle reality shows.

But it was not Pansy's sudden fondness for Muggle culture—or at least the Galleons it could make her—that had changed Harry's feelings towards his former classmate. That change had happened two years ago during an Auror investigation into one James Ellias Hedger: smuggler, kidnapper, human-trafficker, and abusive boyfriend of Draco Malfoy. Of course, at the start of the investigation the Aurors had only had information about the smuggling.

Pansy had proved immensely useful over the course of the investigation because, as Harry later learned, she was determined to get her friend's arse-of-a-boyfriend locked up and away from Draco. The more Harry had learned about Hedger, the more he had supported that cause. An unlikely partnership had grown between them, and while they didn't socialise in a way that would make them friends, they definitely shared an understanding.

He had sought her out repeatedly during the investigation for information or just to talk out strategies. And after the curse, he found her company a refreshing contrast to the pity and mollycoddling he found elsewhere.

"You inviting me in? Or are you wondering how you could beat your hair into such perfect submission?" She flicked her angular bog and every single straight black hair settled back into its rightful place. Harry snorted and stepped aside to let her in. She walked past him to the stairs and led the way back to the kitchen.

"Lovely! You've already made tea." She helped herself to a cup and filled it from the teapot on the table. Harry dutifully offered her some biscuits, which she refused with a gesture to her waistline. He set them on the table, knowing she would sneak a few as they talked. Or she talked. He didn't really do that anymore, what with the curse and all.

He raised a hand to indicate she should explain the cause of her visit. She did.

He blinked at her, probably looking like a baffled owl, and made a little loop in the air with his finger. She obliged by repeating herself.

"I want you to be a contestant on Unwed Wizard."

Unwed Wizard was Pansy's star show. It was based on a Muggle dating show in which a bunch of women competed for the affection of a bachelor. The flocks of contestants would go on elaborate private dates with the same man or participate in ridiculous 'group dates' that were often more like competitive challenges than dates.

Each episode would end with a rose ceremony in which all of the witches stood before the unwed wizard with small red rosebuds pinned to their dress robes. The unwed wizard would say the names of the witches he wanted to keep dating, and those women's buds would bloom. At the end of the ceremony, the remaining roses would wither and die, and those contestants would be sent home.

Pansy had produced two seasons of the show already, and it had been wildly successful. Not only was the show popular with Whipped watchers, the first two unwed wizards were now happily married to the witches who'd won their shows. The wizarding show was a vast improvement over the Muggle version, which had yet to produce a lasting relationship.

There were a few reasons why it didn't make sense for Harry to be a contestant on Unwed Wizard: he wasn't a witch, he had no desire to make his embarrassing love life (or lack thereof) public, and his verbal ability had been reduced to snorts and coughs.

Harry pointed at himself and raised an eyebrow. Pansy rolled her eyes. "Yes, you. I think you'd be good publicity. You've been out of the public eye for some time, and I think the public would devour even a glimpse of you." He narrowed his eyes to show he wasn't buying that. There were plenty of celebrities better suited to the show.

"Well, your curse"—she gestured with her finger at his useless vocal cords—"would add a great human-interest piece. Famous Auror hit with a Dark curse on the job and loses his ability to talk? That was great news for months! I plan to milk the where-is-he-now-poor-thing sympathy for all the ratings it's worth."

This was more believable, but Harry still had that feeling there was something more Pansy wasn't telling him. He glared at her, confident she would read it correctly. It still surprised him, but Pansy was one of the best people at interpreting him now that simple speech was denied to him.

She looked at him for several moments and then dropped her eyes. "I've asked Draco to be the bachelor."

Harry gaped at her and then realised she couldn't see it. He banged his hand against the table, and she looked up at him. He pointed at his own open mouth, and she snorted.

"Draco. He'll be the Unwed Wizard. I'm asking you to woo him." That at least explained the lack of witches part; everyone knew Draco was gay. Harry gestured to the small Whipped which sat on his kitchen counter so he could work along with cooking shows. "Yes, yes. On the Whipped." He raised his brow. "Yes, in front of the whole wizarding world. Or at least those who own a Whipped and follow Unwed Wizard."

Harry tried to convey with his eyes just how much that was to ask. It would have been a lot two years ago, back when he had his voice like every other contestant, back when he'd still been an Auror being promoted rapidly through the Corps.

"Harry?" Pansy's voice held a hint of challenge. "Are you going to sit by and let someone else win?"

And that was where she had him. Ever since Harry had worked on the case against Draco's now-thankfully-ex-boyfriend, his crush on his good-looking former rival had exploded into something closer to an obsession. It was not the first time he'd been obsessed with Draco, but in sixth-year he'd still thought of Draco Malfoy as the spoiled boy who had never known suffering. By the end of the war and Draco's trial, Harry knew that Draco had suffered too much for someone so young. And Harry had hoped that Draco's future would be free of the hardships of his past.

That hope was shattered by Hedger. Even after two years, Harry couldn't forget the moment when he had finally realised the way Hedger treated Draco. He'd seen Hedger shoving Draco into a lift at the Ministry so hard Harry had heard the thud halfway down the hallway. At that moment, all of Draco's faded bruises and odd red marks had suddenly made sense. With Harry's sudden understanding had come a deep loathing of the man who had Draco but didn't appreciate him.

Not that Harry had ever liked Hedger, but he had originally thought his negative feelings were just the result of jealousy. Harry'd already had a crush on Draco when Hedger and Draco got together, so of course he wouldn't like his crush's boyfriend. But by the end of Hedger's investigation and hearing, Harry had realised that he would have hated the man even if he'd had nothing to do with Draco. Hedger was a greedy, manipulative thug. It didn't matter how handsome he was or how nicely he dressed, underneath he was hideous.

Harry had felt great satisfaction in watching Hedger be sentenced to forty years in Azkaban. His only regret had been how little Draco had participated in the prosecution. If Hedger hadn't been a smuggler, kidnapper, and slaver on top of boyfriend-beater, he probably would have walked free.

It was seeing how much Draco was still under Hedger's influence that had persuaded Harry to hold off on approaching his crush early on in the investigation. Draco needed to break up with his boyfriend on his own and have time to heal. Harry would help the process along by exposing what Hedger really was, but he would be patient with his own romantic advances.

But a month into the investigation, a curse from an unknown assailant had removed any hope that Harry would ever speak to Draco again. How could he even hope to catch Draco's attention, let alone work through years of troubled history, when he couldn't even talk? And once Hedger's trial ended, Draco withdrew for public life. Harry had barely seen Draco in over a year.

He looked at Pansy sitting in his kitchen, sipping his tea, and casually flipping through the newspaper he'd abandoned. He realised she was offering him a chance to court Draco. And she was threatening to find someone else to do it if Harry didn't. If he agreed to do the show, he would have Draco's attention. It wouldn't be undivided—there would be a couple dozen other wizards in the competition—but at least it would give Harry a chance. He wanted to agree, but he didn't know if he had it in him to risk public humiliation.

"Zacharias Smith has agreed." Pansy hadn't even glanced up from the paper.

Smith! Smith!? Harry's blood boiled; Smith hated Draco. Harry had been at a party with Smith during the Hedger trial, and overheard Smith saying the abusive bastard was 'exactly what Malfoy deserved'. So if he was going to be a contestant on Unwed Wizard, it was not because he cared about Draco. It was for the publicity, the prize money, or some plot to hurt or humiliate Draco.

Harry wondered how many of the other contestants had similar motivations. What if Draco ended up with another boyfriend no better than Hedger? He couldn't let that happen. He glared at Pansy, and she raised her eyes with a fierce determination that showed she was following his thoughts.

"You'll do it?" He gave her a single sharp nod, and her face relaxed into a smile. "Thank you." She composed herself back into her business persona. "For the ratings boost." She smirked at him, but he knew she cared about far more about Draco's happiness than the show's ratings.

She started to get up, but he had another question. He grabbed one of the several notepads he now kept at hand throughout his house. Pulling a self-inking quill he scratched out: Why Draco? He knew she'd understand.

"For me, because he needs to try again." Worry for her friend showed in her eyes. "It's been two years. He barely . . . He needs to try again," she repeated. It was clear that was she didn't feel comfortable sharing more of her best friend's personal confidence than that. "Twenty-five men fighting over him seemed a good way to start. And for him, well . . . he said 'no' at first. Actually, he put it more colourfully. I had to have Narcissa put in a plea about good publicity for the Malfoy name. He can't refuse his mother, especially with Lucius still in Azkaban."

Harry nodded. He knew how much Draco cared about his family's reputation. It had seemed to be a far more important reason for him to distance himself from Hedger than his own personal safety had ever been. In fact, it was only after Harry secured evidence that Hedger was kidnapping Muggle-born children and selling them as slaves to foreign wizards—evidence collected from the same raid that cost Harry his voice—that Draco had finally broken up with his boyfriend.

Harry nodded again and sipped his tea as Pansy showed herself out.

~*~*~

It was almost time for his introduction. It seemed stupid to be introduced to someone he'd known for almost eighteen years, but maybe this would be a way to tell Draco he wanted to start over.

The dress robes he and Hermione had picked out were hanging at the front of his closet. They were a bottle green, similar to the robes he'd worn to the Yuletide Ball back at Hogwarts, and Molly had said those robes had brought out his eyes. He hoped these robes would do the same.

He put on the robes and carefully applied the Smoothing Charm Hermione had taught him. He was very grateful for her assistance in getting ready for the competition, especially as it showed she'd forgiven him for signing up in the first place. She hadn't been happy to realise he had signed a contract forbidding him to have contact with anyone outside the competition for over a month.

Ron had been surprisingly supportive of Harry doing the show—even after he'd learned who the bachelor would be. Ron probably saw it as a desperately needed vacation from the tedious paperwork that had been Harry's job for nearly two years. Harry had been pulled from the field after the curse, but when the Healers at St. Mungo's had declared there was nothing they could do for him, Harry had been given desk duty. He was still technically an Auror on disability leave—the Aurors didn't want to take their poster-boy off their rosters—but in reality he was a Department of Magical Law Enforcement data compiler. And he hated it. He hated knowing all about cases but not being able to actively work to solve them.

He pulled himself back from those thoughts and the risk of self-pity. He would worry about his job satisfaction after the competition, after he had Draco. He smiled at his reflection when he thought of finally winning Draco over. With a last glance in the mirror, he Apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor. Pansy was waiting with an assistant.

"Harry! Perfect timing. Number seven just went in." Pansy gestured through the gates before walking forward to pin a red rosebud to his lapel. "Once they're done, a flare will go up and we'll send you in." Harry clenched his teeth at the thought that another man was chatting up Draco at that very moment. The seventh of the night! And there'd be seventeen more after Harry'd had his chance.

"Everyone will have an introduction and then there will be a few hours of mingling. At the end of all that, Draco will say the names of those of you he is interested in dating. If he calls your name, your rosebud will bloom. He knows he has to keep at least fifteen of you, so just make sure you're more interesting than ten of these losers." She winked at him.

Harry'd spent days thinking about this introduction. The other men would all be able to talk to Draco: compliment him, tell him jokes, ask him questions. Harry couldn't do any of that. He'd thought long and hard about what he could do to communicate with Draco, and he'd finally decided on a small gift to show that there were no hard feelings between them.

While Harry had changed his impressions of Draco completely, he was pretty sure Draco still saw him as his rival from Hogwarts. Even during the Hedger case, there had been so many people involved that Draco had likely seen Harry as just a face in the crowd. Or not noticed him at all.

A small red flare flew into the sky beyond the gate.

"That's it. You're on, Harry." Pansy gestured to the gate and Harry walked through it. He felt removed from his body as he made his way up the long path to the Manor. Finally the house came into view and he could see that the front door was open. Soon he could make out the form standing a little ways back from the door with light hair and dark robes. To his side he could see the first of the small round floating cameras that would be a staple of his life for the next several weeks.

Because he wasnot going home until the competition was over.

He reached the bottom step and felt his knees weaken momentarily. Then he walked up the stairs and stepped inside Malfoy Manor. Draco looked better than he had two years ago, less gaunt and with a slight pink flush to his cheeks. The soft candlelight made his pale skin glow, and the orange of the flames danced across his fair hair.

Up close, Harry could see that the dark robes were a greyish-blue that brought out Draco's deep grey eyes—eyes that were wide with shock. Apparently no one had told him that Harry was a contestant. Pansy did love her surprises. Remembering himself, Harry extended his hand. Draco's eyes went wider still as he stared at it. Harry nearly laughed as the awkward silence grew between them. At least Harry had an excuse for being silent.

Slowly, Draco extended his hand and took Harry's. His skin was incredibly soft and slightly cool despite the warm June weather. They shook, but Draco did not look up from their hands. Harry'd planned to smile, but what was the point if Draco wouldn't look at him? Impulsively, he wrapped his left hand around their clasped hands. At that, Draco looked up and Harry had his chance to smile.

"Potter," Draco said. It was a little breathy, but otherwise toneless. Harry frowned at the formality, and Draco seemed to understand. "I suppose you will be Harry for the competition." Harry nodded and gave a small smile. He opened his mouth to say 'Draco', to try it on his lips, but remembered he couldn't speak. Two years and he could still forget.

He frowned. Draco looked serious, as well. "I heard." Harry gave a little nod. He didn't want to talk about the curse. He wanted to show Draco that he saw him differently now; he wanted to start over. He reached into his robes and pulled out the golden Snitch he had bought for Draco. He held it out and revelled in the feel of his smooth skin as their hands brushed together.

Draco took it and eyed it with a blank expression. Harry was eager to know what he thought. Was it too corny? Was Draco annoyed he was referencing their former Quidditch rivalry? Did he think Harry was presumptuous? Draco slid the snitch into his pocket.

"Thank you." His tone gave nothing away. "There is a cocktail party in the ballroom. I'll join you when everyone has arrived." He gave a little nod and a small smile and then turned back to the door. Harry, duly dismissed, followed another assistant to the ballroom.

~*~*~

The inside of Malfoy Manor was warmer and brighter than it had been during the war. Harry had been there a few times for charity events and was vaguely familiar with the ballroom and the formal gardens. That night, the ballroom was arranged for whiling away the hours in comfort. Long buffet tables ran one length of the room and provided a variety of canapés and drinks. The rest of the room was arranged around a grand fireplace, with a few sofas and several wingback chairs providing places to sit and chat. Enjoying the luxurious setting when Harry arrived were the first seven suitors.

Smith wasn't there yet, but Harry recognised two of the other men immediately. One was a Ministry playboy. He was a Hitwizard who seemed to have a new piece of eye-candy on his arm at every Ministry event. He struck Harry as the type who would like Draco for his looks, a bit of variety, and possibly the challenge. But Hitwizard would have no interest in a serious relationship.

The other wizard was the personal assistant to a member of the Wizengamot. He was also handsome, and Harry had heard he was very ambitious. The man intended to have a Wizengamot seat of his own someday, but needed more gold to fund his campaign. Harry was certain that Draco's vaults and the show's prize money were the major appeal for Wizengamot.

After a few minutes of listening to the other men brag at each other, Harry had sized-up (and mentally named) Twitchy, Vulture-eyes, Muscles, Conceited, and Bimbo. None of them impressed Harry any more than Hitwizard and Wizengamot had. These men saw Draco as a means to an end, a prize for a victory, or an interesting diversion in a long line of entertainment. None of them cared about Draco as a person.

As each new man arrived, with the exception of Smith and a few others he already knew, Harry made a point to eavesdrop on their conversations and pass judgement on them. Some of the men sought Harry out on their own; even out of the public eye he maintained a certain level of fame. It should have been awkward—what with his inability to reply—but most of the men seemed so enamoured of their own voices, they probably failed to realise he hadn't said a word.

The only contestant who showed any interest in Draco as a person was a boy who could not have been more than four years out of Hogwarts. With his bleached, spiky hair, and big brown eyes, he had a sweetness that made it hard for Harry to dislike him, even if he was competition. That said, Harry couldn't imagine Draco dating a boy who thought, "And I was like, oh my god, you know?" was actually a sentence. Rainbow, as Harry named him, might not have nefarious plans, but he still wasn't what Draco needed in a partner.

None of the contestants were—except Harry, of course. With each obnoxious, arrogant, and asinine comment uttered by one of his rivals, Harry grew more and more determined to win.

He knew Draco would arrive soon and join the mingling, and Harry would have only a few hours to impress him before the first rose ceremony sent several of them home.

~*~*~

"You, Potter? Really?" Harry knew that low, acerbic voice, and it made him feel like a fourteen-year-old idiot all over again. It was not a great feeling during a televised cocktail party in which he was competing for Draco's affection. He turned to look at the portrait over the mantle of the drawing room he'd wandered into. There on the wall, towering over the trembling little witch who'd been dancing in the portrait when Harry arrived, was Severus Snape.

He lifted a hand in greeting. Snape rolled his eyes. "I cannot believe that this is the best Pansy could put together. You have half a brain collectively." Harry glared half-heartedly. He wanted to ask about the other contestants, but he couldn't think of a way to mime it.

Actually, he really wanted to ask where Draco and Hitwizard had gone and what they were doing. Since Draco had joined the party two hours ago, he had been led away by one man after another for little private chats. Harry always seemed to be on the wrong side of the room when Draco returned and never made it to him before someone else swept Draco away again. Watching the object of his affection be repeatedly offered and then pulled away again was driving him mental. Instead of waiting passively in the ballroom, he decided to seek Draco out.

Harry glanced back at the portrait and saw Snape was gone. He felt vaguely disappointed and reflected on how it was surely the first time he'd missed Snape's presence. Well, if Snape couldn't help him, he'd simply have to find Draco himself.

He found Draco and Hitwizard in the next room. They were sitting close together on a sofa and Hitwizard had his hand raised as if gesturing or about to touch Draco. When Harry walked in, Hitwizard glared at him.

"Do you mind?" he snapped. Harry shrugged casually and walked over to sit in a chair across from the sofa. "Excuse you. This a private conversation." Hitwizard's cheeks grew flushed, but Harry kept his own face blank. He glanced at Draco, who was glancing between the two contestants nervously.

Harry didn't want to start a fight—he suspected Draco had already had a lifetime's worth of those—so he casually picked up a book off the coffee table, stood up and strode over to the window. He could still watch Hitwizard, but he wasn't provoking the other man to cause a scene.

Hitwizard still looked irritated and didn't seem to know how to proceed with his unwanted audience. He started telling a boastful story about a job he'd done a few years before, but Harry had been involved with the case and knew the man was exaggerating to the point of lying. Harry snorted when Hitwizard claimed to have single-handedly brought down a gang of robbers. Harry knew two other Hitwizards who'd been part of that raid, and there had probably been even more.

He glanced to the sofa and saw Hitwizard glaring at him. Harry batted his eyes and raised his palms up innocently. Stealing a glimpse at Draco, he saw the small smile that was hidden from Hitwizard by a glass of wine.

Before anything else could be said or done, a magic chime announced the beginning of the first rose ceremony. Harry felt disappointed as he walked with Draco and Hitwizard back to the ballroom. It was time for the first elimination, and he hadn't had a single moment alone with Draco since the introductions.

~*~*~

Harry sat on his bed in the massive wizarding tent pitched on the front lawn of Malfoy Manor. He was glad they were relegated to the tent rather than being allowed to stay in the Manor; it showed Draco's reluctance to let a bunch of strange men live in his home for weeks. Harry actually thought it was imprudent that the contestants were allowed access to the ground floor of the Manor during the day. Yes, they needed places to eat meals and entertain themselves, but the Auror in him didn't like the thought of any of the other men being inside Draco's home. At least everyone was sent back to the tent at night.

The tent itself was surprisingly luxurious, with queen-size beds for each contestant and several spacious bathrooms. Harry had been suitably impressed the first night when the contestants had been shown their quarters. Eighteen years in the wizarding world, and magic could still surprise him.

"Card from Draco!" someone yelled and the occupants of the tent all stood and headed to the opening of the tent. Bimbo was there waving a card over his head. He broke the seal and read it silently. "Ooh, Gustav!" He handed the card over to Ego, who looked far too pleased. "The rest of us are supposed to 'show how we handle wood'." He made a frown, which Harry had learned was part of his attempts at thinking.

"Broomstick?" Rock Star suggested from his place on his bed. He'd had a private date the day before, so like Ego, he would be spared the group date challenge. "With fourteen of you, it's a bit perfect for Quidditch."

"How is us playing Quidditch a date?" Conceited said, pouting.

Wizengamot rolled his eyes. "Did you never watch the show before becoming a contestant?" At Conceited's blank expression, Wizengamot made a sound of disgust. "Only the private dates are real dates this early in the competition. The group dates are more like challenges for us to show off for the unwed wizard."

"And make arses of ourselves for ratings," Twitchy threw in. Several of the contestants laughed at that, but others shifted nervously.

~*~*~

Rock Star had been right, and they had played a ruthless game of Quidditch for the enjoyment of Draco and the viewers who would watch it on the Whipped weeks later. Draco and Pansy had sat in the stands sipping champagne, nibbling on strawberries, and occasionally clapping at the game.

Harry had been made Seeker for his team and struggled to find the Snitch among the show's floating circular cameras. Luckily the other Seeker was equally confused. Harry had finally caught the Snitch before his incompetent Keeper had been able to let in more Quaffles. At least the Keeper was better than the Beaters—Twitchy hadn't been kidding about them making arses of themselves.

Harry's timely catch of the Snitch had won the game for his team. He'd earned a fully bloomed rose for himself and dinner with Draco for his whole team. He'd been pleased with the rose that would keep him safe from the second elimination a couple of days later. He'd even been excited about dinner—it was certainly much closer to his own definition of a date—but that had changed soon enough.

They were finishing their soup course and Harry felt completely invisible. There were seven of them vying for Draco's attention, but Draco seemed to be content to talk only with Rainbow and Vulture-Eye, who sat on either side of him. Harry's frustration grew as the main courses were served, and Draco still did not look beyond the two men beside him.

Harry stabbed at a carrot with a bit too much vigour, and it flew across the table into Ego's face. That improved his mood marginally. But it soured once again when Draco excused himself before dessert, and Harry was stuck with the company of only his competitors.

~*~*~

Harry rested his head in his hands as he sat in the conservatory of Malfoy Manor. He was discovering different places to hide away and sulk, and this was one of his favourites. Feeling the sun pouring through the glass ceiling, he reflected on the competition so far.

It hadn't been easy, but he'd always known to expect that. Now, after more than a week, he'd outlasted half of the original contestants. He would just keep working to make sure he won the competition. He had to. He wouldn't let someone like Hedger get close to Draco and hurt him. Draco deserved to be worshipped, and Harry wanted to be the one to do it.

But how was he going to win if he couldn't get any time with Draco? Every other day, Draco would Portkey off to exotic places for sightseeing and romantic meals with another wizard. A wizard who wasn't Harry. Eight days into the competition, and Harry had only seen Draco on so-called group dates, at the cocktail parties, and at the rose ceremonies. He hadn't had him alone since their introduction!

Just thinking about the elimination ceremonies made Harry's heart speed up with nerves. Even the second ceremony, in which he had his group date rose and thus a guarantee he wasn't going home, had still been uncomfortable.

The first rose ceremony had been unbearable. He had stood with the other contestants and Draco had called names one at a time. The named wizard would then watch as the rosebud on his lapel (the ceremonies always included dress robes, which only added to Harry's discomfort) opened to reveal its velvet petals. Harry hadn't been one of the first called, but he hadn't been last either.

Once Harry had a full bloom that first night, he'd watched to see who Draco would send home. The man was clearly not an idiot. He hadn't bought Smith's sudden affection and had sent him home along with several other wizards Harry hadn't liked. Of course, Harry hadn't liked any of the other wizards, but Draco had chosen the nine worst to eliminate before they could even settle into the Manor grounds.

Three more wizards had been sent home a few nights ago at the second rose ceremony. That part had pleased Harry, at least. What Harry didn't like was that despite winning two group date roses, he hadn't had more than a few moments of Draco's attention in the past week.

The second "group date" had been yesterday and had started with each wizard having to brew a potion for Draco in the Manor's own potions lab. Harry had been nervous about the task—he still wasn't very good at Potions—and had sought out a cauldron in a far corner of the lab. He had thought he was hallucinating when, five minutes into preparing his ingredients, he heard Snape's voice muttering something.

Rather than a flashback, he had realised that his former professor had appeared in a frame on the wall next to him. He'd felt even more nervous then, expecting Snape to criticise and embarrass him as he had back at Hogwarts. Instead, Snape had glanced around and then repeated his comment in a low but clear tone.

"Cut them off." Harry had glanced down at the petals he was about to pick off the daisy he held. Making sure no camera was near, he'd looked back at the portrait and raised a questioning brow. "Even a trace amount of the pollen from the centre will weaken the properties of the petals. Cut them off higher up the petal." Harry had nodded and carefully cut off the petals.

"Don't add them until the potion is grass green. Even if the five minutes is up." Harry had nodded again and watched the potion slowly change colour before adding the petals. It had continued on like that with Snape muttering suggestions and corrections with only a fraction of his usual scorn. It was almost as if the man—portrait—wanted Harry to do well.

In the end, Harry's potion had been judged the best of the group, and Draco had given him the bloomed rose that would keep him safe in the third elimination. He would have felt better about it if Draco hadn't looked a bit sour as he pinned the rose on his shirt.

Harry looked up from his hands and out the glass walls of the conservatory. Draco was off on another private date, so there was no chance of Harry bumping into him if he tried. This date was with Ego—not to be confused with the previously-eliminated Conceited.

Ego was a wealthy pure-blooded wizard in his mid-thirties who, unlike most of the contestants, actually thought highly of the Malfoys. Given that a man's family tree and vault contents were of the utmost importance to him, it wasn't surprising that the Malfoys would meet with his rare approval. Harry certainly hadn't. Not that he cared what a prat like Ego thought of him.

That night, Ego would return with a cocky grin and tales just like the last three had. Harry was sure of it. In the meantime, Harry and the other twelve wizards were left to entertain themselves at the Manor. He wished once again that he could visit, or at least owl, his friends. Feeling too agitated to remain seated, he decided to explore more of the Manor.

~*~*~

An hour later, he was wandering the hall near the far east end of the Manor. Despite exploring various rooms and the treasures they held, he still couldn't distract himself from thoughts of Draco's date with Ego.

"Potter!" He turned and saw Snape appear in the frame next to him. "Quickly! Come quickly! There are two delinquents in the drawing room stealing!" Harry turned and walked quickly down the hall as Snape moved from picture to picture beside him. When he could hear voices, he put a finger to his lips to indicate Snape should be quiet. The portrait huffed silently from the framed view of a seascape. Harry didn't know if the huff was for his shushing gesture or the sea water that was wetting Snape's still-greasy hair.

"Look at this!" came the first voice from the drawing room. "Bet that would fetch a Sickle or two."

"Melted down, maybe," came the reply. "It's too hideous to be used as a candlestick. A bit bulky to stash in one's robes, though. How about this?"

"There you go! No one would notice that. Looks expensive, too."

"Of course it is! That's all these Malfoys care about. Gold and power."

"Well, I think we deserve a little reward for putting up with that git for the past week. There's no way I'm going home from this empty-handed." There was some laughing and the sounds of metal clinking and cloth swishing. Harry had heard enough.

He walked into the room and saw Wizengamot and Twitchy standing next to a delicately carved wood table. He Petrified Wizengamot, grateful yet again for Hogwart's emphasis on non-verbal spellcasting. He ducked a spell from Twitchy and Petrified him as well. He was just lowering his wand when Harry heard the sounds of approaching footsteps.

"What's going on in here?" demanded one of Pansy's many assistants. She raised her own wand against Harry.

"You!" seethed Snape. He turned to Harry. "I tried to enlist this fool's help before finding you, but she completely ignored me."

"You're a picture!" the girl yelled back, suddenly seeming very young.

"What's going on in here?" Pansy stormed in, unwittingly echoing her assistant.

"These baboons were pilfering Malfoy property," Snape drawled. "Boy Wonder here saved the day." The last part was said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. Pansy looked from Snape to the Petrified men and then at Harry.

"Is that true?" Harry nodded. He walked over to Wizengamot and turned out his pockets. He found a small gold pillbox that made Pansy gasp. From Twitchy he retrieved a ceramic egg and a paperweight. Pansy clearly recognised the items because her face was a mask of fury.

"Get out!" she spat. "You're eliminated. I'm not even waiting for Draco to get back. Out!" She turned to the assistant now trembling at her side. "Escort them off the grounds and make sure they touch nothing. We'll owl their belongings back to them. Eventually." With a few flicks of her wand, Pansy released the men from Harry's spells, but bound their arms to their sides with hot pink ropes. Only Pansy would learn how to change the colour of Conjured ropes.

When they were gone, Pansy turned to Harry with a softer look. "Are you all right?" He nodded. She studied him a moment and then nodded back. "Well, thank you." She laughed. "That'll make the rose ceremony less exciting this round; only one person will be getting a withered rose." She sighed and walked away, probably to ensure her assistant was following orders properly.

Harry decided he'd had enough of being inside and decided to go out into the garden. He wandered for some time before he stumbled upon Pansy by a large rose bush. She picked a red rosebud and then cast a series of spells on it. When she'd finished, she looked up and saw him watching her.

"Preservation Charms," she explained. "They need to stay fresh and intact the whole night." Harry had recognised those wand movements, but he knew she'd cast more than simple Preservation Charms. He twirled his hand horizontally, and she sighed. "You're not going to believe that's all, are you?" He shook his head.

"Fine. I charm the roses to change shade based on the wearer's heart-rate. Did you know Muggles use heart-rate as a way to check for lying? Well, so do I. A dark red rose means the wearer is calm and probably not hiding anything. A lighter shade means they're nervous." Harry gave her a confused look—surely all the contestants were nervous during the rose ceremony.

Pansy smiled her predatory smile. "The contestants wear the roses all night, whether they're buds or blooms. They pin them on at the beginning of the night when they're still pretty calm, and they wear them until they're nursing their final drink before bed. With all that time spent drinking and bragging at each other, I have plenty of time to observe the way their roses change colour. And if I sometimes mingle to ask questions of my own . . ."

She shrugged as if to say, 'who cares, it's my show'. "I listen to what they say and notice how it affects their roses. The change is subtle enough that the contestants never notice. But I learn a lot."

Harry gaped at her conniving brilliance. His awe must have shown on his face, because Pansy stood a little taller and preened a bit. "Well, I wasn't very satisfied with the success rates of Muggle dating shows. Most of the couples on those shows don't last until broadcasting! And what sort of witch would I be if I didn't take advantage of magic?"

She leaned closer to him and dropped her voice to a whisper. "One of the wizard's sent home at the last elimination had lied so much that first night, I was worried his rose would turn white. A few subtle comments to Draco and the contestant went home a few days later."

Harry smiled at her, feeling a little more confident that Draco was in good hands.

It was Harry's fourth group date. At least this time there were only six of them vying for Draco's attention. Harry sighed. Even with the smaller number, it would be a challenge. Especially as the only contestant who couldn't speak.

"Hey, Sugar! Ready to party?" He looked up from his bed in the tent and saw Rainbow smiling down at him. The boy was wearing very tight jeans and a purple t-shirt for a Muggle rock band. The sleeves had been ripped off the shirt to show off the fluttering fairy tattoo on his bicep and the plastic bracelets around his wrists. With the addition of his jewelled piercings and his sparkly shoes, he was a little blinding to look at.

Harry nodded and followed Rainbow out of the tent. They joined Bimbo, Rock Star, Vulture-eyes and Ego on the lawn. Jock and Hitwizard had secured private dates that round and were thus exempt from the group date. They'd decided to take advantage of Draco's Quidditch pitch for the day. Bastards.

Rainbow and Bimbo nattered on about possible destinations, but Harry just stared at the door to the Malfoy Manor in eager anticipation. Finally it opened and Draco emerged. He was dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt, a grey waistcoat, and black pants. He looked incredible.

"Oh, isn't he such a hottie?" Rainbow cooed next to him. "He wore the most amazing Muggle suit on our one-on-one date." Rainbow made a little groan of appreciation, and Harry reminded himself not to hate him. It was nice to have someone for company after two weeks away from his friends. And Rainbow was, under the plastic and glitter, a genuinely sweet young man.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Draco greeted them.

"Good morning to you, Sugar," Rainbow replied and received a smile.

"You look stunning," Ego added, and Draco turned to him. Harry wanted to wave or give a greeting, but Draco was now facing away from him. An assistant came over with a Muggle hula hoop.

"Grab hold," Draco instructed, and they all put a hand on the hoop. A pull behind his navel confirmed Harry's assumption that it was a Portkey. It was the worst Portkey of his life. He wasn't sure where they were, but he felt as if he'd been around the world three times and left his stomach in Wiltshire.

"Oh my god! It's Venice!!" Blinking against his dizziness, Harry could make out Rainbow's yellow hair and purple shirt bouncing up and down. He shut his eyes again when his head began to pound. They couldn't be in Italy. Harry'd Portkeyed to Italy for work, and it had never made him feel like this. He blinked and slowly walked to where Rainbow stood at the mouth of the alley.

As his vision cleared, he looked out at the beach in front of him. He took in the blue sky, palm trees, and Muggle women in bikinis on roller-skates. This wasn't Italy. One of the show's cameras floated by him, and he hoped it was Charmed so the Muggles wouldn't notice it.

"Welcome to Venice Beach in Los Angeles, California," Draco drawled from Harry's shoulder. Harry looked at him, but he'd already turned away. "We'll be having lunch at the other end of the Boardwalk. Feel free to duck into shops and watch the performers on the way." He gestured to a Muggle swallowing a flaming stick, and Harry hoped the performer was secretly a wizard. Rock Star made a joke about heartburn, and the most of the group laughed.

As they began walking, Bimbo took one side of Draco, asking questions about their day, and Ego took the other, muttering disparaging comments about Muggles. Rainbow was already off trying on hot pink sunglasses at a vendor's stall, so Harry fell in step with Rock Star. Vulture-eyes took Rock Star's other side, but he was focused on glaring daggers into Bimbo's back.

Harry felt quite out of place among the tan American Muggles. Draco and Ego were the only ones paler than he was, and next to the dark skin of Rock Star, Harry probably looked ghostly. Not to mention that his simple t-shirt and jeans were far too boring for the fashionable beach. Draco and Ego were in conservative attire, but their clothes were perfectly tailored and fashionably cut. Harry was probably the only one of them who didn't look like a model on his lunch break.

As they entered the little café for lunch, Harry elbowed his way to Draco's side. He considered pulling Draco's chair out for him, but worried it would send the wrong message. It was the type of thing Ginny would have punched him for back when they'd dated, and she was a girl. Instead, he silently sat at Draco's side. Vulture-eyes took the chair on the other side of Draco.

Champagne was brought out with the menus, and Harry took a minute to appreciate just how much this was Pansy's show. Of course they would have a champagne lunch on the boardwalk of a trendy American city. Pansy was probably sunning on the beach at that moment.

"Are we gonna go to Santa Monica?" Rainbow was bouncing in his chair. "I wanna buy some Muggle clothes and the Promenade is so cool! Oh! We could go on the Ferris wheel on the pier!" Ego mumbled something about London and 'Muggle monstrosity,' but no one seemed to be listening.

"I want to see Melrose," Rock Star put in. "They have vintage shops that are awesome."

"The best shopping is in Beverly Hills," Ego drawled. "There's a fine wizarding quarter there." Harry wondered how everyone seemed to know so much about a city thousands of miles from England.

"Forget shopping. Let's look for celebrities!" Bimbo's eyes grew wider than usual as he likely imagined meeting some star or other.

"I'm just glad I get to spend the day with you," Vulture-eyes purred as he placed his hand over Draco's on the table. Harry wanted to throw up. Or punch him. Instead he picked up the basket of fresh bread and held it out for Draco. Draco took a piece and gave him a smile before someone else asked a question, and Harry lost his attention again.

~*~*~

After lunch, they all tried roller-skating on a bike path through the sand. Rainbow took to it with ease and started dancing and shaking his arse as he skated around them. Ego huffed a lot and fell far behind them as he basically walked in the skates. The rest of them gave it a good try and just tried to aim their falls onto the soft sand and not the concrete path.

Bimbo had one spectacular fall that led to him lying across Draco in the sand. Harry suspected it had been carefully staged; who wouldn't want to have a flustered, gasping Draco beneath him? Draco looked erotic with his hair splayed out in the sand, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes wide in surprise.

Once the tart had crawled off Draco, Rainbow had pulled Draco up into his skate-dancing routine. Draco had smiled and allowed the boy to dance against him suggestively. Harry looked over at Vulture-eyes' scary death-stare and hoped he didn't look half as crazy when he was glaring at his rivals. Although he probably did when he saw Draco handing Rainbow the fully bloomed group date rose for his skating.

More wheels followed the skating. "What is a trip to Los Angeles without a spin in a Muggle automobile?" Pansy asked as she led them to a silver sports car. She pulled on racing gloves and large sunglasses before getting into the driver's seat. Harry seriously hoped Pansy's exploitation of Muggle culture had included her actually learning how to drive.

The car was magically expanded, or they would never have all fit into a Porsche. They whipped along the freeway, weaving in and out of the other cars and staring out at the massive, sprawling city. Soon after they'd passed the tall buildings of Downtown, they left the freeway for a residential area of grand houses and perfectly kept lawns.

"We're going to the Huntington," Draco told them. "It has grounds that surpass even Malfoy Manor and an extensive library and art gallery of Muggle and wizarding work."

The Huntington lived up to Draco's claims. They strolled through various gardens of flora from all over the world, and Harry wished he had Neville with him to provide his insight. Ego seemed to know a fair amount—or at least thought he did—and nattered away incessantly. Inside the residence-turned-art gallery, Harry recognised several of the works and their artists from Hermione's mandatory museum trips. He remembered facts and stories that would interest Draco, but there was no way for him to convey his knowledge. He resisted kicking the walls. Barely.

Pansy had a limousine waiting for them that evening, and they all piled in as Bimbo opened the champagne. Soon they were back on one of the city's many freeways. Harry noticed that the multi-laned road was blocked up with cars, yet the limo seemed to easily manoeuvre through the traffic. Good old magic, again.

They skirted Downtown and rode into Hollywood. Most of them were staring out the window, but Harry kept glancing back at Draco. For one brief moment, he saw Draco looking down at his hands with a look of worry or nervousness. But when he looked up at Harry, his face was carefully composed again.

They arrived at a very trendy-looking Japanese restaurant in West Hollywood. "Look out for celebrities!" Rainbow advised. Rock Star and Bimbo elbowed their way to either side of Draco at the large round table, so Harry chose the seat directly across from him.

He occasionally caught Draco's eye, but it was hard to convey more than a smile or occasionally a raised eyebrow at another contestant's ridiculous comment. When Rock Star started bragging about his last trip to Japan, Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. He heard a choked sound and looked up in time to meet dancing grey eyes as Draco used a cough to cover his laugh. That moment alone made the whole day worthwhile.

---

PART TWO

Harry was giddy. He finally had a private date with Draco. Pansy had probably twisted Draco's arm, what with Harry being the only one of the remaining six contestants to not have had a private date yet. After two and a half weeks of wanting nothing more, Harry practically bouncing around his bedroom.

Well, Draco's bedroom, technically. After the day before, when Rock Star's and Jock's eliminations had taken their number down to six, Draco had offered each of the remaining contestants their own room within the Manor. Harry knew it was an act of trust, especially after the failed theft only a week and a half before.

The only information Harry had about his date was a simple note card on which Draco had written, Time to face the past. Just thinking about it turned some of Harry's excitement to nerves. Where were they going? What were they doing?

He had images of them returning to the courtroom where Harry had testified for Draco after the war or to the courtroom where Harry had watched Draco learn the truth about the monster he'd dated and lived with. But who went on a date to the Ministry?

"Potter, you are either painfully constipated or you're attempting to think again." Harry turned to glare at Snape. The portrait had harassed him repeatedly since the night before. The only thing that made it tolerable was that the former-professor spent most of the time complaining about the other five contestants.

It had been confusing at first—Snape used different names—but it had been easy enough to piece together. Harry's Bimbo was Snape's Gormless. Harry's Hitwizard was Snape's Playboy. And Harry's Vulture-eyes was Snape's Obsessive. "If you don't get your arse downstairs, Draco will probably go off with Obsessive again. The man has been biting his arm off for another date for a week. Do you want that to happen?"

The thought of Draco spending alone time with Vulture-eyes, who watched Draco as if he were a prized possession, motivated Harry out the door and down to the foyer. Pansy and an assistant were waiting.

"Harry! Cutting it close. The Portkey goes off in five minutes." She glared at him, and then her face softened. "You look nice." She tried to pat down the hair sticking up on the back of his head and then gave up. He tugged on his dark-green T-shirt and looked around for Draco. "He's outside. You ready?" He nodded and followed her outside into the warm summer air.

Draco was wearing a light grey button-down shirt and fitted, dark-grey trousers. The outfit showed off his tall lean figure, and the soft colours brought out his eyes. The morning sun reflected off his bright silver hair and Harry thought he looked ethereal.

"Potter," Draco drawled by way of greeting. He glanced at Pansy. "Sorry. Harry. Ready?" He held out a wooden spoon and Harry took hold of the handle. This close, Harry could tell that Draco used a citrus shampoo and see the exact curve of the shell of his ear. He tried to commit everything to memory. Draco looked at him and held his gaze as the feeling of a hook behind his navel pulled them away.

They landed on a grassy hill on the edge of a village Harry immediately recognised: Hogsmeade. He turned to Draco and raised one brow. "I said the past, didn't I?" Harry nodded, and they both began walking into town. "A bakery opened up a few years ago. I thought we'd have breakfast there." Harry smiled at the thought of them having tea and scones together.

"It's weird, you not talking. In school I would have loved it." Harry bumped his shoulder against Draco's and received a little chuckle for his efforts. "Now, it's a bit awkward." Harry stopped walking and frowned. He pulled out a Muggle notebook and pen.

I can write, if you'd like

He handed it to Draco, who read it and seemed to reflect before answering.

"You're actually pretty good at communicating without words, but there are times I think the writing might be a good idea." They walked into the bakery and waited in line behind an elderly woman who was chatting with the girl behind the counter. Harry looked at the posted menu and the various baked goods on display.

"Tea?" Draco was looking at him with a soft smile that made Harry feel warm despite the bakery's Cooling Charms. He nodded with a smile of his own. He pointed at the sausage rolls in the display case and then held up two fingers. "Two? How do you keep your figure?" Draco turned back to the girl behind the counter, who was now waiting to serve them, but Harry saw a touch of pink on his high cheek bones.

They sat down at a small table and watched people through the window. It was the summer holidays, so there were no students to see.

"Weird to be back here," Draco mused. Harry took out his notebook again.

Come back often?

"Not really. Maybe a couple times a year. You?"

Same

As they sat in silence, Draco's brow furrowed and his body grew stiff.

You're different now

Harry passed the note over. Draco read it and laughed. It sounded a little bitter.

"I should hope so. It's been long enough. I've spent more years away than I did here." Harry gestured between them with his hand. "Yes, I couldn't have imagined us having breakfast together as children."

date

Draco arched a brow, but he slowly nodded.

"Yes, it's a date. And that's even more peculiar than us just having a hex-free meal."

peculiar?

"Really, Potter? You don't think it's a bit odd that after spending years hating each other, trying to kill each other, we're now on a date?"

Harry

He underlined it twice.

I never hated you. I just thought I did—young and stupid. I never tried to kill you. Bathroom in sixth-year was an accident. I didn't know what the spell did. I'm sorry. I'm really glad you were okay.

Draco stared at the note for a long time. A very long time. Harry wondered if he would leave and end their date right there. Finally, Draco let out a long sigh. "I guess I didn't hate you either." He looked up and his eyes were bright. "Harry." They settled in a comfortable silence.

~*~*~

After breakfast they walked around Hogsmeade for a while. Harry would point out items in shops he thought Draco would like and make appropriately appalled faces at the twee trinkets Draco held up. A few of his looks earned hearty chuckles from Draco, and the sound warmed his belly.

"We'll get lunch at the Three Broomsticks and then go up to Hogwarts," Draco explained once the sun was high overhead. "There aren't any students, but McGonagall said we could look around." He blushed before adding, "She said she was glad we'd moved beyond pulling each other's pigtails."

Harry laughed at that, even though he hated his laugh since the curse. It sounded closer to coughing or wheezing. Draco looked a little surprised, and it made Harry self-conscious. He reached out and gently tugged a lock of Draco's hair. Draco looked bemused, so Harry stuck out his tongue. Draco seemed to get the pigtail reference and broke into his own, much nicer sounding, laugh.

Harry couldn't help it. Draco was smiling and laughing and looking at him as if he weren't an enemy. Without thinking, Harry leant forward and placed a kiss on his lips. It was a short, chaste kiss, but Harry still felt his cheeks burn. Draco, for his part, just blinked owlishly.

Thinking that he had clearly not done enough to win Draco over yet, Harry gestured with his head to the Three Broomsticks. Draco blinked a couple more times.

"Oh. Yes. Lunch." Draco walked next to him as they entered the pub. Harry had heard from Neville that Madam Rosmerta had moved away several years before, so at least that wouldn't add to the awkwardness. They sat at a table and Harry pulled out his pad and pen again. A waitress came over and Harry ordered in the way he perfected in French restaurants long before he had lost his voice: he pointed to the items on the menu.

"You really are rather good at that." Harry lifted a brow. "Talking without talking. You always wore your feelings on your face, so maybe it's not surprising." Harry rolled his eyes but smiled.

Draco nodded at Harry's notepad. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Harry had hundreds, but not all of them were appropriate. 'Why did you let Hedger treat you the way he did?' was not first date material. Instead, he enquired about Draco's friends and the recent work of a charity Draco supported. Harry supported it, too—partially for its noble work, and partially for the invitation to the annual ball Draco hosted at Malfoy Manor.

Draco, for his part, politely enquired about Harry's own friends. Harry wrote a long note about Hermione and Ron, and Draco took the time to read it and even follow up with questions. Harry avoided the topic of his career—two years of long-term disability leave and tedious paperwork did not make for exciting conversation.

~*~*~

They stood at the gates to Hogwarts and waited.

"You're not going to hex me the second we step on the grounds, are you?" Draco tone was playful, but Harry thought he saw a glint of apprehension in his eyes. He smiled warmly, shook his head, and then gently took Draco's hand. Draco went rigid beside him, but he didn't pull his hand away. Harry squeezed his hand and felt Draco relax slightly.

A grumbling Filch appeared—looking more haggard than ever—and let them in with only a few warnings and threats. Harry kept Draco's hand in his as they revisited the setting of their childhood rivalry. They walked to the Quidditch field and Draco pulled out the snitch Harry had given him at the start of the competition.

"Were you trying to tell me I'm not your rival anymore?" Draco's tone was light, but Harry felt there was a seriousness to the question. Harry took the Snitch from his hand and threw it as hard as he could into the air. Draco looked a little shocked, until he saw the Snitch turn in the air and flutter back down to his hand. Harry pointed from the Snitch to Draco, then looking Draco right in the eyes, he pointed from the centre of his chest to Draco. There was a sharp intake of breath that drew Harry's attention from those intense grey eyes to Draco's perfect pink lips. He leaned forward and gave Draco another quick kiss.

Draco's cheeks were stained pink when Harry pulled away, and he stood rigidly still. Harry briefly panicked that his kiss had not been wanted. But then Draco gave him a small, shy smile that Harry returned tenfold. He took Draco's hand again and led him up to the castle.

They wandered the halls of their youth—together for the first time. Harry showed Draco where the kitchens were and how to get in. Draco showed Harry a small room with colourful stained glass he'd never seen. They entered the bathroom where Harry had used Sectumsempra, and he carefully kissed the palm of his hand and laid it over Draco's chest. Draco placed his own hand over Harry's and whispered, "I forgave you years ago."

After that Draco seemed drained, so Harry led the way down the stairs. He didn't want to risk going further up into the castle and bringing up memories from the Astronomy Tower or the Room of Requirement. This was his date, and he didn't want to spend it reliving their past.

They entered the Great Hall and found it set for two. As soon as they sat down, a feast appeared before them with roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, various vegetables, and a bottle of red wine. "I'll bet there'll be treacle tart for dessert," Draco said, breaking the silence. "This whole castle seems to love you."

Harry just stuck his tongue out in reply. "I see the loss of speech hasn't actually affected the sophistication of your communication." Harry smiled and threw a bread roll at him. Draco laughed, and it filled the empty hall like music. Harry wondered, not for the first time, what Hogwarts would have been like if he'd not dismissed Draco so quickly.

He looked across the table and met Draco's eyes. He pulled out his notebook and scribbled a message for Draco—one he hoped would convey all that he could see in Draco now but had missed before. He watched Draco's eyes widen as he read, I have 17 years to make up to you.

He hoped Draco knew he meant it.

~*~*~

~*~*~

It was another rose ceremony day, and two more contestants would be going home after the cocktail party that night. Not Harry, of course. Draco had handed him an open rose at the end of their private date, and he had been carrying it ever since. He was grateful for the Preservation Charms that made it so durable. A real rose would have fallen to pieces from all of Harry's handling.

Since he was safe from elimination, Harry's interest in the rose ceremony was about which of his competitors would be going home. Rainbow, Ego, Hitwizard, Bimbo, and Vulture-eyes were all left, and it was hard for Harry to decide whom he liked least.

He stripped out of his clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. He had a few hours to kill and a long soak would allow for thought, relaxation, and wanking. All would be needed before he could spend a cocktail party with Draco, in his fitted dress robes, and a pack of vicious wolves.

A shout from the hall called forth his Auror instincts. When he recognised Draco's voice, he grabbed his wand and threw open the door. Draco stood in the hall glaring inside the room next to Harry's: Bimbo's room. One of the show's cameras floated at his side. Harry walked forward until he could see inside the room. There, in a mess of sheets, Bimbo and Hitwizard lay naked and panting. Their skin was pink and shone with sweat.

"Shut the fucking door!" Hitwizard swore, glancing from the camera to Harry and then glaring at Draco.

"No, I don't think I will. I think you'll find that the contract only guarantees your privacy whilst you are alone," Draco drawled in a way that would convince someone who didn't know him well that he was calm. "And that hardly applies in this case." He shot a meaningful look at Bimbo before turning back to Hitwizard.

"You're a sick fuck, you know that? Do you get off on watching because you can't get any? You still pining away for the loser in Azkaban?"

Draco stiffened, and Harry saw the briefest glimpse of rage before Draco composed himself into perfect, haughty superiority. "I am sure I do not know to what you refer." Harry would have found the pretentiousness amusing if he weren't certain Draco was hurting underneath.

"Fine!" Hitwizard yelled. "You know what? I don't need this stupid competition, and I certainly don't need you!" He pulled the sheet around his waist and stood up, leaving Bimbo to scramble for a pillow to shield himself. "The best thing about you is your arse, Malfoy. And we can't even touch that thanks to your bitchy friend and her contracts." He pushed past Draco and walked across the hall to his own room.

"You have ten minutes to get dressed and remove yourself from my house," Draco said to his back. Turning to Bimbo, he said, "You, too. Remove yourself from my great grandmother's bed, gather your things, and go. Don't bother trying to Scourgify your mess." He wrinkled his nose delicately. "I don't trust your incompetence not to damage the varnish."

"But, Draco—"

Draco flicked his wand and the door slammed shut. With another flick, the camera floated away.

Harry tried to place a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away. When Draco finally looked at him, Harry could see the humiliation in his eyes. Harry doubted Draco cared much for either man, but they had still, in essence, both publicly cheated on him. Draco's eyes flicked to the top of Harry's towel and back up to his face. Harry was pretty sure he saw a blush start on Draco's cheeks before Draco turned and strode down the hall.

"Good riddance." Snape was in the frame behind him, sneering in a way Harry hadn't seen since Neville had completed his O.W.L. and dropped Potions. Harry pointed at Snape and then at the closed door to Bimbo's room. Snape shuddered. "Yes. I wish I could Obliviate myself, but at least I reached Draco with enough time for him to see for himself." Harry smiled.

"It wasn't for you," Snape snapped at him. "Nitwit." With that, Snape turned and walked out of the frame.

Harry returned to his room for an extra long soak in his bath. He wasn't the least bit surprised when a pink note from Pansy flew in a while later to announce that the night's rose ceremony would be cancelled. Instead, he relaxed deeper into the tub and thought about how sexy Draco had looked in his cold fury.

~*~*~

The next stage of the competition was supposed to be for Draco to spend a day with each contestant and the contestant's family. But after Draco caught two of his supposed-suitors fucking each other, he'd put it off. Instead, he spent a quiet afternoon with each of the four remaining constants, having lunch and relaxing in the contestant's own home.

Harry had woken up early and gone home to Grimmauld Place to roast chicken for their lunch. And to do some last-minute cleaning. He'd left the house fairly tidy, but it was probably not to Draco's standards. That, and there was over three weeks worth of dust to remove.

Draco arrived looking nervous and clutching a parcel. Harry pointed to it and saw Draco's cheeks turn pink. "I thought this might help us talk," he said softly and handed Harry the package. Harry unwrapped it and found what looked like a Muggle chalkboard the size of his hand. "If you point your wand at it, your thoughts will appear. Try it."

Harry pointed his wand at it and watched as, I hope this works, appeared in neat letters. He looked up smiling and saw Draco's own grin. Harry pointed his wand at the board again, and, Where did you find it? appeared. Draco blushed more deeply, and Harry was distracted by thoughts of how Draco would look in the throes of passion.

"I made it." Harry felt his eyes widen. "After that first night. I wanted to be able to talk to you." He shrugged as if it were nothing. "It took me several weeks to get the charms right." Harry didn't doubt him. It was very complex magic, and he was sure even Professor Flitwick would have struggled with the charms.

He pointed his wand.

Thank you.

He wished those two words were enough.

Draco smiled warmly. "You're welcome."

Harry marvelled at how easy it was to flick his wand and have his words be right in front of Draco. With the notebook, he had to write slowly so his words would be legible and then wait for Draco to read it when he was done. And they had to keep passing the notebook back and forth. The tablet would definitely make communication faster and easier.

They sat down to eat, and Harry was rewarded with Draco's enthusiastic response to his cooking.

"Merlin! You're like a house-elf!"

Harry pointed his wand and knew, I'm cuter than a house-elf, would appear on the tablet in front of Draco. Draco chuckled.

"Yes, you definitely are."

After lunch, they'd played Exploding Snap with the Whipped on in the background. They knew the first of episode of their show had been aired, but Pansy had charmed Harry's Whipped not to play Unwed Wizard. Harry didn't really want to watch twenty-four other men chat up Draco anyway.

They ended up watching a different dating show, in which a single witch's friends dated the various wizard contestants for her.

"They all seem like arseholes, don't they?" Draco said, sounding more than a little tired.

Harry pointed his wand at the tablet as he thought, We're not all arseholes.

"I'm sorry. I just . . ." It seemed Draco couldn't find words.

Harry pointed his wand again and thought, I have fame and gold of my own. I don't care about bloodlines, and I'm not looking for cheap thrills. He glanced at the floating camera and wondered if it would broadcast what he wrote. Then he added, I'm here for you. Just Draco.

Draco looked up from the tablet and smiled at him. He looked tired and a little tearful, but the smile looked genuine. "Thank you."

~*~*~

~*~*~

Draco came out of the Manor looking very pale on the day they were going to the Burrow. Harry put a hand on his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. Draco smiled back, but it was weak and a bit twitchy.

Draco had dressed in simple khakis and a rugby shirt, and Harry was pleased he'd taken his advice to dress down. Harry, in a black t-shirt and jeans, still looked scruffy compared to Draco's fitted, wrinkle-free attire. But at least Draco wouldn't look too stuffy for lunch and Quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry handed Draco a broom and they took off into the air. A floating camera easily kept pace with them. The weather was sunny and mild, making for excellent flying, and Harry congratulated himself on his choice of transport when Draco visibly relaxed atop his broom. When they reached the Burrow, he saw Molly, Arthur, Bill, Ron, and Hermione were waiting outside.

"Fleur's inside with the kids," Bill said as he gave Harry a hug. Everyone shook Draco's hand, which Harry took as a good start. They were halfway to the house when the two youngest of those children, Louis and Dominique, came running out of the house and hugged Harry around his legs.

"Up! Up! Up!" Louis demanded. Harry obeyed and lifted the little boy into his arms. Dominique pulled back from Harry's legs and looked at Draco for a moment before turning back to Harry.

"Is he the man you like, Harry?" Draco turned a bit pink, but Harry just smiled and nodded. Dominique studied Draco with a cocked head. "He looks okay. Can he play Quidditch?" Harry nodded again. "Great!" She smiled, and her little brother nodded. With that, Louis struggled until Harry put him down and he could return to his sister's side. A moment later, the children had run back into the house.

Harry looked at Draco, pointed to where Louis and Dominique had disappeared, raised an eyebrow, and smiled. Draco laughed his free, happy laugh. "Yes, all right. I've won over two Weasleys. Can I leave now?" Harry elbowed him playfully, and then took his hand and led him inside.

~*~*~

Lunch had been delicious, and the focus on eating had made up for the slightly awkward conversation. The Weasleys and Draco had taken turns asking each other questions, but avoiding any sensitive subjects. Once the conversation had turned to food, however, it became more boisterous and relaxed. Soon Fleur and Draco were raving about their favourite restaurant in Diagon Alley and trashing the supposed-French restaurant in the wizarding district of Bath.

After lunch, Ron had asked Draco to join him, and they'd both disappeared up the stairs. Draco had looked very nervous as he'd left, and Harry had tried to look encouraging despite his own nerves.

He'd been pacing the living room since they'd left, waiting for them to return.

Draco walked back into the room first, looking a little dazed. Before Harry could reach him, Molly grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. Ron came in looking rather calm and Harry raised a questioning brow.

"Let's go outside and I'll fill you in." Ron led them to some wooden chairs in the grass and they sat down together. Harry pointed back to the house and imitated Draco's expression. Ron laughed out loud. "Yeah, I think he thought I was going to punch him or tell him to stay away from you." He smiled tauntingly and Harry made an impatient gesture with his hand. Ron laughed again and then settled into a serious face. "I told him he'd be a fool not to pick you." Harry smiled at his loyal friend.

"He said I shouldn't worry about your hurt pride, but I told him it was your heart I was worried about. He looked surprised at that. I told him you were only doing this stupid competition because he was. He tried to scoff at that, but I pointed out that in the eight years since the Whipped came around, you'd never once done a show. I asked him if that looked like you wanted attention, and he had the good sense to look a bit sheepish." Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's glee at getting one up on Draco.

Then he had a thought and pulled out the tablet Draco had given him.

Are you okay with me dating—maybe marrying—Draco?

"It's been ten years since the git's done anything to me." Even the insult was uttered without venom. "I watched him after the war, and all he did was charity work. He seemed to actually enjoy some of it."

Ron's face darkened. "And I saw what Hedger did to him. Malfoy's good with a healing spell, but even the best Healer can't cure a bruise completely without time. That first time we brought him in for questioning, half his face was tinted yellow from the remnants of old bruises." Ron shook his head in disgust. "I don't know what the fuck convinced him to stay with that monster, but even he didn't deserve to be treated that way."

They sat in silence for a while before Ron muttered, "I wonder if Hedger deliberately chose a Healer-in-training so he could patch himself up afterwards." Ron met Harry's eyes and saw the confusion on his face. "Didn't you know?" Ron's face was scrunched up in thought.

"Maybe it was after you went on disability leave. Anyway, Malfoy was most of the way through training to be a Healer and then, apparently, just dropped out. Hermione thinks it was Hedger. She says abusive types often isolate their victims from the rest of their lives so that they're more dependent on the abuser." The last sounded like he was quoting Hermione verbatim.

Harry sat back in his chair and stared across the grass. Draco had never mentioned that he wanted to be a Healer. Had Hedger convinced him he wasn't good enough or that no one would hire him because of his past?

The door to the house opened, and Bill stuck his head out. "Better come save your boyfriend. Mum's fussing over how thin he is, and I think she's on the verge of making him soup on top of all the lunch she'd crammed into him." Laughing, Harry returned to the house to rescue Draco.

~*~*~

Harry sat in the common room of their luxurious four-bedroom hotel suite in Parma. They were staying there for a few days, as each of the remaining three contestants toured a nearby part of Italy with Draco. Vulture-eyes had had the first date and taken Draco sailing on Lake Como.

Rainbow had pouted when they'd learned that the second half of that date had been in Milan. Apparently, according to Rainbow, the fashion capital of Italy was wasted on Vulture-eyes. Well, Rainbow had called him Chris, but Harry's mind automatically translated it. Harry didn't think Rainbow would be too sad tomorrow when he spent the day in Venice.

But what Harry was really focused on was his own date. He had woken at dawn with anticipation of taking Draco to Pisa and Florence for the day. He couldn't wait for Draco to come out from his room and join him.

Finally, the door opened, and Draco emerged in linen slacks and a crisp, white, button-down shirt. He smiled sleepily at Harry. "Morning." Harry was sure his answering smile was ridiculous, but he was just so happy to see Draco and to still be in the running.

He'd been so nervous at the last rose ceremony, especially when the first name called was Rainbow's. But then Draco had called his name and he'd started breathing again. It was Ego who ended up being sent home. Obviously being from a pure-blood family didn't mean much to Draco anymore.

Harry and Draco had lattes and toast at the hotel and then Apparated to Pisa. They arrived early enough that the Muggles hadn't been let in yet—the gates opened at 8:30—so they had the Tower of Pisa to themselves. Draco was quite knowledgeable and explained the history of the Tower.

"Muggles spent a decade trying to fix it," Draco explained, "but the leaning is caused by a curse. A rival architect wanted it to keep tilting until it collapsed. It's thought he wanted the collapse to only take a few years, but he didn't make the curse strong enough. In any event, Muggle intervention was never going to stop the tilting. This past May, the Italian Minister for Magic finally intervened and sent some Curse-Breakers to remove the curse. They left the tower tilted, but without the curse, it's finally stable."

~*~*~~*~*~

"Botticelli was a wizard, you know."

They were walking through the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, and Draco was leading their tour of Renaissance art. He led Harry to the large painting of spring on the wall. "It's pretty obvious, really. Venus, the Graces." He shook his head. "It's just a simple Stasis Charm that prevents the painting from moving."

A younger Draco would have made a comment about how stupid Muggles were to not know that, but this Draco just smiled and looked at the painting with appreciation. Harry took his hand and squeezed it.

For lunch, they found a café near the Palazzo Vecchio where they sat outside in the piazza. Harry recognised the statue in front of the palace and pointed it out to Draco. Surely Michaelangelo's famous statue David wasn't just sitting outside among the tourists?

"It's a replica," Draco assured him. "The original used to be there, but when the protective spells wore off, it was moved to the Accademia Gallery. The Muggles were only going to believe God was protecting it from rain and wind for so long." He gave a wry smile and took another sip of his soup.

Harry wanted to pull him across the table and kiss him. Instead, he took a sip of his own soup and stared over the crowd at the Fountain of Neptune.

The afternoon found them strolling around the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. They couldn't go into the cathedral with their gelato, so they were appreciating the massive bell tower and dome from the outside.

Harry looked over at Draco, strawberry gelato dripping onto his long fingers, and wondered if he'd ever had a better day. He leant forward and stole a quick, strawberry-sweet kiss. Before Draco could object to public kissing in the conservative country, Harry had moved through the crowd towards the cathedral's famous baptistery.

~*~*~~*~*~

Vulture-eyes spent the whole next morning griping about Rainbow and how he should have been sent packing with Ego.

"He's ridiculous. He's a joke! He dresses and talks like a thirteen year old Muggle girl, and he gets a whole day with Draco in Venice. He's never going to win. He's wasting everyone's time."

By noon, Harry had reached the end of his patience and Apparated back to Florence. He found his way to the marzipan shop he'd noticed the day before and bought a basket of the treats shaped like tiny apples and pears. He put a Stasis Charm on it and began retracing his steps from the day before. Every sight, smell, and sound brought back memories of Draco.

He wondered what Draco was doing at that moment and felt a familiar rush of jealousy as he remembered he was with Rainbow. At least Rainbow was better than Vulture-eyes. Vulture-eyes reminded him too much of Hedger: controlling, obsessive, and completely self-absorbed.

Rainbow, for all that he was unsuited to Draco, at least wasn't likely to hurt Draco. At least not intentionally. It actually comforted Harry that Draco had kept Rainbow so long; maybe Draco really wanted a lover who was kind and liked him for who he was.

~*~*~~*~*~

The next day, they Portkeyed to the Italian Riviera for a relaxing day on the beach. Or it would have been relaxing, if Harry could forget that they were mere hours from another rose ceremony. One of the three of them was going home that night.

He was trying to enjoy himself as he sat out under the hot Italian sun. Vulture-eyes had gone to find drinks, and Rainbow had fallen asleep with loud music blaring from his Muggle earplugs, so it was almost like Draco and Harry were alone. Harry watched Draco push his fringe back from his face as he turned a page of the novel he was devouring. Harry had tried reading, but his mind kept coming back to Draco and the elimination ceremony that night.

He took some comfort remembering Draco's excitement over the basket of tiny fruit-shaped marzipan. Sugar was definitely a good way to Draco's heart. So were the little favours Harry managed so far that day: setting out Draco's towel for him, casting a discrete Sunscreen Charm, and catching Draco's sunglasses before they fell in the sand and got scratched. Harry hoped those little gestures would make up for his lack of conversation.

He hoped Vulture-eyes came back with drinks soon. Strong ones.

~*~*~~*~*~

Rainbow was called first again, and he smiled when his rosebud opened. Harry could feel the sweat on his brow and his palms as Draco stared at the floor in front of him. Vulture-eyes was shifting next to Harry, clearly as uncomfortable as Harry was.

Draco looked up and straight at Vulture-eyes. Harry felt his stomach clench. No, no, no, no, no.

"Harry."

Harry blinked and realised Draco was now looking straight at him. He glanced down in disbelief and saw that the tiny bud on his lapel had burst open. Finally recovering from his shock, he looked up and let his face crack into a huge grin. He'd made it to the final round. He was going to win this!

"You've got to be kidding me!" came the angry voice from beside him. He turned and saw Vulture-eyes turning red in the face. "I can't believe you'd pick a stupid Nancy boy and a broken, washed-up 'hero' over me. I thought we had something special!" Harry glanced at Draco and saw he looked a bit paler than usual. He instinctively stepped in front of Draco, shielding him from Vulture-eyes.

"It's okay, Harry." Draco put a hand on his shoulder, and Harry stepped aside. "You and Nick,"—Rainbow, Harry's mind supplied—"go have some champagne, I'll join you in a few minutes." One of the assistants stepped forward and ushered Rainbow and Harry out of the room.

They stood in awkward silence in an empty drawing room, occasionally sipping from their glasses of champagne.

"So," Rainbow started, "you and me, huh?" Harry forced a smile and nodded.

~*~*~~*~*~

Draco had looked shaken when he'd finally returned. He had some champagne with them and then spent a little time alone with each. Harry was surprised when Draco asked him about his curse as soon as they were alone together.

"The papers just said you were cursed on duty. I didn't really follow up on it, as I . . . was a bit distracted at the time."

Harry pulled out the tablet Draco had given him.

We were raiding the place where Hedger kept children until he found buyers.

He risked a glance at Draco and saw purest disgust on his face. And a hint of something like guilt.

Not your fault. You didn't know.

Draco nodded absently, as if not convinced.

Someone—one of the slavers, we think—hit me with the curse. Later we learned Hedger's men used the curse on all of the children to make it harder for them to fight back or escape. They were all too young to have studied nonverbal spells.

Draco looked completely ashen. "The . . . children? You mean there are a bunch of children walking around with your same curse?" Harry nodded. "I never knew." Draco sounded very near tears, and Harry couldn't resist placing a hand on his knee. "And St. Mungo's could do nothing?"

They'd never seen a spell like it. It didn't respond to any of the usual counter-spells. They brought in a few experts but nothing worked. Hedger and his men probably all know the counter-spell, but they wouldn't talk and we couldn't get approval to use Veritaserum.

After a huge abuse scandal the year after the war, the Ministry had outlawed the use of Veritaserum in any case where its use would not directly save a life. Even the famous Harry Potter couldn't get an exception.

Draco looked completely shaken, so Harry used the tablet to ask about his time in Italy. Draco let him change the topic, even if he looked distracted and gave only half-hearted answers.

~*~*~~*~*~

The last stage of the competition was to meet Draco's family. Since Lucius was still in Azkaban, Harry assumed it would just be Narcissa. Despite all of their time spent at the Manor, he hadn't seen her once during the competition. Rainbow'd had his turn the day before, but Harry hadn't seen him since then.

"This is your last chance, Potter." Harry glanced over at Snape and wondered if he'd missed the portrait or not during his time in Italy. He gave a little smile, accepting that he had. A little.

"Much as it pains me to admit it, you would make Draco happy. So you'd best not fuck this up." He glared at Harry, but it didn't have the heat Harry'd seen from the man in his lifetime. "You need to show Draco how you really feel."

Harry gestured at his throat and threw his hands up in frustration. Snape simply made a sound of disgust. "Speaking is only one way to communicate! You must use something stronger! Show him how much you trust him!" Harry looked at the frame blankly. Snape sighed in obvious frustration. "As always, I have to spell it out for you. Let him use Legilimency on you."

Of course! Harry was pants at Occlumency, so it wouldn't take much for Draco to raid his mind. And there was no greater act of trust than letting someone into your thoughts and memories.

A knock sounded on the door. Harry went to answer it, and found a very serious looking Draco.

"May I come in?"

No time like the present, Harry thought. He grabbed his tablet, thought I want you to use Legilimency on me, and held it up for Draco to read. Draco's eyes and mouth widened comically.

"You, what? Are you sure?" Harry nodded firmly. "Why?" Harry shook the question off. He sat on the edge of the bed and gestured at Draco's wand. Draco stepped forward to stand in front of him. "You're sure." It sounded more like a statement that time, albeit an uncertain one. Harry relaxed his mind and looked up into Draco's eyes. Then he nodded.

He barely heard Draco's whispered incantation before he was back in his kitchen with Pansy and she was asking him to do the show, a moment later he was in the Manor's potions lab following Snape's instructions. Then he was back in his guest-room with Draco.

"Snape helped you?" Harry nodded, and Draco laughed. "I was so angry you had brewed a perfect potion without help, and you were relying on Snape just like sixth-year." Harry blinked at him, not sure if he was more surprised that Draco knew about the Half-Blood Prince's book or that he was still competitive over something like brewing.

"Yes, I'm still a bit competitive," Draco said lightly. "It's nice to beat the Golden Boy now and then." He smirked, but it was a nicer version of the one he'd used in school. "And Snape told me all about his old textbook." Harry rolled his eyes but smiled.

Draco grew serious again. "You didn't want to do the show. Not until Pansy told you I was doing it." Harry looked him straight in the eye and nodded. "It looked like she knew you'd agree once she said that." Harry nodded again. Then he pointed at Draco's wand and his head.

"Again?" Draco sounded surprised. Harry looked deep into his eyes and nodded.

This time Harry was back in Florence with Draco and his strawberry gelato. And then they were walking through shops in Hogsmeade. Then Draco was talking with Fleur at the Burrow. Then they were playing Exploding Snap in Harry's drawing room.

The connection broke and Harry steadied himself on the bed. Draco looked weakened by the spell, so Harry held a hand out to him. He led Draco to sit next to him and angled his body to face him.

"Why those moments?" Draco's voice was hushed. Harry picked up Draco's hand and kissed it. Draco turned to him with his question echoed in his eyes, and Harry used his free hand to cup the side of his face. Harry searched his features for any sign of discomfort and asked with his eyes if this, their touching, was all right. Draco leant into the hand cupping his cheek. Harry took the invitation, leant forward, and kissed Draco on the lips.

It wasn't quick or chaste as the other kisses had been. It was slow and tender. He pressed their lips together and then opened his mouth. Draco responded in kind and Harry pressed his tongue forward into the sweet, wet heat of Draco's mouth. Harry's tongue found Draco's tongue and teeth, exploring each texture and taste.

Harry felt Draco's hands pulling at his hair, and it was only then that he realised his own hands were on Draco's hips. Draco's shirt was untucked, so Harry slid his hands underneath and up Draco's smooth back. He could feel corded muscle and solid shoulder blades under the soft, smooth skin. It was heaven being pressed against Draco, tasting his mouth, hearing his heavy breath, feeling the movement of his muscles shifting as he pulled Harry closer.

When Draco finally pulled away, Harry was completely dishevelled. More so than usual.

"Wait. Stop." Draco was panting between words. "I came here because I found something." Harry tried to focus, but it was difficult with Draco so close and warm and flushed. "Here." Draco shoved a leather book into his hands. "It was his." Hedger. Draco didn't even have to say it—the disgust in his tone said it all.

"I looked through what was left of his stuff. This is the one place he talks about spells. I marked it with the ribbon. You should take it to St. Mungo's. One of their specialists might be able to figure it out." Harry stared at the book in his hand, not sure what to make of the fact that Draco still had Hedger's belongings.

"I packed up the rest and sent it to the Aurors. I don't want it anymore." Draco looked determined in a way Harry hadn't seen since before Hedger. Probably even before the war. He hugged him tightly, not with lust, but with pride. Draco put his hand on Harry's arm and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. "I think I'm over it now," he whispered.

~*~*~~*~*~

Draco had insisted on putting off their day with Narcissa so that Harry could bring the book to St. Mungo's. Ron and Hermione had joined him as Harry met with St. Mungo's top Spell Damage specialist and then waited on an examining table. Finally the specialist returned with a determined glint in her eye. She told Harry to relax and cast a spell on his throat. Ron asked if it had worked and they all turned to look at him.

"Uh," was all Harry managed, but it was more than he'd said in two years. Ron cheered as Hermione threw her arms around Harry. It sounded like she was crying.

The specialist told them it would take a few months for Harry's vocal cords to fully recover from the curse itself and two years of atrophy. She then left to send owls to the families of the children Hedger had kidnapped and cursed.

Harry hugged his friends, but refused their advice to stay the night at St. Mungo's. Draco had faced his past to find the journal that had led to Harry's cure. He wanted to get back to him as soon as possible and let him know it had worked.

~*~*~~*~*~

He found Pansy almost immediately and pushed the tablet into her face.

Where's Draco?

"Upstairs in his room. Would you like me to get him?" He nodded, and she sent an assistant scurrying up the stairs. "What happened?"

"Uh," Harry uttered.

Pansy squealed and hugged him round the neck. "I assume you'll get more speech back in time?" Harry nodded. "So you can go back to being an Auror!" She tried for a haughty look, but her smile kept breaking through. "Well, good. Show ratings and all that." Harry shoved her playfully.

"Don't manhandle my best friend, Potter."

"Hah." It wasn't 'Harry,' but it still felt huge to him. It must have been to Draco too, as he had frozen on the steps.

"It worked," he whispered. "It worked?" Harry nodded.

"He claims it'll improve," Pansy threw in. "He won't sound like a Neanderthal forever. Or at least less like one."

Harry probably would have shoved her, but he suddenly had arms full of happy Draco, and that was far more important. Harry smiled at him, overcome by the brilliant grin that lit up Draco's face and was all for him! He stared at the beaming grey eyes, glowing skin, and the lips pulled taught around an enormous smile. It was too much.

Just when he thought his chest would burst, the image was gone and his vision was full of white-gold hair. His brief confusion disappeared when he felt Draco's lips press insistently against his own. Unable to resist, Harry opened his mouth to Draco's questing tongue. He groaned as the thrusting of that hot muscle gave him a glimpse of other pleasures they could bring to each other's body.

But the kiss was so much more than carnal desire. It felt like a promise. He fisted his hands into the back of Draco's shirt to keep him close, and Draco answered by tightening his own arms around Harry. He had Draco, there in his arms, hugging and kissing him like they'd been lovers for years.

Draco suddenly froze and pulled away slightly. "The children, too?" Harry nodded again before impatiently covering Draco's mouth with his own. Draco moaned in reply and melted into him again.

"All right, lovebirds," Pansy interrupted. They ignored her, but she pried them apart. "We're still in the middle of a competition!" She glared at them each in turn. "You." She pointed at Harry. "Off to your room. I'll bet you're supposed to be resting." Harry smiled sheepishly, stole one more kiss from Draco, and scurried off before Pansy started issuing orders to Draco.

~*~*~~*~*~

Meeting Narcissa was anticlimactic.

"You testified at Draco's hearing after the war, and two years ago you helped put that bastard in Azkaban. I don't need Pansy's champagne brunch to know I trust you to put Draco's best interests first." Narcissa sat primly at their table in her rose garden. Her light hair was wrapped up in a neat bun on her head, and she wore pale blue robes the colour of her eyes. Everything about her appearance was slight and fair and delicate, but Harry knew that underneath it all was a woman of iron.

Harry handed her his tablet as he considered his reply. He thought about making some declaration of his intent, but Narcissa didn't seem to want words when she already had actions. Instead he thought about Pansy and the show.

She does serve a lot of champagne.

Narcissa laughed a light, dignified laugh. Then she turned to him with a smile. "I could enjoy having you around, Mr. Potter."

"Hahr," he corrected.

She smiled again. "Harry." She gestured at the nearest rose bush. "Why don't you pick a rose for yourself?" Harry wasn't sure what to make of the comment. Surely he couldn't just give himself a bloom and win the competition. He walked to the bush and found a perfect red rosebud. It was small and round and full of potential. He used his wand to cut it from its branch and brought it back to the table.

Narcissa looked at it and smiled. "Modesty is an admirable trait." He blinked at her. Was this a test? "You are confident enough to compete for my son's affections, yet you are not presumptuous that you have won it." She scrutinised him with her clever blue eyes. "Yes, Harry. I think I will enjoy having you around." She flicked her wand and the tiny bud sprung open in Harry's hand.

He stared at it in shock for several moments before looking up at Narcissa. "Draco has agreed to this show and its rules, but he also values our family's traditions. It is customary in old wizarding families for a suitor to seek a blessing from his beloved's parents before proposing marriage." She nodded at the rose. "You have my blessing."

She looked back up at him and her eyes showed the cold fire of the woman who lied to Voldemort for her son's sake. "Do not disappoint me." He met her gaze before closing his eyes and nodding solemnly.

"Good." Her voice was light and kind once more. "Another biscuit?" Harry opened his eyes to Narcissa's warm smile and a plate of lemon biscuits.

~*~*~~*~*~

Harry blinked his eyes open and took in the endless whiteness. He flailed his arm and the duvet fell away from his face. Propping himself up on his elbows, he could see the light-blue ocean through the large windows of their corner room. He glance down at the bed next to him and felt his heart tighten at the sight of Draco's mussed-up hair.

"Morn." After a few weeks, Harry's voice was still soft and breathy, but he could speak in single syllables. He couldn't wait for the day when he'd properly be able to say, 'Draco'.

"Morn, yourself," came the petulant reply. "Sleepy." During those weeks, he'd also learned that Draco was not a morning person—at least not when he'd been kept up half the night by his insatiable fiancé.

Harry figured it was a good thing they still had two more weeks of forced vacation for shagging and sleeping before the final episode of Unwed Wizard: Capture the Dragon would air. Draco had been unimpressed with Pansy's choice of subtitle and sent a letter telling her so. She sent his owl back with a gift basket filled with champagne, chocolates, and lube. The note read, "That title is the least of what you owe me. I suggest you pick up some expensive souvenirs. Enjoy your vacation, darlings!"

Harry didn't care what the show was called. He was just glad Draco had shown no interest in watching it. He was more than a little mortified to think that in two weeks the wizarding world would watch as he'd got down on one knee by the Hogwarts lake and held out a small velvet box in proposal. It would be far more humiliating to have to watch it himself. At least he'd been spared having to articulate words with his mouth dry and his heart hammering in his throat. He had put his trust in the intricately carved platinum ring and his own hopeful eyes to ask the question. It was Draco who had stumbled over his words before finally managing a 'yes'.

He kissed the bit of Draco's bare shoulder that was sticking out from under their white, cloud-like duvet.

"What. Do. To. Day?" They had returned to Italy for their hideaway, this time venturing further south to a luxury hotel in Ravello. Like other towns nestled into the craggy Amalfi Coast, Ravello offered them the dramatic coastal views afforded by their height on the cliffs. But Ravello also offered its famous annual music festival and lush, expansive gardens. The concerts and gardens were both refined enough for Draco and simple enough for Harry.

Some days they would Apparate to other parts of Italy to see famous sights. Some days—including Harry's birthday a week ago—they strolled around Ravello, touring gardens, drinking wine, and staring off at the sea far below them. And some days they simply didn't bother to leave the bed in their hotel room. Harry wondered which it would be today. He really didn't care, so long as he had Draco.

"Don't care, Harry. You choose." Harry had learned that him choosing meant he was to give suggestions that Draco would approve or veto.

"Rome?"

"Too tired."

"Pi-sa?"

"Been there, done that."

"Here?"

"Here what? Here the village or here the bed?" Harry watched as Draco pulled his head away from the pillow and looked up at him with sleepy grey eyes. Harry kissed him on the lips and pushed him back against the bed. Draco spread out on his back and Harry settled between his legs. He knew Draco always woke up hard and a quick thrust of his hips confirmed it. He leant forward to suck on Draco's neck as he pressed his hips forward again. Draco arched up to meet him, and soon they were moving against each other, gasping into each other's mouth between kisses.

Harry was happy to prolong their teasing. He had built up plenty of stamina over the past weeks and knew he wouldn't come apart until he was buried deep inside the man he finally had as his own.

"Bed."

"Shag and then room service?"

Harry smiled. It sounded like an excellent plan to him. He pressed his hips forward and enjoyed the little moan Draco gave him. He circled his hips and received a breathier one. They'd been thorough in their discovery of each other's bodies. They'd had quick fucks and they'd slowly made love. The night before, they'd made a marathon of tender kisses, sensuous massages, and slow, gentle sex.

Rocking against Draco's morning erection, Harry felt an agitated impatience that had been missing the night before. He didn't want light teasing touches; he wanted to make Draco fall apart in his arms. Now.

He covered Draco's mouth with his own, thrusting his tongue deep inside, and pressed his hips forward until he could feel every inch of Draco's arousal. One hand was tangled in Draco's hair, but the other ran down his chest and side before grabbing a perfectly rounded cheek of flesh. Harry pulled away from Draco's mouth to place wet, open kisses down Draco's throat.

He lapped at Draco's nipples, adding occasional nips with his teeth so Draco would thrash and cry out. Finally he couldn't take anymore teasing, and he worked down the bed until Draco's cock was in his face. It was long and straight and deliciously pink. Harry ran his tongue up the underside of it and then swallowed the head. Plunging down on Draco, he relaxed his throat so he could take as much as possible. He moaned and swallowed the head, smiling as Draco writhed and groaned.

Draco was a responsive lover—vocal and sensitive. Just the sight or sound of his pleasure made Harry painfully hard. Harry's hands each grabbed a round globe of Draco's arse. Harry loved that arse for the way it looked naked, the way it filled trousers, and for the way it tauntingly hid Draco's perfect, pink hole.

Harry pulled the globes apart and slid a forefinger inside of Draco.

"Oh! Fuck!" Harry groaned into Draco's thigh. Draco was still prepared from the night before. His hole was still relaxed and slick and ready for Harry's cock.

Harry sat back on his feet and hooked his arms under Draco's knees. He wouldn't need a pillow to keep Draco in place; they were both too wound up to last long. Coming up onto his knees, Harry lined himself up and pushed forward into Draco's eager body. Oh, fuck, but he was hot and tight. Always. No matter how much they fucked, Harry always felt like he'd fall apart in that first instant.

"Move!" Draco thrust impatiently, and Harry realised he'd simply fallen limp over Draco as he revelled in the blissful sensations. He pulled out almost all of the way and gave Draco a challenging glare. Then he snapped his hips forward as hard as he could and relished Draco's groan of pleasure.

The sound alone threatened to undo him, but he would not fall apart alone. He thrust his hips in long, hard strokes, determined to make Draco come first. Draco seemed to support the plan and began franticly stroking himself in time with Harry's grunts and thrusts.

"Oh. Fuck. Har— Oh. Har-ry. Fuck!" And then Draco was reduced to moans and grunts before his body tightened and he was coming on his stomach. The sight of Draco shivering with the intensity of the pleasure he'd given him helped Harry reached the end, and he came with three long thrusts in Draco's body.

"Oh fuck, Harry," Draco gasped as Harry collapsed on top of him. They laid still: hot, sticky and panting.

Harry carefully slipped out of the man he loved—the man he would soon marry—and fell onto the bed next to him.

"Harry?" Draco's voice was breathy and low.

"Mmm"

"I think we should change our plans." Harry's head shot up with fear. Change plans? He thought about their plans to travel, to marry, for Draco to complete his Healer training.

"Wha?"

Draco yawned leisurely next to him, stretching his long, lean limbs. "Yeah. How about shag, shower, room service?" Harry narrowly avoided the urge to smack Draco with a pillow. He couldn't resist placing a hard nip on his shoulder, which earned an undignified squeal and a declaration of 'brute!' from Draco.

Then he thought about Draco dripping wet and smelling strongly of his citrus shampoo. He decided he liked the new plan. He really didn't care, so long as Draco was with him.

~The End~