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Draco’s eyes fluttered as he lay back against luxurious sheets, taking deep breaths while he recovered from his mind-blowing orgasm.

Next to him, Harry trailed a finger down Draco’s flank with a satisfied smile. “I told you we’d have time for a second round.”

Draco let out a groan. As if anyone could resist Harry, with his sparkling green eyes and sexy smirk as he pulled them in for a kiss.

“Fine, fine, you’re right again,” Draco conceded, getting up and pushing Harry’s hand away. “But I’ve really got to go now; I have to meet Pansy early tomorrow morning and she does not take tardiness well, let me tell you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And yet you risked that for me?”

“For sex, you mean?” Draco asked as he swung his legs over the edge of Harry’s bed. Draco swiped his boxers from where they were pooled on the floor as Harry let out a laugh behind him.

“For excellent sex, thank you very much,” Harry said suggestively.

“You’re welcome, Potter,” Draco teased as he slipped his boxers on. “Ouch!” Draco cried as Harry hit him with one of his pillows.

He threw Harry a look as he stood and hurried over to retrieve his shirt from where it was slung over Harry’s desk. 

“So, how does Friday at nine sound?” Draco heard Harry ask.

“Hmmm?” Draco asked, rebuttoning his shirt. Harry was still lounging on the bed, his hair darkly tousled and a flush on his cheeks.

It made Draco want to climb back on the bed and kiss him. But he stopped himself.

Harry grinned at him. “For the art exhibition,” he said, tilting his head. “Luna’s showcasing her ‘Ethereal Beings’ collection that night. You’re going too, right? We could stay together… ”

“Yes, that’s fine, I suppose,” Draco said, eyeing his emerald tie lying on the desk and wondering how he could put it on without having the rumpled fabric showing – from where Harry had yanked him in for a desperate kiss as they fell all over each other.

“Good. I need you there to scare everyone off,” Harry declared, lying back against the pillows. The sheet still covered his hips, but Draco could see a tempting trail of dark hair leading under the silky white fabric.

Draco hurriedly lifted his collar and slipped his rumpled tie underneath – propriety be damned. “Oh, right – Merlin forbid if the great Harry Potter was at the mercy of his adoring public.”

Harry snorted. “I’m sick of witches looking at me with such power-hungry looks, plotting to snare me. And I can put up with your company for one evening.”

“Oh, you can, can you?”

“Well, I put up with you to get a good shag, don’t I?”

Draco rolled his eyes as Harry grinned.

“You’re despicable,” Draco declared.

“And you can’t resist me,” Harry said, fluttering his eyelashes.

Draco threw Harry’s rolled-up trousers at him. Harry laughingly ducked, then turned over to snuggle into his pillow. Damn those Auror reflexes. Draco really should have remembered them from their Auror training. He scowled as he pulled up his own trousers, glaring at his… well, infuriating lover.

Not that they were boyfriends. They’d kept that quite clear, thank you very much.

Draco cast one final look at Harry still curled up in bed. Harry’s hair was just as messy as ever, and there was a hint of his arse outlined by the draped sheet. The gorgeous sight was like a siren’s call, and Draco bit back a groan as he gazed longingly at the bed. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, regathering his senses before he strode to the door, exiting without looking back.

He paused at the threshold though, listening for a creak in the bed, or a defeated groan, anything. But the room was silent, except perhaps for a contented sigh as Harry relaxed, sleepy and happy in bed. Draco abruptly turned and walked down the corridor, stopping only at the fireplace to throw in a handful of sparkling floo powder and step into the emerald flames.

As he stumbled out of his own floo towards the Manor stairs, Draco paused, throwing a regretful look at the dwindling flames. He knew his own bed was going to be warm – with its plush mattress, a fire crackling in the hearth, and warming charms between the sheets – but he was sure that he would have been more cosy somewhere else. In a different bed, with a heartbeat thudding steadily against his chest, a set of warm arms wrapped around him, and a pair of legs tangled together with his in an inextricable but undeniable heap.

Draco had managed to stop any pesky little feelings slipping out, so Harry didn’t know how he felt – thank goodness. How he’d imagined what it would feel like to trade secrets together, whispering to each other late at night. How it would feel to drift off to sleep together in the same bed, wrapped up in each other. To introduce Harry as his boyfriend. To walk hand in hand down Diagon Alley to the inevitable hoots and calls, fingers curled together, sharing blushing smiles.

He just had to make sure he let nothing slip. It wasn’t like there could be anything else between them.

He and Harry, a couple in love? That could only ever be a dream.

When Draco woke up the next day, he buried his head back under his pillow. There was an awful screeching and he just could not deal with it. He’d just decided to call for Heberidee, his house-elf, to serve him breakfast in bed when the door banged open. The horrible noise – which he realised was an off-key rendition of ‘A Cauldron Full Of Hot, Strong Love’ – paused, only for something worse to strike his ears.

“Draco Malfoy! Get up at once!”

Draco groaned as he peeked out of one eye. His best friend Pansy Parkinson was glaring at him.

“Get out, Pansy,” Draco ordered, quickly yanking his sheet over himself.

Pansy, unfortunately, ignored him as she sauntered into the room. “Draco, you know we have to go line up for the shops. The exclusive siren-call perfume isn’t going to buy itself.”

“Then go yourself,” Draco mumbled, closing his eyes again.

But then his nice cosy sheet was ripped away, and Draco yelped, scrambling to sit up and hunch over his knees, clad in just his boxers.

“Up you get, darling,” Pansy said, smirking as Draco glared at her.

Sometimes she was a real piece of work.

“Don’t be such a blushing virgin, Draco,” Pansy called with a snicker as she made her way back to the doorway. “It isn’t very becoming of you when we both know how untrue it is.”

Then with one final smirk, Pansy left the room, her heels clicking behind her.

Draco scowled, before hurrying to dress. He heard her start singing again as she walked down the corridor and he winced, pulling on clothes as fast as he could. There would be only one way to stop the unearthly wailing, which was to get down there as quickly as possible – undoubtedly her devious plan.

Pansy did not stop singing when Draco got downstairs. And instead of letting Draco have a nice breakfast and cup of soothing tea, she decided they would leave at once, and Draco only managed to grab one blueberry muffin from the bowl on the table before Pansy was dragging him out the door. After that, it was a rush of Apparition and running down the cobblestone streets to a blush-rose patterned building called Aphrodite’s Kiss, which had an absolutely enormous line of excited young witches. Pansy towed him through the queue until she’d found a spot she was happy with, and they waited there surrounded by giggling and whispering for the doors to open. Draco thought he’d been through enough at school, but finding himself to be the only bloke waiting for a perfume release surrounded by giggling girls was another test all together. When the doors opened, Pansy dragged Draco along with her, weaving expertly through the crowd like glimmering thread through a loom. And then Pansy was grabbing elegant pink bottles off the shelf and shoving them into his hands, Draco staggering back as his elbows were piled higher and higher and Pansy’s smirk grew. They left the perfume shelf significantly depleted by the time Pansy declared them ready to go, and as they got to the checkout, Draco peering out between the numerous bottles laden in his arms, he was nearly in fear of his life at all the pointed looks he received. Draco was so relieved to have made it through the shop in one piece that when Pansy asked if he would like to go out for a celebratory ice-cream, he fell completely for her trap, unaware of the danger that was still ahead.

“So, Draco… ” Pansy trailed off while she took a scoop of ice-cream, looking up from her bowl of deep red Boysenberry Passion as they sat at one of the tables at Fortescue’s ice-cream parlour. “Where were you last night?”

“What? Oh, nowhere,” Draco said, trying for nonchalance as he lifted his own cone of apple-flavoured ice-cream to his lips.

“Really? Because no one could find you later in the night. Someone even said they thought you’d slipped out for a secret rendezvous, but you wouldn’t do that without telling your friend, right?”

Draco sighed. Wasn’t it enough that Pansy already had a bloody bag full of siren-perfume? What else did she want?

“Okay… I was with Potter.”

“Again?” Pansy’s eyebrows rose with interest. “On a date?”

Draco scowled, trying to calm his beating heart. “Of course not.”

“Ah. So you – what, went back to your place for a romantic night of love-making?”

“No,” Draco tried to sneer witheringly. Thank Merlin they hadn’t actually gone back to Draco’s place yesterday, when he and Harry had snuck out of Blaise’s engagement party to Daphne Greengrass. Draco had claimed that would be the first place anyone looked for him. But the real reason he didn’t want to take Harry back to his place was that he didn’t think he could take having Harry in his bed and the scent of him on his pillows for just the one night. Draco had worried Harry would need further convincing, but Harry had easily agreed to go back to his own place, and Draco had taken Harry’s hand as Harry Apparated them there.

Then they had fallen into bed on soft silk sheets, kissing desperately as Draco yanked off Harry’s clothes as fast as he could. Draco tried – and failed – to convince himself again that this was just sex. But when Harry moaned as Draco slid inside, there was no stopping the flutter of emotions that filled his heart, and he’d had to bite down on his lip to stop himself saying anything like, “Merlin, Harry, you’re gorgeous,” or “That’s it, love, perfect.”  

It had been so, so close.

But Draco knew that he was just one in a string of lovers. Harry wasn’t looking for more than a casual hook-up; he’d confessed to Draco over a drink at the Leaky Cauldron that as soon as things got serious with someone they always fell apart – his relationships with Chang and Ginny Weasley both suffering the same fate. Shouldn’t it be easy, Harry had said earnestly, with the right person? Someone he could trust, someone he loved, and who loved him, who was right and good and made him fall for all the right reasons? But, Harry had added with a laugh, such a person was impossible to find. Harry had then tilted his head and asked Draco with a cheeky grin, had Draco found a fabulous person like that for himself yet?

And Draco had to swallow and blushingly admit that no, he hadn’t.

If Harry wanted to fall into bed with someone and have some fun, well, Draco wasn’t stupid enough to look a gift Abraxan in the mouth. He’d take what he could get.

Even if he desperately wanted more.

Pansy took another spoonful of her lavish ice-cream before swivelling around on her stool, crossing her legs. “So you have no problem at all with that.”

Draco looked up to see Harry outside of Madam Malkin’s, blushing as a young, pretty witch tucked back a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair, winking at him.

Although the sight was like an Aguamenti to the face, Draco managed to huff out a bored sigh, slinking back on his chair. “Like I have anything to worry about.”

“You mean since she’s wasting her time?” Pansy asked, eyelashes fluttering. “Because you can get Harry moaning and pliant for you, grasping your shoulders and crying out your name, wrapping his legs around your hips, letting you finish inside him?”

“Pansy!” Draco gritted out, though his ears felt very hot. “We’re not a couple from your favourite romance novel!”

“Oh, right,” Pansy held a hand to her chest, wearing a chastened expression. “I just forgot, you see, seeing you mooning over Potter all the time.”

“I’m not,” Draco explained, “mooning over him. I’m keeping a watch that our secret shagging remains a, what was the word? Secret.”

“Right… ” Pansy’s eyebrows narrowed.

Draco knew he was fighting a losing battle.

Because while Harry’s friends were none the wiser about Harry and Draco’s relationship – and Draco was flabbergasted as to how none of them had caught on yet – Pansy could tell from the very start. Draco had met her for coffee in Diagon Alley the day after their first tryst, and he must have been daydreaming about the night before, because Pansy had merely lifted a knowing eyebrow and Draco had flushed.

It was hard to deny anything after that.

But things were fine. Or they would be, as soon as Pansy got off his case.

“Just you watch,” Draco said, brandishing his ice-cream at Pansy. “Luna’s having an art exhibit on Friday, and I’m going to behave like a perfectly normal wizard. No pining or anything. You’ll see.”

Luna’s exhibit seemed to be the event of the season. There were hundreds of people flitting about and sipping from champagne flutes, and excited murmurs filled the floor of the exhibition. 

Unfortunately Draco had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. Vague, colourful blobs covered the canvases in soft pink, lilac, and turquoise. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the layout, paintings whimsically hanging at all heights along the walls. There were even a few pieces of artwork with just a cluster of speckled dots in one corner. Draco spied Professor Trelawney gazing up at a canvas of what appeared to be flames arising from a lake, her hands clasped together in awe. When Draco turned back around from grabbing a drink from a passing waiter, he saw Luna approaching, her eyes bright as she made her way over to him.

“Are you enjoying the exhibit, Draco?” Luna asked, a smile gracing her lips and her eyelashes fluttering in excitement. 

“Er, lovely, Luna,” Draco said quickly, lifting a hand to gesture at the nearest piece, which appeared to have a double-headed person on it. “It’s like nothing else I’ve seen before. Like the very fount of inspiration and - and dreams.”

Luna clapped her hands together, nodding with delight. “Oh! That’s exactly what I was going for. I’m so thrilled that you feel it.”

They turned back to the canvas, and Draco listened to Luna describe her inspiration, “… it’s all about the colour palette, see,” Luna was saying, throwing up her hand in a flourish and only just barely avoiding knocking over Draco’s drink, which he had quickly shifted out of the way. “Pixies were my inspiration for this piece. They’re incredibly strong – and they use their abilities for pranks and tricks, but they could be such a help to society, if we just gave them a chance.”

Luna then moved with Draco to the next painting, but just as she was opening her mouth, Draco spied Hermione, and he called her over. Draco then happily deposited Luna by her side, saying that Hermione “had trouble imagining creatures that she couldn’t see, so might benefit from some special help from the artist”. Luna eagerly turned to look at the painting in front of them, and started talking about what, exactly, the nature of a Wrackspurt was. Draco gave a sigh of relief and headed eagerly for the bar.

Draco was just chuckling to himself, about to take another sip of wine, when Harry sidled up next to him.

“Finally – should have known you’d be at the bar.”

“Oh, hush,” Draco replied. “It’s a bloody abstract art exhibition.  This helps me to understand the paintings better.”

“A likely excuse.”

They stood in silence for a minute, watching the gallery. There were people drifting from wall to wall, looking at the pieces with either appreciative nods or looks of confusion, eyebrows drawn deeply together. Draco hadn’t seen Harry since their last night together, and he kept sneaking glances at him, admiring how Harry looked in his handsome tailored suit and tie. 

“So Draco, now that we’re here… ” Harry reached over to fiddle with the cuff of Draco’s jacket. “Maybe you can help me with something.”

“Understanding the art? Goodness, no,” Draco shook his head, unable to keep back a grin as Harry stepped even closer. 

“Oh, that ship’s long sailed,” Harry said in a low voice. He leaned in even closer, his breath caressing Draco’s ear. “I meant that I thought there was an unsecured janitor’s office down the hall. It wouldn’t be responsible to leave it uninspected. Who knows what sort of a security leak could be present?”

Draco was having a – well – hard time ignoring the way his body was reacting to Harry’s suggestive smirk.

“Well – well I would hate to be thought of as irresponsible,” Draco said, to which Harry vehemently nodded.

“That’s exactly what I thought.”

“I really think we’d better check it out then. Sooner rather than later.”

“Obviously sooner. Otherwise we’re leaving Luna and her, er, art exhibit vulnerable,” Harry replied immediately. “It’s really our duty, as Aurors.”

“Hurry up then,” Draco said, turning abruptly and taking long strides to the exit, yanking Harry along behind him.

Harry let out a laugh as they slipped out the door, and the second they’d left the room, Draco leaned in to kiss him, Harry eagerly kissing him back.

It took no time at all to fumble their way to the janitor’s room, stumbling inside and tearing off clothing as they went. They performed extensive locking charms, which made the janitor’s office the most secure room in the entire building.

And soon Draco was bending Harry over the janitor’s desk; protection, lubrication and stretching charms falling from his lips so they didn’t have to waste time. They both groaned as Draco pushed inside, Harry snug and warm and so tight around him. Harry let out a pleased sigh, and Draco slumped on top of him as he tried to avoid coming on the spot.

“Come on, come on,” Harry urged, hips canting back, making Draco bite back a groan. He knew he wasn’t going to last long; Harry was too tempting, too gorgeous – but he was determined that Harry wouldn’t leave anything less than satisfied.

Draco gripped Harry’s hips tightly as he pounded into him, relishing the sweet moans slipping out of Harry’s mouth, as he called for Draco to “Go faster already,” and “Do it – just like that, oh yes!” until Harry was a panting mess under him. Draco knew he was close, and slipped a hand to Harry’s cock, wrapping his fingers around him and giving one final thrust –

And then Harry was coming, a soft moan leaving his lips as he slumped in Draco’s embrace, his arsehole so, so tight around Draco, leaving Draco helpless not to follow.

Circe, it was… like magic, every time.

Like they fit together, lock to a key.

Like they were perfect together.

Draco let himself lie panting on Harry’s back for a few precious seconds before he drew back, casting a cleaning charm over both of them.

What would it be like, Draco wondered, to draw Harry close to him afterwards? To giggle and whisper to each other in low, loving voices?

Before his thoughts could run away with him, Draco crouched down to collect his clothes and pull them on. 

But he couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted over while Harry stretched as he got up, his glorious sun-kissed muscles gleaming.

“Always hits the spot,” Harry murmured, looking cheekily up at Draco.

Draco ignored the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh? Good.”

Harry massaged his abdomen, still gloriously naked. His muscles rippled as he stroked the spot he’d been pressed against the desk, a soft smile on his lips. “I wish all classy events were as fun as this.”

“That’s the sex talking,” Draco pointed out, as he combed back his hair with his fingers. “Right – I’ll head back first, shall I?”

“Be my guest – I certainly need a bit of time so I’m not, uh, limping too noticeably in front of the press.”

Their eyes met, and the green of Harry’s eyes accompanied by his adorable smile made Draco’s breath catch. He was tempted to offer to carry Harry to bed, so they could rest and relax together, curled up in each other’s arms…

Instead, he gave a swift nod, reaching for the door handle. “Very considerate. Once I would have thought you’d do anything to be the centre of attention. Good to know you’re not incredibly self-absorbed.”

Harry’s soft laugh as Draco exited stayed with him for the rest of the evening. And when he caught Harry’s eye they couldn’t resist grinning at each other.

Things started getting more complicated after that.

“Draco? Do you have a sec?”

Draco looked up from his paperwork at Harry’s voice. Draco’s desk was covered in parchment, reference books, and Wizengamot reports. His partner, Mandy Brocklehurst, was a stickler for rules, and Draco had sort of… let his paperwork go a bit, in the past few days.

Or, well, weeks.

But he was on to it now!

An interruption from the Boy who Lived, though… that could be important. Draco supposed that he had to, regretfully, set his work aside. 

He met Harry’s eyes with a smile. “Of course, tell me.”

“Come to mine tonight?”

Draco blushed. Harry had never asked him over at work before. 

“Harry,” Draco said quickly, “I - I mean, of course I’d like to, but maybe it would be safer to work out some sort of signal - ”

“Oh!” Now Harry’s cheeks became pink. “Actually, I wanted to know if you could help me with something at Grimmauld - ”

“Right, right,” Draco said hastily. “Of course. Well, I’m having a late dinner with my mother tonight, so if it’s to do with Grimmauld, wards, or spellwork, it might be better to plan for tomorrow, in case something goes horribly wrong.”

“Okay, how about say, seven o’clock tomorrow?”

“Sure, see you then - if I can ever finish the rest of this paperwork.”

“Come on, Draco. You can do it. I know you have excellent stamina,” Harry whispered in a low voice, before winking as he walked away.

Draco’s ears were burning, but he decided he didn’t mind it. 

And that was how, despite telling himself not to crave anything domestic, Draco found himself helping Harry set up a spare room for Teddy.

“Andromeda should have a bit of time to herself, you know?” Harry said, opening the door to one of the cordoned-off bedrooms at Grimmauld Place. Harry coughed as they stepped inside, dust motes swirling around them.

“And you think,” Draco asked, looking around, “that she’d approve of him staying in a place like this?”

Gloomy black curtains hung in thick velvet heaps, a dark wardrobe loomed out of the shadows, and great silver serpent banners adorned the walls. The cherry floorboards were laid in a beautiful parquet pattern though, Draco supposed, and although the grand bedframe had tarnished, it still possessed a quiet majesty. But the room was undoubtedly bleak. Draco wouldn’t have stayed in it himself.

Then again, Draco was the sort of person who appreciated fresh-cut flowers, and rich silks, and large bay windows to look out over the sparkling lake on the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

“Well, no, Andromeda wouldn’t approve,” Harry admitted, looking at Draco with a grin. “But that’s why we’re fixing it up, see?”

“And I have to be here because… ?”

“Because you love Teddy,” Harry answered immediately. “And you’re a Black, so the house might respond to you better – Merlin knows whenever I try something the house seems to behave like I’m personally going to erase its entire existence from the map.”

Draco frowned. “I thought you said the place was already Unplottable?”

Harry nudged his shoulder. “You know what I mean. The house is practically in love with its snooty Pureblood descendants. Maybe it wouldn’t mind if you made some changes.”

“Well, there’s a lot I’d change,” Draco agreed, raising an eyebrow. He may have been a Slytherin teenager in his youth but even he had to admit that the room was a bit much.

“I knew that you would have the best taste out of all of my friends,” Harry continued happily. “And I thought it could be fun to work together.”

Harry’s eyes flashed quickly over to him.

“Fine. But I don’t want any complaining,” Draco warned.

“Oh, I can be good.” Harry shot Draco a wicked grin, his voice a soft purr.

Draco groaned, a delicious flare of arousal shooting through him. “Shut up and stop trying to seduce me,” he said, and Harry grinned.

“So, I was thinking of gold and navy-blue for the colours – in honour of Puddlemere United,” Harry said, walking further into the room. “They’re his favourite Quidditch team, and maybe we could put a poster on the wall?”

“That would brighten up the room nicely,” Draco said, following Harry inside. “That could go next to the bed. Hmmm this wardrobe is oak - very nice. A statement piece, an original from the famed woodworker Lawrence Veneris, if I recall correctly… We might be able to salvage it.”

“Cleaning charm, d’you reckon?” Harry asked in a low voice.

They cast a powerful Scourgify together, lifting what was probably a century of dust from the now-handsome oak wardrobe.

“Much better,” Draco said softly. “But we have got to do something about these other banners, they’re blocking all the light.”

“I’ve tried to Vanish them before, but it didn’t work,” Harry admitted, green eyes roving over the giant silver snake.

Draco couldn’t keep back a smug grin. “Oh, Potter, didn’t you ever listen to McGonagall? ‘Where do Vanished objects go? Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything’. This type of banner cannot be Vanished, since it’s part of the original plans. However,” he added, seeing Harry frowning adorably at him, “it can be Transfigured into something else.”

Draco thought for a moment, before giving a swish of his wand. The blazing silver serpent vanished, and instead a much smaller banner appeared, now displaying a playful polar bear, who scuffed at the snow before loping joyfully around a small igloo. Sunlight now poured in from the window next to the poster, setting the snow sparkling.

“Hmmm, much better,” Harry said in a pleased voice.

“Well… thanks, Harry,” Draco said, turning around to hide his flushing cheeks.

Harry merely let out a delighted laugh as he walked to stand beside him, and they lifted their wands at the dark walls together.

They obviously slept together after they’d turned the spare bedroom into a beautiful haven ready for Teddy to spend the night. And then Draco couldn’t help pulling Harry along behind him to the gents on Friday night, when all their friends got together to celebrate Hermione’s birthday.

But it wasn’t his fault.

Harry had chosen to wear the tight dark jeans that clung to his arse and made it impossible for Draco to look away.

And he’d paired it with a light cashmere jumper, in green.

He might as well have been nudging Draco’s foot under the table.

Which he’d also been doing!

They stole away to the bathrooms, hurriedly locking the door before they fell upon each other kissing. Draco clutched Harry’s arse, grinding against him as they kissed, and it didn’t take long until they were coming in their trousers, arms around each other as they caught their breath.

Harry grinned happily. “Finally; you were staring at my arse so long I thought you were never going to make a move.”

Draco whispered a cleaning charm, an absurd thrill running through him as Harry’s arms tightened around him.

“Then why did you keep bending over?” Draco asked.

Harry turned red, and Draco clenched his hand to stop himself cupping Harry’s cheek.

“Can I help it that I kept dropping my fork?” Harry replied, a grin sweeping over his face.

“Can you make it less obvious next time?” Draco said, slipping out past Harry. “Pansy was looking, and I was worried her eyes were going to pop out of her head.”

“Fine,” Harry said, far too cheerfully for someone whose secret relationship had practically been shoved in his friends’ faces. “I can go back to only wearing Wizarding robes, they’re much more easy to move around in… ”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oh?” Harry quirked an eyebrow at him.

Damn.

“I mean – Wizarding robes are appropriate, of course, in the proper setting,” Draco said quickly. “But it’s important to be versed in Muggle clothing too – to not risk breaking the Statute of Secrecy in Muggle-occupied areas.”

“But I already know how to wear Muggle clothes.”

Draco sighed. There was no winning with him. Unless… “Then we need you to provide an example to the Wizarding world!” Draco clicked his fingers.

Harry snorted. “Fine. I’ll keep wearing Muggle clothes. Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

“And you’re still coming shopping with me tomorrow, right?”

“If you need me there, Potter.”

Except, when they went back to the table, and the waiter - some prat called Lachlan - started flirting with Harry, Draco found that his mood darkened faster than a room filled with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder.

Draco shifted in his chair, plucking up one of the menus and hiding behind it so he didn’t have to see how Lachlan batted his eyes and trailed his fingers along Harry’s shoulder.

Pansy huffed next to him. “Draco, you’re an idiot,” she declared, stirring a fruity pink drink.

Draco frowned at her. “Pray tell, how you came to that conclusion.”

“You’re head over heels for him but you’re happy to just – what, let other blokes flirt with him?” Pansy asked, her eyes flickering over to Lachlan, who threw Harry a wink as he walked away.

“No,” Draco said urgently. “He just wants something casual. I can’t scare him off!”

“And you think the depths of your feelings for him would overwhelm him like a flooding tsunami and you don’t want to wreck that sort of destruction? Well, that’s awfully thoughtful of you, actually,” Pansy said as she sat back, stirring her cocktail slowly.

Fucking witch.

“I have no such depth of feelings, Pansy, Merlin.”

“So the reason you don’t want to tell him anything is… ?”

Draco sighed. “He can’t actually want me, Pans.”

Pansy took a slow sip of her drink through its offensively curly straw. “And you think that because… ?”

Draco ruffled his hair. “You’re sweet, Pansy, but you have got to remember that Harry’s the darling of the Wizarding world.” Draco paused, considering. “No one wants to see him with a Death Eater. We’re just friends, anyway. He certainly doesn’t want a relationship.”

Pansy lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really.”

“Yes,” Draco stressed. “We get along because I’m good in bed. And I guess because… I’m good with style? And Pureblood household magic. But he’s never said one thing to me about becoming… more.”

“But… aren’t you going furniture shopping together tomorrow?”

“He needs a new bedside table!”

Pansy sighed.

Draco scowled at her in return.

Pansy picked the menu from his fingers. “Fine, Draco. I’ll leave you and Potter to your not-couply domestic bliss. Let me get you a sandwich before you go, though. You know, so you have strength for trudging around the homewares shop tomorrow with your not-boyfriend.”

“I’ll have you know, I eat plenty, I just have delicate muscle tone,” Draco said snootily, sneaking another look at Lachlan.

Unfortunately, Lachlan had biceps that would put athletes to shame.

Urrrgh.

What a knob.

But the next day, it was like Harry had completely forgotten about Lachlan. Not that Draco minded. Harry grinned in delight at Draco outside the store, bouncing on his feet (oh, he was so cute). And Draco found himself quietly excited to go shopping with Harry.

But he hadn’t been prepared for what Harry’s taste in furniture was like. In one word? Appalling.

“What do you think of this one?” Harry turned to Draco with a grin.

“Hmmm? Which – that one?” Draco sniffed. “Only if you’re completely blind.”

It was absolutely abhorrent. Like something out of his family’s crypt. And Harry wanted that next to his bed? Where Draco would have to open it to get out the lube? Absolutely not.

“Fine, what do you suggest then?”

Draco cast an eye around the various bedside tables strewn around them. He stared at Harry, who was smiling winningly at Draco.

Draco turned away from him and walked to the one passable piece of furniture – a beautiful mahogany side-table that would look gorgeous with Harry’s maroon sheets.

“This one.”

“Really, Draco?”

“What, you don’t like it?” Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“What? No – no it’s, er, lovely? … I don’t know much about furniture.” Harry grinned sheepishly at him.

Draco’s heart wibble-wobbled. Fuck. What was Harry doing to him? He cleared his throat, stepping closer to Harry.

“Well do you trust me?”

“Of – of course.”

“Then get the fucking bedside table, Potter.”

Draco turned away to motion for the store’s helper to collect the table, and the stocky blond boy hurried over and immediately loaded the table onto a portable stretcher to take it to the front. Excellent.

But Harry’s eyes lit up as he saw a whole spread of wardrobes in front of him.

“No, Harry – we already sorted out Teddy’s room!” Draco begged, tugging Harry’s sleeve.

“Come on, Draco, we can just have a look. You know, I never had furniture of my own, growing up. Just my cousin’s old things.”

Harry threw another glance at the wardrobes, and Draco’s heart lurched.

“Fine. A quick look, but then we really should be going.”

Harry grinned, the smile transforming his face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Merlin.”

Then Harry took his hand, pulling Draco further along the main store walkway.

“Wh – Harry, let me go!”

“But I need you to come with me,” Harry said, smiling at him again. “Otherwise how would I be able to pick something that won’t offend Grimmauld Place? All the choices you made for Teddy’s room were amazing.”

It was hard, Draco discovered, to frown at someone who was grinning so happily at you.

“Alright. But after that, we’re taking the bedside table back home. I mean, to your home.”

Harry pulled Draco over to ooh and ahhh over the wardrobes, and yes, it was actually very sweet how excited he got. Draco even let Harry convince him that they should grab a cart and have a look through the store on the way to the checkout, in case there were any great deals on kitchenwares or crockery. Draco found some very elegant silver and green salt-and-pepper shakers, and Harry discovered a beautiful silver and gold patterned table runner with olive branches.

But just because Draco thought they were sorted, did not mean they were finished.

“Harry. I don’t get it – why do you think you need a spice rack?” Draco asked. “You’re terrible at cooking. You go over to Weasley’s whenever you need, or Andromeda and Teddy’s.”

“But I could learn, Draco.”

“You?”

“Suppose I want to cook dinner for someone. Then what do I do if I don’t have any, you know, basil?” Harry’s eyes were teasing.

Okay, so he was joking. He must have been.

“And who are you cooking for?” Draco’s eyes narrowed again. 

“It’s a secret.”

“Right. A secret. Well, maybe you can secretly get a spice rack when you actually have someone to cook for.”

Harry added the spice rack to the cart anyway.

Draco shook his head in disbelief, but couldn’t help picturing Harry rushing around the kitchen; maybe wearing a cute apron, getting a meal ready, with flour on his cheek and excitement in his eyes.

Harry continued loading the cart up, with tea towels (“Teddy keeps using them as capes”), pegs (“I’m not as good at drying charms as you are”), and coasters (“because you insisted it’s uncivilised to only have one, Draco”).

Then Harry and Draco arrived at the mugs section.

Harry’s eyes lit up. He immediately started looking at all the mugs, exclaiming over the bright colours and reaching out to trail his fingers over the curling handles.

“I’m going to get one,” Harry said eagerly. “There’s always room for a cute mug.”

“Well, I guess you can’t really have too many,” Draco noted, as Harry reached over to select one.

“What about this?” Harry asked, picking up a mug with a lion on it.

“Really, Potter?”

Harry laughed as he put it down. “Only joking… Oh!”

Draco looked up to see Harry holding a blue and white patterned mug with a cartoon cloud on it.

Harry turned to Draco. “What about this one?”

“I mean, it’s kind of cute,” Draco said. “But the weather’s like that all the time. What about … oh, here!” Draco held up a mug with a brown grizzly on it that said ‘I’m Bearly Awake’. “Get it? Because he hasn’t had his morning cup yet?”

“Hmmmm that’s cute, but – oh!” Harry excitedly picked out a mug picturing a bow tie, with a ceramic top-hat cover to keep the drink warm. “This one is perfect!”

Draco wrinkled his nose. “No, Potter. Put it back.”

Harry lifted the cup closer to Draco’s nose. “Look, it’s so cute!”

Draco swatted it away, ignoring Harry’s laughter as the other man placed the bow tie-embossed cup into their cart.

He could not convince Harry to get a different one. Even when Draco found an even cuter mug that was purple with white stripes. Draco carefully cradled the purple and white striped mug in his hands. Even if Harry couldn’t see it, it was the perfect mug.

Draco snuck it into the shopping cart, too.

Draco was too busy with an urgent Auror assignment to visit Harry the next week. He and Brocklehurst were assigned to tail two suspected Death Eater allies, who had been sighted in a Knockturn Alley side-street. There’d been whispers of a plot to break into the Ministry and attack their top DMLE agents, and Draco and Brocklehurst were sent to gather information.

But what was meant to be a surveillance mission soon turned into a desperate duel, dark curses flying.

Draco had managed to stop the perpetrators, but he’d been hit while he was assembling anti-Apparition wards, nearly blacking out as pain exploded in his leg. It had taken the Healers hours to ensure they had fully removed all traces of the curse, before they let him leave his bed. 

When Brocklehurst was stuck completing the mission report, Draco discovered that another Auror had volunteered to help him home. 

“I could not believe it when Robards told me,” Harry said, supporting Draco as he walked down the Spell Damage corridor.

“Oh?” Draco asked dryly. “I suppose I should be flattered, that you have such a high opinion of my spellwork then, to think there was no way I could be injured.”

“No,” Harry disagreed, shaking his head. “That you’d be idiotic enough to try to take them down yourself.”

Draco bristled. It wasn’t as if he’d had a choice.

Brocklehurst hadn’t been quick enough. She hadn’t heard the whispers about plans to attack Harry.

“Look,” Draco spoke up, limping down the corridor, Harry’s arm around his waist. “I caught them, and so what if one of them cursed my leg. The Healers got to it in time. Those wizards were seriously bad, mixed up in really dangerous stuff. They could have done a lot worse.”

They could have cursed you.

Harry grumbled. “I still don’t like it.”

Draco sighed. “I just have to take it easy for a few days. Mother will be thrilled, she’s never liked me working for the Aurors.”

Harry frowned. “I thought she was proud of you?”

“Of course she is,” Draco shook his head. “But she still thinks it’s beneath a Malfoy to work in the field. So she’ll use it as an opportunity to ask me what I’m working there for, and tell me what else I could be doing that’s fulfilling for myself and ‘the future of the Malfoy line’.”

They hobbled in silence to the floo.

“It’s worthwhile,” Harry said in a whisper as they stood in front of the fireplace. “Having you here.”

Draco just shrugged, but inside his heart fluttered.

“Okay, so I think the easiest way will be to travel through together,” Harry started talking.

Oh, Salazar.

“… otherwise, if I send you first, I’ll crash into you,” Harry was saying, “or if I go first, you won’t be able to get into the fireplace.”

“So you want us to go in together,” Draco whispered, horribly aware of Harry’s arm around his waist.

Harry nodded.

And that was how Draco found himself shuffling into the floo, Harry’s arms around him, and how they spun through the fireplaces with their arms around each other.

When at last the fireplace loomed, Harry helped Draco up. But as Draco squinted around the cheery room, full of plush red couches and orange cushions of Grimmauld Place’s sitting room, he narrowed his eyes.

“This isn’t Malfoy Manor.”

“Glad to see the curse left your vision intact.”

“Potter, what am I doing here?” Draco asked as Harry helped him over to the couch.

“You need someone to take care of you!” Harry exclaimed, stepping back. “Now just sit tight, I’ll bring you some tea.”

“I - well, thanks,” Draco said quietly, as he lay back.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Harry murmured. He walked to the doorway leading to the kitchen, pausing at the door. “Earl Grey okay?”

“Whatever you like, I’m not picky.”

“Yeah, right!” Harry snorted from the kitchen. “So, who’s your favourite for the League final, Draco?”

Draco grinned. “Falcons haven’t lost all season…”

Harry soon returned with a tea-tray, nodding intently as Draco continued talking. He set out Draco's favourite shortbread biscuits and a familiar mug with a top-hat cover. Then Harry handed Draco a gorgeous mug with purple and white stripes, full of perfectly-steeped tea, and Draco’s breath caught as Harry grinned, the mug cradled between both of their hands.

Draco ended up staying with Harry for the entire week. 

He had no idea how it happened, except that whenever he started talking about leaving, Harry would look at him with these hurt-crup eyes, and Draco would let himself be convinced that no, actually, he wasn’t imposing on Harry, and that ‘it was really convenient’ for Harry to have someone to go home from work with. 

Draco refrained from mentioning that they were taking magical transport which literally took them only thirty seconds to travel anywhere, and that the longest part of the trip was walking with each other from the DMLE to the Atrium’s polished fireplaces.

But it was nice. Very nice. Harry was always smiling in the morning when they ate breakfast together. Draco demonstrated some of the laundry spells his mother had taught him, causing Harry to whisper about the wonders of magic. They both sat together on the couch after they got home from work, talking about their day. Harry helped Draco with his physiotherapy, sitting beside him, his strong hands cupping Draco's calf and helping him move his leg, gazing at Draco with care and gentleness so tender that Draco hardly dared to look away. 

Draco found his mind drifting to Harry more and more. 

He would sleep at night, his head on one of Harry’s pillows. 

He learned that Harry often snuck down at midnight for a snack, sleep-rumpled and so much younger without his statement glasses, which made Draco want to get up from the couch and pull Harry into his arms. 

Draco had several close calls when he bumped into Harry leaving the bathroom after a shower, which always made Draco flustered and look away from Harry’s bare chest and loose joggers on his hips, even though it was nothing he hadn’t already seen before.

His third night, Harry insisted he should take Draco “to a proper bed” and Draco gasped, blushing from the rumpled couch as Harry hastily clarified that he meant Teddy’s bedroom. Harry slid his arm around Draco’s waist, helping him up the stairs, and when Harry settled Draco in the bed, drawing the silk navy sheets over him, they exchanged shy smiles.

Draco helped himself to Harry’s soap, enjoying the simple act of running his hands along his body and breathing in the familiar scent of rosemary and cedarwood; once he’d even wanked in the shower when Harry was out of the house, and he would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came except he was too flooded with endorphins to care. 

One evening when Draco completed one of his reports sooner than he’d expected - he’d taken to using the grand study on the second floor for the task of keeping up with paperwork when not at work - he went to the sitting room looking for Harry, and was surprised to find Harry on his knees before the floo, talking to Mrs Weasley about how to make the perfect pumpkin and ricotta ravioli. Draco huddled by the door, watching Harry and Mrs Weasley talk in murmured voices about the proper amount of basil, before he slipped away. The next night when they sat down for dinner together, Draco gripped his fork tightly when he saw beautiful pillows of pasta filled with pumpkin and ricotta on his plate, looking up to see Harry already watching him with a smile. Draco’s heart ached when he lay down to sleep that night, full of delicious food and thoughts wrapped up in Harry. It was impossible for him to think of anything else.

When Draco’s leg was completely healed and he moved back to the Manor, he missed the little slice of domesticity that he’d somehow stumbled upon with Harry.

Draco was obviously still simmering in feelings because he let slip to Pansy where he’d been staying when they met up for drinks.

“You… you’ve moved in with Potter?” Pansy asked in a hushed voice.

She seemed stunned. Seriously surprised - her mouth a perfect 'o' in crimson-red lipstick.

“Temporarily,” Draco stressed. “Just while my leg healed.”

“And you miss it.”

Draco sighed. “He’s so cute in the morning. You know, his hair is even worse then.”

Pansy took a deep breath. “He invited you to stay at his house, for Circe’s sake. And it sounds like you really like him. Do you think, maybe, you should talk to him, Draco?” she asked gently.

“Yeah… I do,” Draco admitted. “But I’m scared of what he’ll say.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you,” Pansy said softly.

Draco sat still, his heart pounding as he thought about it. About coming home to Harry, who was grinning, eyes lighting up when he saw Draco. Hushed nights together, not whispering on the couch, but holding hands under the covers.

Draco shifted in his chair. “I’m no Gryffindor.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and motioned for the bartender. “Well, I’m no Gryffindor either, but I always try to help out my friends… even if it has to be the Slytherin way. Now come on, join me in a final drink. Then we’ll go meet up with everyone for dinner.”

Draco gasped as Pansy placed orders for two glasses of Venus’ Elixir. He ignored the blush on his face as he informed Pansy that he did not need such a drink. Unfortunately, no one paid attention to him, and the bartender left with a wink at Pansy, leaving Draco to slump back down in his chair.

When the bartender returned carrying the two glasses of Venus’ Elixir - which turned out to be a ruby-red sangria - Draco sighed in defeat. Draco reached for a glass, only for his hand to be batted away, and for Pansy to push the other glass into his hand.

“Here, this one’s fuller. Cheers, Draco,” Pansy said as she lifted her drink, a twinkle in her eye that Draco did not want to think about. “To you – and Harry.”

“To me and Harry – right,” Draco muttered, as he took a sip of his own drink.

It was going to be a long night.

When they sat down for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, Draco started to feel … off.

Pansy pushed him into the seat down the end of the table next to Harry, and there immediately were butterflies in Draco’s tummy when Harry smiled at him.

“Harry… you look gorgeous tonight,” Draco murmured, instead of the much more sedate, ‘Hello’.

Harry looked surprised, but pleased as he grinned at Draco. But that wasn’t all.

When Ginny Weasley started talking about the incredible Seeker on her Holyhead Harpies team, Draco wasn’t able to stop himself blurting out, “I bet they never flew as well as Harry, though. Or looked as good on a broom.”

Draco could have kicked himself as all the eyes at the table turned to him. “Er, Madam Hooch complimented him in Flying Lessons. And she’s an expert,” Draco added hastily.

What was happening to him??

Things didn’t go much better when Harry’s knee brushed Draco’s under the table. Draco flushed and dropped his fork, growing even more red when he and Harry both reached for it, their hands brushing

Draco couldn’t help the way his eyes kept flitting over to Harry the rest of the night.

And when it was time to say good-bye, Draco only just managed to give his farewells to the rest of the group, before he found himself looking around to make sure no one was watching, and grabbing Harry’s hand to pull him outside.

“Draco? What…?”

But Draco had had enough – he’d been thrumming with the desire to touch Harry all evening, and finally Harry was here in front of him.

Draco pulled Harry into a kiss, his fingers twining in ebony-dark hair. Harry kissed him back, lips parting against his, allowing Draco to give a first languorous lick into his mouth, and oh – his knees grew weak as Harry moaned sweetly against him. Draco drew Harry closer, giving him another few kisses before he pulled away.

“I missed you,” Draco confessed in a rush.

Harry’s mouth dropped open. Draco’s fingers, which had been stroking Harry’s dark curls, froze, and Draco felt his cheeks heat.

He tried to explain himself. “It was different, being back home,” Draco managed to say. “At the Manor. And without someone to cuddle on the couch with.”

Fuck.

“I mean, someone to think about cuddling on the couch with.”

Oh dear, that was worse.

“No – no, someone to make love to on the couch.”

Oh no.

But now, even though Draco was quite sure he resembled an over-ripe tomato, Harry stroked his cheek with his thumb. “Really?”

Draco couldn’t help nodding. He looked into Harry’s green, green eyes, and that fluttery feeling returned.

Then Harry was kissing him, and their arms wound around each other, lips only parting for quick breaths before leaning in again. Draco pulled their hips together, letting Harry feel how hard he was against him. He peppered kisses along Harry’s jaw, making his way to the delicate spot under Harry’s ear.

“Come back to mine? Please?” the words rolled effortlessly off Draco’s tongue – as if it wasn’t the first time he’d said them.

“Yes – yes,” Harry answered, and then Draco’s arms tightened around him as he spun them away in a whirl of Apparition.

Draco managed to land them directly in his room, bypassing the wards keeping non-family members out. He pushed Harry down on his bed then climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Harry, I - I want you so much,” Draco confessed.

Harry gazed up at him, green eyes dark and a gorgeous grin on his face. Harry reached out a hand to Draco’s cheek, running his thumb along his jaw.

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

Draco turned his head, lips parting around Harry’s thumb, allowing the digit to slip into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around Harry’s thumb, closing his eyes, hearing Harry let out a low moan under him.

Draco lifted a hand to curl around Harry’s wrist, tugging the finger out of his mouth before he gently opened his eyes again. “This is how you make me feel.”

He leaned in to kiss Harry, silencing any further questions, giving him a much better use of his tongue. He moved to Harry’s jaw, then his neck, pressing a trail of kisses along each precious inch of skin. A quick gasp when Draco gave a gentle lick along Harry’s collarbone turned into an encouraging moan when Draco slid his hand under Harry’s shirt. 

A few more kisses, and they were giggling together before Harry and Draco lifted Harry’s shirt over his head. Draco was feeling rather warm himself, and he hastily shrugged off his own shirt to Harry’s evident delight, by the way his eyes darkened further. 

But with an Adonis half-naked in his bed, Draco’s attention was on Harry lying before him.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re gorgeous,” Draco couldn’t help saying, as he trailed a finger along the hardening bud of Harry’s nipple.

Harry grinned shyly, and Draco leaned in for another kiss, then murmured protection and cleaning charms, his fingers trailing down Harry’s firm abs and the delightful treasure-trail to his boxers, until his hand finally wrapped around Harry’s length. Harry was hot and hard in his palm, and Draco groaned as his thumb circled the tip, wetness leaking out.

“Draco… ” Harry whispered, his hips thrusting into Draco’s hand.

Draco gave him another stroke, earning a soft whimper. “Can I… ” Draco whispered, his cheeks flushing. “Can I suck you off?”

Draco had always been a bit nervous about this particular act, since the first - and only - time he’d given head it hadn’t gone well. He’d been a bit too eager and choked as he tried to take Roger Davis’ entire cock in his mouth, and even though Davis had been lovely and brushed a thumb along Draco’s cheek, wiping away embarrassed tears, Draco hadn’t dared to try it again.

But Draco had always been so, so tempted by Harry’s cock to give it another go; and now the words just slipped out of him. 

Harry blushed all the way to his chest. “Uhm… well yes – of course, yes!”

Draco slid off of Harry’s hips, fingers immediately working at Harry’s belt. Before long, he’d undone the strip of leather, and he and Harry were pushing Harry’s pants and trousers all the way off toward the end of the bed.

Harry’s cock begged for attention, rising proudly and flushed deep red at the tip. Draco was helpless not to answer the call, leaning over immediately and parting his lips to take the first taste of Harry on his tongue.

Harry gave a shocked cry and thrust his hips up, seeking more of Draco’s mouth. Draco managed to hold Harry’s hips down, keeping him firmly on the bed, as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. He discovered he loved the feel of Harry’s hard cock in his mouth, and tentatively he drew back, giving a shy lick over the tip before taking Harry into his mouth again. 

Harry’s hands slid into his hair, gently guiding Draco further and further to take more of his length in his mouth; Draco was nervous, so nervous, as he slowly moved lower, but he drew back before he pushed himself too far, Harry’s fingers curling gently in his hair. He carefully traced his tongue around Harry’s length, eyelids fluttering closed as he groaned at the taste of him. 

He slipped a hand to palm at his own cock, hips moving leisurely as lowered his head to take Harry deeper. He had just about gained the nerve to try to relax his throat when Harry’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging him back and releasing Harry’s cock with a pop. 

Draco blinked up at him in confusion. “Did… did I do that wrong?”

But Harry looked at him with dark, sultry eyes, his hands guiding Draco to crawl back up his body until they were face to face, Draco’s body sprawled on top of him.

“Fuck, of course not, Draco, that was bloody fantastic, I just - ” Harry trailed off, his face red. “I was afraid I was going to come. And I wanted to wait.”

Draco groaned, surging forward to kiss Harry again, licking Harry’s lower lip to coax his mouth open for his tongue. Draco only drew back when he realised he was rutting against Harry’s hip, rolling his hips instinctively as they kissed. 

“Don’t be shy now, Draco,” Harry teased, grabbing Draco’s arse and pulling Draco against him. “I can always use a confidence boost.”

Draco nibbled at Harry’s throat, his tongue darting out to lick up a tiny drop of sweat. “Mmmm, the arrogant Harry Potter, I feel like I’m back at Hogwarts.”

Harry laughed, and the vibration buzzed against Draco’s lips where they pressed against his warm, sun-kissed skin. Draco dropped another kiss along Harry’s jaw, before sliding over Harry to reach his own - very elegant - bedside table, yanking open the top draw and taking out his favourite container of lube. His cock was straining against his trousers, and Harry gave an appreciative whistle, making Draco’s whole face turn red.

“What, can I help it that you’re gorgeous?” Draco asked defensively. 

“Well are you going to let me look, Draco?” Harry asked, reaching for Draco’s belt. Soon the offending items of clothing had been removed, and Draco was crawling on top of Harry again, kissing and grinding against him, gloriously naked.

They both sighed in bliss, grinning at each other.

“Okay, Harry, roll over,” Draco whispered, leaning in to nip at Harry’s earlobe. Harry obeyed, and Draco dropped kisses down his spine, eyes fluttering at each pleased hum Harry let out as he stretched out on Draco’s king sized-bed. 

Arriving at Harry’s tailbone, Draco moaned as Harry arched his back, his gorgeous arse beckoning and perfect.

He lifted Harry’s hips, positioning Harry to kneel on his bed, and then Draco couldn’t resist parting Harry’s cheeks and leaning in to run his tongue along the gorgeous pink furl, probing further with his tongue as Harry panted in front of him. He blushed, thinking his teenage self never would have imagined kissing Harry’s arse, and yet here he was - willingly and enthusiastically doing just that, and losing himself in Harry’s pleading cries for more. Another few languid licks and Harry was pushing his hips back, and Draco couldn’t help moaning at the thought of Harry so ready and waiting for him. 

Draco drew back, fumbling with the lube as he spilled far too much all over his fingers. He took a deep breath, telling himself more was always better, and coaxed Harry to roll onto his back. He leaned in to kiss Harry, and then it was easy to introduce one, two, then three fingers - watching Harry arch against the bed, fists tight in silver sheets, low moans as he rode Draco’s fingers. Draco continued teasing him, stretching his long fingers to brush Harry’s prostate until Harry called his name, sweet pleas that Draco would never tire of hearing. 

“I’ve got you, Harry,” Draco whispered, settling in between Harry’s thighs, as Harry wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist. 

“I know you do, Draco,” Harry whispered, a shy smile on his face. “I know I can trust you.”

“Harry… you’re beautiful. Do you know what you do to me? I… ” Draco couldn’t bite back the words coming out of his mouth. “I love you. So much. Your atrocious bed-head, your loyalty to your friends, your kindness to Teddy, even your horrible taste in mugs. And I wish I had you here with me every single day, even though I never made things easy between us, and you probably don’t feel the same way, and I know how you feel about – about loving someone – ”

“Draco…” Harry said softly, his fingers grazing Draco’s waist. “How could I not love you? Do you know – Draco, it’s the easiest thing in the world, being with you. I could never resist wanting to be near you and spend time with you,” Harry said in a rush. “But I just… never knew how you felt about me.”

“I… you… really?” Draco asked shyly, and Harry nodded, before he took a deep breath.

“But now I know…” Harry trailed off, looking adorably cute. “You love me, and… I adore you. Love makes things simple in the end.”

And then Harry coaxed Draco down to kiss him again, and they only had eyes for each other. 

Neither of them noticed a tiny scoop owl flutter past the window and drop a letter in the Malfoy Manor post collection, embossed with the Parkinson family seal. 

Harry and Draco, 

I’m sick of all the lingering looks. Draco needs to ‘fess up, and save us all his whining and heartache. 

Too much pride is a sin, after all. Be honest and go after what you want - and you may be surprised just how much you can be rewarded.

I hope you have a lovely night together, and take care of each other!

Love from Venus’ Elixir (and Psyche  your good friend Pansy xx)