Title: That Love Thing
Author: Ruth Sadelle Alderson

Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: R

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and its characters belong to J.K.
Rowling and Warner Brothers. No money is being made off of this story.

Archiving: My webpage (http://www.graphousa.net/rsadelle/fiction/),
anyone else should ask. Archived versions must retain all headers.

Summary: There's an empty space in Harry's life.

Acknowledgments: Thanks are due to many people. Melle listened to me
talk through plot points, helped with a title, and provided beta
reading services. Catherine also beta read. Sky helped with names,
language, and a sticky grammar point. Molly listened to me fret about a
title, helped me pick one out, and listened to me talk about other
story related matters. Amy listened to my story related talk. If I've
forgotten anyone, I apologize, and you deserve my thanks as well. Any
remaining errors are my own.


Paperwork. The wizarding world was just as bad as the Muggle world when
it came to the thrice-damned paperwork. Harry sighed and pushed his
glasses farther up his nose. He could just go home and let it go until
tomorrow, but there wasn't anything other than his own thoughts
awaiting him there. He ignored that treacherous thought and
double-checked to be sure his personnel requisition form was properly
filled out. Last time he tried to fill one out, it had been rejected
because one checkmark was partway outside its box.

After that there was a report, and wasn't that dull. They didn't tell
you at Hogwarts that there really was a reason they made you write
essays measured in feet. He'd once had a report returned because it was
a quarter-inch too short. Another one had been sent back because he
hadn't adequately described the color of his suspect's cloak.
Hermione's reports never got sent back. He and Ron usually let her do
the actual writing, but she hadn't been out on this surveillance
mission. Lucky her. The most exciting part of the whole thing had been
their suspect's choice of ice cream.

And then there were the progress reports on active investigations that
he had to read and sign off on, with comments as needed. And then, of
course, they had to be forwarded to the next person who had to sign and
comment, which meant that he had to figure out who that person was.

He was halfway through one of Edward Simon's reports when someone
knocked on his door. He distractedly invited the person on the other
side to come in.

"You ought to be a bit more careful who you invite in, Potter," came
the smooth voice of Draco Malfoy. "You never know when a wizard of the
unsuitable sort might walk through your door."

"The spell on the door wouldn't have let you through if you intended
harm." Harry set down his quill. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco sat uninvited in one of the chairs before Harry's desk. "Is it
that far beyond the realm of the believable that I'd come just to visit
an old classmate?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Yes," he said shortly.

Draco chuckled softly. "You're right." He leaned forward, suddenly all
business. "I've come to propose an alliance."

Harry's expression became, if possible, even more suspicious. "An
alliance. Why would we want an alliance with you?"

"You know who my father is. I can get you information."

"Why would you want to?"

"I am no one's servant," Draco said with a flash of defiance in his
eyes. "My father brought me up better than that." He smirked, inviting
Harry to share the irony.

Harry merely sat back and watched him.

Draco shrugged. "It will be in my interest to rid the world of the Dark
Lord."

"This is a war, Malfoy. You'll have to take orders."

Draco was unconcerned. "If I agree with them."

"That's not good enough," Harry said coldly.

Draco watched Harry for a moment from under his eyelashes. "Let me help
plan, then. If I have a say in them, I'll follow your orders."

"How do I know you aren't a spy for Voldemort?"

Draco smiled gently. "You don't. You'll simply have to trust me." He
stood and pulled his cloak over himself. "Owl me when you've decided."
He left Harry with much to think about.

***

"I think we should do it. It makes sense."

"But it's *Malfoy*," Ron objected. "He's always tried to get us in
trouble."

"But that's just it," Hermione argued. "He couldn't stand being second
best. It makes sense that he doesn't want to be one of You-Know-Who's
lackeys."

"He trades in information," Harry put in. "He might be spying for
Voldemort," he mused. "But I think he was telling the truth."

Ron frowned. "But why now? Why didn't he try for an alliance before?"

"Harry said he deals in information," Hermione said, piecing it
together. "Maybe he didn't have enough information before." She
shrugged. "Who knows what he knows? He could be very helpful."

"Or he could be setting Harry up to be killed."

Harry shook his head. "If that were it, the door wouldn't have let him
in." He reached for quill and parchment. "That's it then, isn't it? We
have to do this." He waited for the other two to nod before he started
writing.

"Set the meeting at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "It'll be safest there."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

***

Harry was early enough that he was reasonably sure Draco hadn't arrived
yet; a quick walk-through of the train confirmed it. He chose a
compartment on the station side of the train and watched Malfoy arrive,
check his watch, and climb onto the train. Satisfied that Malfoy was,
at least, going to meet with them, he settled back with The Daily
Prophet. There'd been another attempt on Gringotts; he'd have to see
what he could find out about that.

An older witch stopped by his door. "Anything from the cart, dear?" she
asked.

Harry bought three Chocolate Frogs and some pumpkin juice. He wished
vaguely that Ron and Hermione could have ridden the train with him, but
they had other work to do and would Apparate to Hogsmeade later.
Watching Malfoy was his job.

He shook his head over the Cannons' most recent loss--he'd be hearing
about that from Ron--and put aside the paper in favor of watching the
countryside go by.

When the train arrived at the Hogwarts station, Harry came down the
steps first and watched from the corner of the eye as Draco emerged
from the other end of the train.

"Harry!" Hagrid was there to meet them, and Harry went to him for a
tight hug. "Good ter see yeh here again."

"It's good to be here." Harry said against Hagrid's voluminous coat.
"Are Ron and Hermione already here?"

"Jus' arrived this evening. They're already up at the castle with
Dumbledore." Hagrid spared a quick glance for Draco. "Come along, then.
Yeh'll be wantin' some tea."

They climbed into the carriage and enjoyed a quiet ride watching the
castle grow larger and larger.

"There yeh go," Hagrid said when they'd reached it. "I'll just see ter
your luggage. Yeh go on up ter Dumbledore's office."

"Thanks, Hagrid." Harry beamed at him. "If we have time, we'll come
have tea with you before you leave."

Hagrid beamed back. "Fang'll be glad ter see yeh."

Harry laughed before leading Draco into the castle and up the stairs to
Dumbledore's office. He said, "Pastry puff," and the gargoyle leapt
aside to let them in.

Dumbledore had already poured the tea by the time they reached his
office. "Harry, Draco."

Harry smiled warmly at him. "Hello, Professor Dumbledore."

Draco nodded curtly and accepted the cup of tea. He took a seat in one
of the armchairs. Harry chose to stand.

Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "I believe we're here to discuss
your involvement in this war," he said to Draco.

Draco calmly sipped his tea. "Yes."

"And why do you want to work with us?"

"It's in my best interest to rid the world of the Dark Lord," Draco
answered mildly. "I am no one's servant. Not the Dark Lord's and
certainly not yours. Which means," he continued, "that I will not
blindly take your, or anyone else's, orders."

"Of course you won't," Dumbledore said, hiding a smile behind his
teacup. "Then I suppose we'll have to find something for you to do
together, won't we?" He turned to the other three. "Any suggestions?"

"Information," Hermione said. "Set him up with an Auror for
debriefing."

"Direct attack," Ron put in. "Have him lead us to one of You-Know-Who's
strongholds."

"And you, Harry," Dumbledore asked, "what do you suggest?"

Harry looked around the room, and his eyes came to rest on Draco. "What
do you want to do?" He noted with satisfaction the glint of respect and
approval in Draco's eyes.

"For starters, my father."

"Your father?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"My father," Draco confirmed. "I can find out where he is and what he's
doing. And I can bring you the proof of what he is, other than the Mark
on his arm." He speared Ron with a look. "Wouldn't you like to get your
hands on my father?"

"Well, yes," Ron admitted, "but how do we know we can trust you?"

Draco looked back to Harry. "You don't."

"There's no reason not to," Harry said. He looked at Ron. "You don't
have to tell him anything top secret. Just let him gather information
and give it to us." He glanced at Draco. "We'll need a system for
that."

Draco waved his concern away. "I'll take care of it."

"How are you going to do that?" Hermione demanded.

Draco sipped his tea. "I have my ways." He set his teacup on a table
and leaned forward. "I will get the information to you. Don't worry
about it." He looked at Harry. "I may need something from you that I
can report back to him."

Harry nodded. "I'll arrange it."

"He's just using us to get information," Ron protested.

"Harry you can't do that," Hermione said at the same time.

Harry's eyes never left Draco's. "He's not and I can."

Draco nodded. "I'll tell him you invited me to visit to see if you
could get me to change my ways. I'll tell him you didn't succeed."

"All right." Harry glanced out the window. "You'd best wait until
morning to leave."

Draco picked up his tea again. "Well enough." He smiled. "I'd like to
pay a visit to Professor Snape before I go."

"Severus should be in his dungeons," Dumbledore told him.

Draco nodded, clearly recognizing the dismissal. "Then I will see you
at supper."

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Hermione asked after
Draco was gone.

Harry sighed deeply. "We've been over and over this. It's the only
thing to do. He can provide us with useful information, and he can help
us get to his father. Lucius Malfoy is one of Voldemort's staunchest
and most loyal supporters. With him in Azkaban, or worse, maybe the
others will rethink their support."

"I think Harry has made the right decision," Dumbledore said. "More
tea?"

***

Harry scowled at the plastic cup and grimly ran some water into the
kettle. He raised his wand to heat it, but was stopped by a voice
behind him.

"Pot Noodle? Really, Potter, I would have thought that even you could
do better than that."

"And I suppose you have house-elves to take care of your meals," Harry
retorted, turning to face Draco.

"Not as many as you'd think," Draco drawled. "They all want to be paid
and have days off." He heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Good help is so
hard to find."

"I'm sure it's a tragedy," Harry snorted.

"I have learned to appreciate the comforts of Muggle London." Draco
held up a bag. "Indian takeaway." When Harry merely looked at him, he
raised an eyebrow and said, "You *do* have plates, don't you, Potter?
Unless you'd rather have Pot Noodle."

Harry blinked. "No. No, of course not." He rummaged through his
cabinets and came up with two clean plates and a pair of forks. He
silently cleared a space on the table while Draco dished up the food.

"There we go." Draco set the plates on the table with a flourish. "Much
better than Pot Noodle."

Harry had to agree. Then a thought struck him. "How did you get into my
flat?"

Draco only smiled mysteriously at him. "It wouldn't do to tell you all
my secrets."

They ate in silence then. Only when he'd finished his dinner did Draco
lean back in his chair and speak again.

"That was infinitely better than your Pot Noodle."

"Yes, it was," Harry said. "Thank you." He gathered up their plates and
dumped them into the sink with a stack of other dirty dishes. "Why did
you really come here?" he asked when he turned back around.

"My father is getting restless. I need something to tell him."

Harry nodded grimly. "There's a robe that's been enchanted to enhance
any spell the wearer casts in Gringotts. Vault 853."

"That's rather sensitive information."

Harry met Draco's eyes. "It'll be moved or destroyed before anyone can
do anything about it."

Draco smiled. "Of course."

Harry closed up the boxes of food and put them in the fridge. When he
turned around again, Draco had disappeared.

***

Harry scowled as he attempted to apply the potion Hermione had given
him to the skin of his back. The places that hurt worst were, of
course, the very places he couldn't reach himself.

"Need some help, Potter?"

Harry jumped, his Quidditch-trained reflexes the only thing keeping him
from dumping the potion into the sink. "Don't *do* that!"

"Sorry," said Draco, looking anything but. He nimbly plucked the bottle
from Harry's hands and sniffed it delicately before dumping some of the
thick potion onto his hands. "What happened?" he asked as he spread the
potion evenly over Harry's back.

"Goyle tried to hit me with some sort of poison spell," Harry answered,
grimacing at his reflection in the mirror. "But instead it turned out
to be a poison ivy spell."

Draco chuckled softly. "Curses were never Gregory's strong point."

Harry met Draco's eyes in the mirror. "I don't believe he has any
strong points."

Draco's hands came to a rest on Harry's shoulders. "He can have his
uses."

Harry shook his head. "If you say so." He reached for his shirt and
Draco moved away. When he'd pulled his shirt on, Draco was gone.

***

"Potter."

Harry was on his feet and spinning around before Draco finished saying
his name. "Bloody hell, Malfoy. What happened to you?"

"Got in the middle of something with my father," Draco answered through
gritted teeth. He put one hand against a wall to keep himself upright.
"Help a fellow, would you?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Harry hurried across the room and looped Draco's
arm around his shoulders. "A hot bath?"

"I think that would be best, yes." For all that his voice was steady,
Draco leaned heavily on Harry all the way down the short hall to the
bathroom.

Harry twisted the taps to fill the tub. When he turned back, Draco was
trying to take off his robes while propping himself against the wall
with one hand. "Let me help you." Draco nodded his assent and let Harry
carefully peel off his clothes. Harry lowered him into the bath before
finding a bottle in his cabinet. "This'll help." He poured some of it
into the bath where it started to foam.

Draco raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Bubble bath?"

"A potion," Harry corrected him. "Snape invented it for us. It works
really well."

Draco looked doubtful, but he relaxed into the bath.

"I think there's some brandy around here too."

"That would be heavenly." Draco let his eyes fall closed.

Harry left him there, hoping he wouldn't drown while he wasn't
watching, and found the brandy in the back of a kitchen cabinet. He
found a miraculously clean tumbler two shelves down. He took the whole
bottle with him and waited until he was back in the bathroom before he
poured a glass.

Draco tossed back half the liquor in one swallow. "Thank you." He
sipped his second glass more carefully. "The potion seems to be working
too."

"I told you it would." Harry pulled in a chair from the living room and
sat down. "Are you going to tell me what exactly happened?"

Draco tipped his head back against the edge of the tub and closed his
eyes. "My father and I had a disagreement."

"About what?"

Draco laughed harshly. "All the same things. When am I going to swear
my allegiance to the Dark Lord? When am I going to give up my dealing
in information and do something respectable? When am I going to get
married?"

"And he did this to you because of that?" In Harry's opinion, that was
extreme, even for Lucius Malfoy.

Draco snorted. "No. He did this because I stupidly said I'd rather
sleep with you than marry Pansy Parkinson."

Harry flushed. "Oh."

Draco gulped down the rest of his brandy and held out his glass.
"Another shot for a weary wizard?"

Harry obligingly refilled his glass. "Drinking won't make it go away,"
he cautioned.

Draco sipped the brandy. "I know." He took another sip. "Mm. I think
I've soaked long enough." He handed the glass to Harry who set it on
the counter with the bottle. He started to push himself up, but fell
back with a rueful smile. "I'm afraid I'll need some help."

Harry helped him out of the bath and wrapped him in a large towel. "Do
you need to borrow some clothes?"

Draco made a face at the pile of his dirty clothes but shook his head.
"He'll be sure to notice."

Harry silently helped him put his clothes back on. "Do you want to
stay?"

"No." Draco touched Harry's arm. "Thank you for offering." He rubbed
his forehead. "I'll come back when I can."

Harry nodded and looked away for a moment. When he looked back, Draco
was gone.

***

Harry was getting used to having Draco appear in his flat. He was not,
however, used to Draco appearing in his bedroom. "What're you doing
here?" he asked groggily as Draco pulled off his robes and sat on the
edge of the bed to take off his shoes.

"I need a place to stay and you don't have a guest room." Draco slid
beneath the covers. "Go back to sleep."

Harry wanted to protest, but he was too tired. He decided it was best
to just ignore Draco. He barely registered the arm settling around his
body before he slipped easily back into sleep.

When he woke up in the morning, Draco was gone, but there was a piece
of parchment on the pillow next to him. He fumbled for his glasses and
unfolded the parchment.

"Thanks for the bed," he read. "I'll bring you something nice next
time." It was unsigned.

Harry shook his head and dropped the parchment back onto the bed. He
folded his arm over his eyes for a long moment before he forced himself
to get out of bed.

***

When Harry dragged himself home, he was surprised by the state of his
kitchen. The dishes had been washed and put away. The garbage had been
taken out. The Pot Noodle had disappeared from its usual messy pile on
the counter. He supposed it had either joined the garbage in a dumpster
or been relocated to one of the cupboards. There was something that
smelled delicious bubbling away on the stove. He was least surprised by
the presence of the blonde wizard who was stirring the pot on the
stove.

Draco looked up at his entrance and smiled at him with an expansive
wave of his arm. "I told you I'd bring you something nice."

"You can cook?" Harry asked stupidly.

"Of course I can cook. I told you, good help is hard to find. And
unlike you, I have no desire to eat styrofoam that masquerades as
food." Draco seemed to notice Harry's slumped shoulders and dull eyes.
"Come on, then. You go soak in a nice warm bath while I finish dinner."
When Harry continued to stand there staring at him, he moved across the
kitchen and pushed Harry in the direction of the bathroom. "Go on," he
said more gently. "Supper will be ready when you get out."

Harry allowed himself to be pushed, and he found that Draco had already
drawn him a bath. He dropped his clothes onto the floor and sank into
its warm heat. It did make him feel better. He wondered idly if Draco
had put a relaxation spell on it, then decided that he didn't really
care.

"You'd make someone a lovely house-elf," he told Draco when he emerged
from the bathroom wearing only a dressing gown.

Draco nearly smiled. "I'll be sure to come to you if I ever need a
reference." He poured wine into the glasses on the table and dished up
the food. "It's a good thing I chose to do pasta," he commented. "It
didn't matter how late you came home. The sauce just simmered." He
raked Harry with a curious look. "What were you doing?"

"Working," Harry said shortly. He dug into the pasta and found that
Draco made a wonderful marinara sauce.

"I'm not trying to pry state secrets out of you," Draco said, amused.
He took a forkful of his own food. "Mmm. Perhaps it's best that you
arrived when you did. This sauce is just about perfect."

Harry snorted. "Glad to see you're still as vain as ever." He reached
for the bottle of wine to refill his glass, but Draco's hand on his
wrist stopped him.

"We have work to do before you can finish off the bottle." He sipped
his wine carefully. "You're already tired, and I need you to have a
clear head."

Harry nodded curtly and set himself to finishing his pasta. "All
right," he said when he was done. He got up and fetched parchment and
quill from his desk. He pushed his plate out of the way and uncorked
his bottle of ink. "Tell me what you've got." He wrote as Draco
enumerated recent Death Eater doings, making careful notes about who
would have to be dispatched to deal with each event.

Draco stopped speaking for a long moment. "They've performed Imperio on
Danielle Courtnez."

Harry winced.

"Yes," Draco said. "You may want to transfer her." He took a healthy
swallow of wine and reached for the bottle.

"Should you be drinking that much?" Harry asked warily.

Draco shrugged. "That's all I have to tell you." He sipped more
moderately. "And I'm not the one nearly falling asleep over his
parchment."

Harry replaced the parchment and quill. When he came back, Draco was
pouring him another glass of wine. "I'm allowed to have more then?"

Draco smiled faintly. "Just half a glass, and then it's to bed for
you." He dropped the smile and gave Harry his glass back. "You look
done in."

Harry sipped his wine and nodded tiredly. "It's been a long couple of
days."

Draco took Harry's now-empty wineglass from his hand. "I'll put the
food away. You go to bed. You need some rest."

"What about you?" Harry asked.

"I still have work to do." Draco pushed Harry off toward his bedroom.
"I'll come back in a couple of days."

***

"He didn't!"

"He did," Harry confirmed.

Hermione sat back in her chair. "I can't believe Malfoy cooked."

"And cleaned," Harry reminded her. "If you want to come to supper
today, there's still some left over. It's really good."

Ron shuddered. "I'm not eating anything Malfoy cooked, even if you
think it's good. Are you sure it's safe for him to be in your flat? He
could find all kinds of things."

Harry shook his head. "I don't keep anything he can't see there.
Besides," he added wryly, "I don't have anything to do with his visits.
He just appears."

"Is he Apparating directly into your flat?" Hermione asked.

"Probably," Harry conceded. "Either that or he comes in and locks the
door behind him."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "It would take some work, but we could set
up an anti-Apparition spell on your flat if you want."

Harry shook his head. "I don't really mind. It's probably the safest
way for him to report to me anyway."

"And he's easy on the eyes," Hermione said slyly.

Ron nearly choked on his biscuit. "Hermione!"

"Come on," Hermione pressed. "You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Harry flushed lightly.

"I thought so," Hermione said smugly. "Really," she said seriously, "it
wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"I don't need to hear this," Ron muttered.

Hermione shot him a sharp look before continuing. "It would tie him
closer to you."

"And if he's actually spying for You-Know-Who, it'll tie you closer to
him," Ron pointed out.

Hermione positively glared at him. "And he's not bad looking." She
grinned. "*I* wouldn't throw him out of bed."

Harry blushed an even darker red.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You haven't!"

"No, no," Harry rushed to assure her. "Not that. He said he needed a
place to stay and I don't have a guest room."

"And you didn't take advantage of him?"

"*No*," Harry said firmly. "This is strictly a business relationship."

Hermione remained unconvinced. "Do all your business acquaintances make
you dinner?"

"We had business to discuss," Harry said, and hurriedly pulled out his
parchment list. "They have Danielle Courtnez under Imperio."

Ron winced. "Transfer her?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know what else we can do."

"Even that will let them know we know," Hermione said.

"It doesn't have to," Harry said. "We'll just laterally transfer her
somewhere where she can't do too much damage."

Ron chuckled. "Send her to Romania with Charlie. Maybe we'll get lucky
and the dragons will eat her before she can do anything."

Hermione shot him a reproachful look. "Too dangerous. For her and for
us. Charlie knows a lot of secrets."

"Accounting?" Ron suggested.

Harry regarded him thoughtfully. "That might work. We don't care if
they know what kind of budget we have, and the paperwork alone should
keep them too busy to come up with anything else."

***

"You look like hell," Draco greeted him.

"Thank you, Malfoy," Harry said wearily. "I feel like hell."

Draco came across the room and pushed Harry into a chair at the table.
Harry dropped his head down onto his arms on the table as Draco's hands
settled onto his shoulders and worked at the tension in his muscles.

"Long day?" he asked when Harry had relaxed a little.

"We sent Edmund Roush to the dementors today."

Draco's hands stilled. "He always bragged he had a dragon in London."

Harry's head came up and his fist pounded down on the table. "Fuck!" He
pulled himself up, dislodging Draco's hands. "We'll have to go now.
Whatever spells he has on it might not hold." He scribbled on a piece
of parchment and gave it to Hedwig with strict instructions to find
Hermione. "There's a team out there now. Hermione will get some more
people and we'll meet them there."

"We'll have to Apparate."

Harry gave him the coordinates, and they were in the house the next
moment. He outlined the situation to the team.

"Where should we start?" one of them asked.

"Underground," Draco said. "The dungeons. Fireproof and lots of space.
Out of the way too. Easier to hide."

Harry nodded sharply. "You," he said, gesturing to four members of the
team, "come with us. The rest of you keep an eye on things up here.
Send Hermione down when she gets here." He nodded to Draco. "Let's go."
They descended the stairs together, wands out, with the other four
following them.

"He'll have protections," Draco warned.

"We've taken care of a lot of them," one of the wizards behind him
said.

Harry nodded sharply. "Good, but we still need to be careful." The team
had done their job on the stairs, and they encountered no obstacles.
"Which way?" Harry asked when they got to the bottom.

Draco studied the corridor, peering down each direction as far as the
light from their wands would reach. "Left," he finally decided.

Harry shrugged, figuring that either way was as good as the other. He
drew a quick, light-shining rune on the wall as a message to Hermione
and her team and followed Draco down the corridor.

The first few doors they came to led to empty rooms that had probably
once been used as prison cells. Halfway down the corridor they came
upon a door that radiated magic so strongly they could all feel it.

"Suggestions?" Harry asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "Not without knowing what he put on there." He glanced
over at Harry. "Granger would know better than I would."

Harry rubbed his forehead. "And we don't know if we have time to wait."

"No, we don't," Draco agreed. "We'll have to do what we can." He
glanced at the four wizards Harry had commandeered and pulled Harry
away from them a little way. "I know a couple of things he might have
used, but I don't know if they," he flicked his eyes toward the other
four, "know who I am."

Harry nodded. "Do what you can. We'll sort it out later."

Draco grimly got to work, throwing countercurses at the door until the
magic hum coming from it dimmed to the point where only he and Harry
could feel it. "I think that's as good as it's going to get," he
finally said. "Alohomora won't work." He stood back, folding his arms
over his chest, considering the door. "I think our best bet is to just
blast it with magic."

"But you can't do that," one of the other four said.

Draco and Harry exchanged a grim glance. "You can," Harry answered.
"We'll do it. You four go into one of the rooms we found and stay there
until we tell you it's safe." When they were gone, he turned back to
Draco. "Ever done this before?"

"Once. You?"

"No. I know the theory."

Draco reached out and touched Harry's cheek. Harry barely suppressed
his shiver.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded. "Ready. On three. One."

"Two," Draco continued.

"Three," they finished together. "Magia." They could feel the door
resisting, but after they repeated it twice more, the spells on it gave
way before their assault.

"Messy magic," Draco sniffed when a quick check showed the door to be
completely free of magic.

"But effective," Harry added. "It's safe to come back," he called to
the other four. He waited until they rejoined him before opening the
door.

They found themselves on a sizable ledge roughly halfway up the wall of
a large cavern. There was a convenient stack of broomsticks along the
wall beside the door, clearly the only way to move around the room.
Deep in the center of the room lay a dragon, one Harry recognized as a
Hungarian Horntail.

"What do we do now?" one of the four asked.

"There'll be a spell on it," Harry mused.

"And another way out," Draco added.

"Right. So we have to keep it quiet until Hermione can get a team of
Dragon Keepers down here to take care of it." Harry watched the dragon
shift in its sleep. "The spell's probably attached to something."

"And we'll need to make contact, or at least eye contact, to do
anything about it."

"And it's probably keyed to Roush's magical signature." Harry grinned
at Draco suddenly. "Well. I always did go off on adventures." He
grabbed two broomsticks and handed one to Draco. "It looks like there's
a cord of some kind around its neck. That might be it." He glanced back
at the other four. "You're not flyers the way we are. Stay back. Be
ready to use any useful spells you can think of. Davis, go back out
into the hallway so Hermione will know where we are." He turned back to
the cavern. "We'll probably have to counterspell it and respell it."

"Yes." Draco smiled grimly at Harry. "Don't worry about me. I can still
fly."

"Good. You run interference. I'll work the magic." He glanced back at
the three wizards still in the room. "If you can make things appear
away from yourselves and away from us, do it. Otherwise stay out of the
way." He mounted his broom and waited for Draco to do the same. "Here
we go."

They dove down into the cavern, and Harry allowed himself a moment to
feel the pure joy of flying with Draco again. Then he pushed it down
and concentrated on the job at hand. He flew down under the dragon's
head and hovered at its neck.

"I think I've got it," he called up to Draco. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Harry focused on the horseshoe hanging from a thick leather cord. He
reached out to touch it, but stopped when he felt the energy reaching
out from it. He thought for a moment, but decided that since they'd
come this far, they might as well finish it now. He pointed his wand at
the horseshoe and said, "Magia." Sparks flew from the horseshoe as the
spell it held shattered.

The dragon awoke and reared up, roaring at Draco and Harry. They dove
in opposite directions to avoid the dragon's claws and fire. While
Draco and the three wizards they'd commandeered tried to hold the
dragon's attention, Harry swooped around the dragon's head, trying to
get close enough to the horseshoe to cast a new spell.

"Stupefy," he said when he got close enough. The dragon stumbled for a
moment, but didn't return to sleep. Harry swore. "Malfoy!"

"What?" Draco called back.

"I need your help."

Draco could swear much more creatively than Harry. "I'm a little busy,"
he called back. "These three won't be able to hold this."

Harry swore again. "Well I can't do this on my own."

"Malfoy," a new voice shouted, "you help Harry." Hermione and her team
grabbed broomsticks. "We'll distract it."

"Never thought I'd be glad to see you, Granger," Draco called as he
swooped under the dragon's breath of fire and down to where Harry was.
"What are we doing?" he asked as he rolled to avoid being batted out of
the air. He flashed Harry a grin when he righted himself again, and
Harry found himself grinning back.

"Simple Stupefy," Harry answered. "The horseshoe should hold it for
long enough for the Dragon Keepers to get here." He moved in to hover
in line with the horseshoe and waited for Draco to join him.

"On three?"

"On three. One. Two. Three."

"Stupefy," they said together. This time the spell caught and held. The
dragon slumped back into slumber. Harry and Draco separated and came
out from under either side of the dragon's head.

Draco was grinning at him again, and Harry grinned back and did a quick
loop in celebration. He landed easily beside Draco on the ledge.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, bouncing a little on his heels.

"You should've waited for me," she said disapprovingly.

Harry gave her a quick smile and threw a glance at Draco beside him.
"We didn't know if we had time."

"You worried me."

Harry wrapped an arm around her and hugged her. "I'm sorry. We had to
do it."

Hermione let it go, but Harry knew this would come up in tomorrow's
morning meeting. "There's a team of Dragon Keepers on their way. They
should be here soon."

Harry glanced at Draco, who was fairly vibrating beside him, and raked
his hand through his hair. "Can you handle it without me?"

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "What if the spell wears off?"

Harry edged toward Draco. "It's in a horseshoe. It should keep for a
couple of hours." He kept his eyes on Hermione even though his skin
tingled with his awareness of Draco at his side.

"We need your report."

"I'll write one up first thing tomorrow morning, I promise. Please,
Hermione. Let us go."

Hermione sighed heavily. "All right. Go. But I want that report by
ten," she warned.

"You'll have it." Harry nodded at Draco, not letting himself meet his
eyes. "Let's go."

They retreated to the empty corridor before Disapparating. Harry was
relieved to see that Draco had returned to his flat with him instead of
disappearing off to his own life.

Even from across the kitchen, Harry could tell that Draco was still on
edge as much as he was, so he wasn't completely surprised when Draco
stalked toward him.

"I want you," Draco growled as he tangled his hands in Harry's hair.
His mouth came down hard on Harry's. Harry groaned and kissed him back
for an endless moment.

"It's just battle lust," he gasped out, tearing his mouth away from
Draco's.

"We've been fighting for years," Draco reminded him. But it was Draco's
thigh between his rather than Draco's words that convinced Harry.

"Tell me," Draco said when he was stroking Harry's hair afterwards.
"How do you like fighting evil?"

All the tension that had drained out of Harry came back with a
vengeance. "It's my job."

"Your job?" Draco looked down at Harry in astonishment, still stroking
his hair. "A noble Gryffindor passing off fighting evil as just a job.
Will wonders never cease?"

Harry turned away from him. "Get off."

Draco smirked. "I thought that was what we just did." He pressed a kiss
to the nape of Harry's neck. "What are you going to do when the war
ends?"

"I don't think that far ahead."

Draco's hands stilled. "Do you think you'll die?"

Harry shrugged. "Yes. Or the war will never end. Either way, I don't
get a choice."

"What would you have done? If the Dark Lord hadn't come back?"

Harry shrugged again. "Dunno." He relaxed enough to let Draco spoon up
behind him. "I could've played for England."

"Is that what you wanted to do?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry turned over to look at him. "You were a Seeker. You were there
flying with me tonight."

Draco brushed Harry's unruly locks away from his forehead. "I'm not a
flyer like you are." He kissed Harry softly. "Tell me."

Harry sighed. "It wasn't just Snape, you know. Everyone thought I
should already know everything." Draco's touch kept him anchored to the
present. "I didn't know anything. I didn't even know I was a wizard
until a month before school started. But then you stole Neville's
Remembrall." Harry was silent for a while, remembering. He brought
himself out of his reverie with a little shake. "Flying was the one
thing I didn't have to work at. I was just good at it."

Draco stroked a hand down Harry's side. "And now everyone expects you
to be good at fighting evil," he murmured sympathetically. He moved
forward and kissed Harry gently but insistently.

Harry returned his kiss and this time their lovemaking was slower and
softer, comfort instead of release. It left Harry too tired to do
anything other than follow Draco's command to sleep.

After that, Harry got used to Draco appearing in his bedroom. Sometimes
he'd wake Harry up and they'd have sex, and sometimes he'd show up,
sleep at Harry's side for a few hours, and disappear again. It made
Harry feel a bit like a way station, but at the same time, he liked the
feel of Draco in his bed.

***

"Tell me something about your childhood," Draco asked drowsily on a
night when he'd woken Harry up.

Harry eyed his barely visible form warily. "Why?"

Draco kissed his temple "Why not?" Harry didn't answer. "I'm not going
to use it against you. I just want to know."

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "When I was about eight
years old, my cousin and his friends were chasing me around the school,
and I just wanted to get away. One minute I was on the ground, and the
next I was on the roof of the school kitchens." Harry brushed his
fingers up the inside of Draco's elbow. "Hermione thinks I must have
Apparated."

Draco made a surprised sound in the back of his throat. "You are a
powerful wizard." He nuzzled Harry's neck. "I've never heard of anyone
else who could Apparate at age eight."

Harry shrugged against Draco. "I don't think it's Apparating if you
don't really decide where you're going."

"You directed yourself to another place using magic," Draco said, still
nuzzling at Harry.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe," he said. "I don't really know
what happened."

"You're powerful," Draco murmured.

"That's what people tell me."

"I've been around powerful wizards all my life," Draco said in a voice
so low and intimate it made Harry shiver. "Not one of them was even
half as powerful as you."

Harry reached back and stroked Draco's hip. "Let me sleep," he said. "I
have to work in the morning."

"Mmm." Draco pressed a kiss into his hair. "I like your power," he
said.

Harry stirred restlessly against him, but Draco stopped talking and
soothed him back into relaxation.

***

Hermione ushered the last person out and turned on Harry with a sharp
gleam in her eyes. "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. He busied himself brewing a fresh pot of
tea.

Harry tried in vain to control his blush. "What makes you think that?"

"You are," Hermione crowed. She leaned forward. "What's he like?"

"Hermione, you know him."

"Not like you do," she shot back. "I'm glad," she said seriously. "It's
doing you good. You look better and you've gained a little weight." She
grinned. "He must be feeding you."

"Sometimes." Harry didn't tell her that more often than not, it was he
and not Draco who went out for the takeaway they so often ate. He
didn't tell her, either, that Draco had taught him to enjoy cooking, or
to enjoy, at least, cooking a few simple dishes.

"Come on," Hermione wheedled. "What's it like to be Draco Malfoy's
lover?"

"Don't you have your own love life to worry about?"

Hermione shot a reproachful glance at Ron. "*My* love life seems to be
on hold at the moment."

Ron ignored her. "What does Malfoy say about our plan?" he asked Harry.

"He's supposed to meet his father in London for dinner two weeks from
Thursday. We'll need to arrange it so that the only other people in the
place are Aurors."

Hermione drew a scroll out of some pocket in her robes and borrowed a
quill from Harry's desk. "Where are they meeting?"

"The Green Wand."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "That's so pretentious."

Ron snorted. "It's the Malfoys. Of course it's pretentious."

Harry yanked the conversation back on topic. "Are there any known
alliances between the Green Wand and Voldemort or his followers?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not really. They sympathize only because so much of
their income comes from Death Eater families. If we pay them enough,
though, we can seed the place with Aurors for an evening."

Harry nodded grimly. "Do it."

***

"And will you gentlemen be wanting any dessert?" the waiter asked them.

Lucius took the menu from him and began to peruse it.

Draco took it from his hands and handed it back to the waiter. "We
won't be having dessert."

Lucius took the menu back. "Draco," he said disapprovingly, "I would
like some dessert."

"I'm afraid there isn't time for that," Ron said from behind him. "Mr.
Malfoy, if you'd please come with us." It was not a request.

Lucius turned to find Ron, Hermione, and Harry behind him. "I'll do no
such thing," he said, reaching for his wand.

"Accio wand," Hermione murmured, bringing Lucius' wand to her hand.
"Please, Mr. Malfoy. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."
She tipped her chin to indicate the rest of the room. "The place is
filled with Aurors."

Lucius calmly allowed them to clap the magical manacles on his wrists.
"There are others who will continue to fight you," he said, his head
held high.

Draco moved to stand next to Harry. "But not as many as you think,
Father."

Lucius' eyes widened in shock. "You?" Then he realized what was going
on and grew angry. "You were behind this," he said flatly.

Draco met his father's eyes squarely. "Yes." He smiled tightly. "Mother
won't be able to go to Azkaban for you this time."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "That's why you did this." It wasn't a question.

"No," Draco said grimly. "I did this because my father taught me that
Malfoys are masters, not servants. I will not bow down to your Dark
Lord."

For the first time in his life, Draco saw his father speechless.

Hermione and Ron, accompanied by some of the other Aurors, led Lucius
away. Harry turned to Draco.

"Do you want to come home with me?"

"Yes." Draco blinked and seemed to actually see Harry. "There's an
alleyway out back. We can Disapparate from there."

Harry followed Draco through the restaurant and out into the alley.
They Disapparated and reappeared in Harry's living room.

"Do you want?" Harry asked, not knowing how to finish the question.

"Yes," Draco answered, reaching for him.

Harry responded to his kisses. He undressed Draco as they moved down
the hall and entered him slowly when they made it to the bed.

***

Hermione was polite as she said good-bye to the last of their
coworkers, but it was obvious that she was just itching for them to go.
As soon as they were gone, she let the smile burst across her face.

"Look!" She held out her left hand to Harry while Ron boiled water for
more tea. Harry took her hand to examine the small diamond on a gold
band on her finger.

"We're engaged!"

Harry glanced at Ron whose skin was turning a shade of red that did not
compliment his hair. He grinned at both of them.

"Congratulations!" Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione in a tight
hug. He beamed at Ron who had finally put the kettle down.
"Congratulations!" he said again.

Ron came forward for a quick hug. "I had to ask her before someone else
did," he muttered.

Harry grinned at him. "It's about time."

Ron blushed and muttered something else about girlfriends and dropped
hints. He briefly tangled his fingers with Hermione's before he poured
tea for the three of them.

Hermione gestured Ron and Harry into chairs and offered them biscuits
from the tin she didn't share with anyone else.

"How's Malfoy?" she asked Harry.

The biscuit soured in his mouth. "Dunno. I haven't really seen him."

Hermione gave him a sharp look.

Harry shrugged. "Really. I think he was there one night, but he didn't
wake me up."

"Hmm. Well, the Ministry is always here for him," Hermione said primly.

"I'll be sure to pass that along," Harry said dryly. "As soon as I see
him again," he said more sadly.

Hermione patted his knee. "I'm sure he'll be back." She pulled out a
piece of parchment. "When he does come back, would you give him this?"
She handed the parchment to Harry. "It's a standard agreement to
testify. We won't prosecute him for anything he admits to while
testifying against his father."

Harry glanced over the scroll before rerolling it and tucking it into
his robes. "I'll give it to him next time he shows up," he promised.

"He'll be back," Hermione said again. She smiled serenely at him and
touched the ring on her finger.

***

Hermione was right, as usual. Draco did show up again, and instead of
the sense he'd gotten once or twice more that Draco had been and gone
while he slept, Harry woke up in the middle of the night to find Draco
sitting on the edge of his bed.

"There's a scroll." Harry groped on the night table for it. "From
Hermione." His fingers closed over the roll of parchment. He handed it
to Draco. "She says the Ministry is here for you."

"How nice of her." Draco sounded distracted as he glanced over the
scroll.

Harry watched him blearily. Without his glasses, Draco appeared to
Harry as just a pale blur in the darkness.

"I missed you."

"Mmm." Harry couldn't tell if that was agreement or commentary, but
Draco bent down and kissed him.

He curved his hand around the back of Draco's head and held him there
for a second kiss when Draco would have pulled away. He rested one hand
on Draco's thigh. "Come t' bed."

Draco brushed his cheek with the fingers of one hand. "All right." He
slowly pulled away from Harry and stood up. There was a rustling as he
took off his clothes, and then he was sliding, naked and warm, between
the sheets and into Harry's arms.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry murmured.

Draco kissed him again. Harry found that reassuring enough to relax.

When he woke up in the morning the bed was cold and both Draco and the
scroll were gone.

***

"Wake up." Lips brushed against Harry's ear. "Come on, Harry."

He blinked into the darkness. "Can't you ever come to visit during the
day?"

Draco laughed softly. "I like you like this." He bent over Harry and
kissed him deeply.

Harry reached up to wrap his arms around Draco. "You might like me in
the daytime too." He pulled Draco down to settle on top of him.

Draco slid a hand between them and down Harry's body. "I might."

Harry kissed him wetly. "You would." There was something nagging at
him, but he let things progress until Draco was mostly naked. "Wait,"
he said.

Draco stroked his face. "What?"

"What you said." Harry groped for it. "About your mother."

Draco's hands stilled. "My mother." His voice was flat.

It was clear to Harry now. "You said she went to Azkaban for your
father."

"Did I?" The stillness of his body belied his calm.

"Yes, you did." Harry brushed Draco's cheek. "Did she kill Joshua
Davis?"

"No. My father killed him." Draco pushed Harry back down as he
struggled to sit up.

"If she didn't do it--"

Draco interrupted. "She did enough." He slid his hands firmly across
Harry's face and pushed his hair back. "She killed other people. A lot
of other people. If you let her out, my father will find a way to get
instructions to her and she'll go on carrying out his dirty work."

"How do I know you're not carrying out his dirty work for him?"

Draco's hands gentled in Harry's hair. "The door wouldn't let me into
your office if I were."

"You've only been to my office once."

"Then you'll just have to trust me." Draco bent down and kissed Harry.
"Justice is being served." He kissed Harry again, gentler. "It is," he
said earnestly. "Trust me."

Harry let Draco kiss and stroke him into silence.

***

"Lucius Malfoy, you have been brought here before the Council of
Magical Law so that we may pass judgement on you. You stand accused of
practicing the Dark Arts in aid of Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as
Lord Voldemort." Minister Neal looked down on Lucius. "Do you have
anything to say for yourself?"

Lucius remained stubbornly silent, but his eyes roamed the room. They
stopped and fixed on one person seated high in a corner.

Harry fought down his impulse to grip Draco's hand, knowing that would
only make things worse, and shifted slightly closer to him instead.
Draco shifted back, too slowly to be noticed, until their thighs were
pressed together.

"The jury will now vote," Neal intoned. "All those who believe Lucius
Malfoy deserves a life sentence in Azkaban, please raise your hands."
The jurors, every last one, raised their hands.

Neal nodded to the dementors who took Lucius back through the door in
the corner. As soon as he was gone, there was a rustle of movement and
conversation before Neal called the next case. Harry reached out and
took Draco's hand.

Draco looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Harry's face.
"Your place," he said.

Harry nodded and let go of his hand. He waited for Draco to Disapparate
before he followed. When he Apparated into his flat, Draco was already
halfway down the hall. Harry followed, watching Draco pull off his
robes as he went. Harry picked them up and dropped them in a heap on
the chair just inside his bedroom door. He added his own robes to the
pile and crawled into bed with Draco.

Draco turned into Harry's arms and pressed his face into Harry's neck.
Harry could feel him shaking. He couldn't find any words to say, and so
he just held Draco as tight as he could.

***

"We're here," Harry called as he opened the door.

With Lucius safely imprisoned in Azkaban, Harry had been able to coax
Ron and Hermione to his apartment for lunch with Draco.

Draco came out of the kitchen with a smile. "Hello. Let me take your
cloaks." He hung their cloaks in the closet and invited them in to sit
at the table. "Would you like a drink? We have beer, wine, and pumpkin
juice."

"I'll have pumpkin juice, please," Hermione said.

"Beer for me," said Ron.

"Harry?"

Harry smiled up at him. "Whatever you're having."

"Beer it is, then." Draco went into the kitchen and came back a few
minutes later with their drinks. "Sure you don't want a beer too,
Hermione?"

"No, thank you," she said, but she stole a sip of Ron's when he set it
down.

Draco flashed her a grin. He murmured an incantation and, with an
accompanying flick of his wand, brought their food floating in from the
kitchen.

Harry watched Draco watch Ron and Hermione as they took their first
bites.

"This is really good." Ron couldn't quite hide his surprise.

Hermione threw him a disapproving glance. "It's excellent," she said to
Draco.

"Thank you," Draco said with a slight smirk. Harry caught his eye, and
his smile became a little more genuine.

"How was the Cannons game?" Harry asked after a few bites.

Ron brightened. "It was brilliant!" His face drooped a little. "They
lost, but it was still a good match," he said philosophically.

"Of course they lost," Draco said disparagingly. "They lose to the
*Harpies*."

"The Harpies," Hermione said quellingly, "are a perfectly respectable
team."

"They used to be," Draco said, "before Wilhelmina Whisp retired. They
haven't had a decent coach since."

"I suppose you like the Falcons," Ron said disparagingly.

Draco sniffed. "Of course not. The Magpies."

"The Magpies?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Of course." Draco looked steadily at Harry. "They're an excellent
team."

"They're all flash," Ron objected.

"Nonsense," Draco said. "They play an excellent game of Quidditch. They
have the most cohesive group of Chasers of any team in the League, if
not the world."

"The Cannons have good Chasers," Ron protested.

"The Cannons' Chasers have never passed a Quaffle in their life," Draco
said over the rim of his beer mug.

Ron was now a rather violent shade of red. "They have so!" he said
hotly.

Harry shot Draco a warning glance--Hermione was giving Ron a similar
look--and watched Draco swallow back his comment.

"And you, Harry?" Draco asked. "What's your team?"

"Puddlemere United," he said.

"Honestly," said Hermione. "Just because Oliver plays for them."

"He's a very good Keeper," Harry argued.

"He's very good-looking," Hermione countered.

"They're a good team," Harry said doggedly.

"Bit flashy," Ron said around a mouthful of his meat pie.

"The ability to win," Draco said, "does not automatically make a team
'flashy'."

"Never said it did," Ron said.

Draco's eyebrows went up. "That seems to be your main criteria. I'm
sure you don't think your Cannons are 'flashy'."

"'Course not."

"There you go," Draco said smugly.

Ron scowled at him. "The Cannons can win!"

"The Cannons," Hermione pointed out gently, "haven't won since '97."

Ron bristled. "Arnold Turner caught the Snitch just last month."

"They were behind by nearly three hundred points!"

"They aren't doing very well these days, Ron," Harry said.

Ron sniffed. "They're just waiting for the right time to make their
comeback." He hastily changed the subject. "Have you read what
Quidditch Weekly has to say about Augustus Forbes?"

Harry didn't recognize the name. "Who?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said. "I'd have thought you'd at least read
the Quidditch page of the Prophet."

Harry shook his head. "I don't get much time to read the Prophet."

"Augustus Forbes is the Catapults' new Seeker," Draco explained. "He's
very good if," he shot a glance at Ron, "a bit flashy. But that's only
to be expected in a Seeker."

Ron leaned forward eagerly. "Have you seen him play?"

Draco nodded. "I saw him when I was on holiday in France last summer.
Reims and Lyon."

Ron's eyes widened. "That was the match where he sent Pierre Duval into
the ground on a Wronski Feint."

Draco grinned. "Yes, it was. A perfect Wronski. His twigs scored the
grass on the pitch." He glanced sideways at Harry. "I've never seen
anyone pull it off quite so brilliantly."

Ron was suitably impressed. "Brilliant. I can't wait to see him play.
We've got tickets to the Cannons-Catapults match next week."

Draco's eyes gleamed. "The Catapults are going to smash the Cannons."

"They are not!"

Draco smirked at Ron. "I'll bet you they will."

"Stakes?"

"A Galleon."

Ron stuck his hand out across the table. "You're on."

Draco shook it firmly. "Done." He shot a look at Hermione. "I almost
hate to take your money."

Hermione made a faint disapproving sound. "It's his own fault if he
takes a bet like that." She took on a superior look. "This is why they
work for me."

"We wouldn't want your job anyway," Ron said. "Too much work."

Harry put down his fork and leaned back. "Way too much work." 

Draco met his eyes. "You do a lot of work."

Something in Draco's look stopped any comment Harry might have made.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron jerk and glare at Hermione.

"There's chocolate cake." It was Draco who broke the mood.

"You bake too?" Hermione flashed a quick grin at Harry. "Hang on to
him."

"I don't bake," Draco said. "I'm on good terms with the head pastry
chef at Le Croissant Lévitant." He gathered up the plates and carried
them into the kitchen by hand.

"That's just as good," Hermione said loudly enough to be heard in the
kitchen. "Really," she said to Harry, "he's worth keeping."

Harry glanced toward the kitchen. "I wasn't planning on getting rid of
him," he said.

"I didn't think you were," Hermione said mildly. She looked up at Draco
as he set a plate before her. "Thank you."

"Pierre's best," Draco told her. Ron got the second plate, and Draco
went back to the kitchen for cake for himself and Harry.

Hermione's eyes widened when she took her first bite. "Le Croissant
Lévitant, you said?" she asked when she'd recovered from it.

Draco grinned outright. "Ask for Pierre. Tell him I sent you, and he'll
make sure you get the best."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I will." She dug into her cake, and Ron
and Harry exchanged smiles over her head.

"Lunch was lovely," Hermione said when they were finished with the
cake, "but I'm afraid we have to get back to work. The Ministry frowns
upon long lunches."

Draco whisked their dessert plates into the kitchen. "You'll have to
come for lunch again."

"Of course we will. Thank you for lunch." Hermione shook hands with
Draco.

"You're welcome."

Ron, too, shook Draco's hand, although with a smile a bit less broad
than Hermione's. He took their cloaks and held Hermione's for her
before shrugging on his own.

"Thank you," Harry said softly as he pulled on his cloak.

"You're welcome." Draco put his hand on Harry's cheek and they shared
an awkward kiss while Ron and Hermione discreetly looked away.

***

The flat was empty when he got home. Harry took his still unread
Quidditch Weekly and flopped down into his most comfortable chair--the
one with the light and dark brown stripes that was just the right shape
to cradle his body--to relax for a while before supper.

He was halfway through the profile of Augustus Forbes when Draco showed
up. Harry didn't hear him arrive, of course, but one moment he was
alone and the next there were hands in his hair and Draco was asking
about dinner.

Harry tipped his head back to look at Draco. "There're leftovers," he
said. "I had people over for lunch."

Draco looked amused. "Did you now." He leaned over the back of the
chair and shared an upside down kiss with Harry.

"I did." Harry let the magazine fall to the ground and tugged at Draco.
"It was nice," he said. He managed to pull Draco around the chair and
down to sprawl half across his lap. He pushed his hands into Draco's
hair and kissed him deeply.

"Oliver Wood," Draco said after a couple of soft, wet kisses. His
eyebrows went up, making it a question.

"He's a very good Keeper," Harry said and loosened his grip on Draco.

"He's very good-looking," Draco said. He shifted a little on Harry's
lap, making his position a little less precarious.

"I'm not," Harry said and paused, searching for the right word, "with
anyone else."

"I didn't ask," Draco said. He stood up. "What did you do with the
leftovers?"

Harry stood up too and pushed Draco down into the chair. "I'll get it."

Draco started to stand. "I can--"

"No." Harry pushed Draco back down. "You cooked. I'll get it." He went
to the kitchen and left Draco to relax in his favorite chair and flip
through his copy of Quidditch Weekly.

They sat across from each other at the table and ate their reheated
meat pies in silence. Harry took their plates to the sink when they
were done.

Draco put his arms around Harry and brushed his lips over his neck.
"The plates can take care of themselves. Come to bed." He worked his
fingers under the edge of Harry's shirt. "Come on," he said. "Come to
bed."

Harry turned in Draco's arms and let himself be kissed and coaxed down
the hall to his bedroom.

Draco was still in his bed, sleeping, when he left early the next
morning. Harry looked down at him for a long moment before he left.

He came home, again, to an empty apartment. There was a note from Draco
on his counter: "Your friends have terrible taste in Quidditch teams."
With it were four tickets to next month's match between the Magpies and
Puddlemere United.

***

Draco was there when Harry came into the kitchen the next morning,
wearing Harry's dressing gown, which explained why he couldn't find it
when he'd woken up to a warm but empty bed. Draco chuckled as Harry
finished buttoning up his robes.

"What?" Harry poured himself a glass of juice. When Draco didn't
answer, Harry eyed him suspiciously and asked, "What's so funny?"

"This. You, me, us." Draco waved a hand to indicate the two of them.
"It's so domestic. Having friends from the office over for lunch.
Breakfasting together."

Harry looked pointedly at Draco where he stood frying bacon in nothing
but Harry's dressing gown. "I suppose that makes you my wife."

"Sod off."

"You're the one who brought it up." Harry grabbed a slice of toast and
opened the Daily Prophet.

"Wanker."

Harry smirked. "Not anymore. That's what I've got you for."

Draco laughed and handed him a plate of bacon and eggs. "Eat your
breakfast." While Harry busied himself with his food, Draco deftly
stole the Daily Prophet from him.

"Give that back," Harry protested.

"Eat your breakfast," Draco said again.

Harry reached across the table and took the paper back. He opened it in
the middle and handed half the pages to Draco, keeping both the front
page and the Quidditch scores for himself.

"The Society section?"

Harry looked at him innocently. "Isn't that what wives read?"

"Prat. Give me something else."

"All right, all right." Harry separated out another few pages and
passed them across the table. "Better?"

"Mmm. Much." Draco dropped the conversation in favor of scrutinizing
the financial pages.

Harry dumped his dishes in the sink when he was done. He disappeared
into his bedroom and then came back out to the living room in search of
where he'd left his cloak the night before.

"If you'd just hang it in the closet like a normal person, you wouldn't
have to go through this every morning." Draco draped Harry's cloak
around his shoulders.

"But then what would you do?" Harry glanced at the clock and swore.
"I'm going to be late." He grabbed his broomstick.

"Don't I get a good-bye kiss?" Draco fluttered his eyelashes.

"I don't have time."

Draco mock-pouted. "Is that any way to talk to your wife?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Harry pushed Draco back against a counter and
kissed him. It seemed to go on forever as Harry deepened the kiss and
pressed his body against Draco's.

Draco recovered enough to say, "Have a nice day at the office, dear,"
in a rather shaky voice as Harry swept through the door.

***

After the first lunch, Draco would appear, once a week or so, outside
the Ministry just at lunch time, and the four of them would adjourn to
their favorite pub or to some little place Draco knew of for lunch and
discussion, mostly about Quidditch.

It was during an afternoon meeting after one such outing that Hermione
asked Harry, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Draco," she said calmly. "You're in love with him."

"In-- With-- What makes you think that?"

"You look at him the way my parents look at each other."

If Ron had any thoughts on the matter, he kept his own counsel. Harry
quickly changed the subject, but Hermione's words stayed with him.

"Hermione thinks I'm in love with you," he told Draco that night
between kisses.

"Are you?" Draco asked, stilling his own movements.

Harry considered for a moment. "I don't know." He looked down into
Draco's face. "Are you in love with me?"

Draco laughed, a soft, slow sound, free of its usual malice, and pulled
Harry's mouth down to his.

***

Harry shook Draco gently. "Wake up."

"Mmm." Draco half-opened his eyes. "No."

Harry smiled down at him. "It's time to get up."

Draco pulled Harry down and kissed him slowly. "No."

Harry laughed and tried to tug him up. "Come on. It's time to get up
for work."

Draco touched his cheek. "I'm staying home today." He stroked across
Harry's lips. "Stay with me."

Harry shook his head and turned away to get out of the bed. "I have
work to do."

Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around Harry. "Take a day off."

Harry laughed. "What would I do all day?"

Draco pressed open-mouthed kisses along Harry's spine. "You could stay
in bed with me."

"Draco--"

Draco moved back up and pressed his face against the back of Harry's
neck. "Stay." His hands roamed over Harry's chest. "You can take a day
off."

Harry turned and kissed Draco lightly. "Okay." He pulled himself up.
"Let me send Hedwig in to the office." He left Draco and went out into
the living room to write two quick notes, one to be his official excuse
and the other a personal note to Hermione. He let Hedwig out and
grabbed two glasses of juice on his way back to the bedroom.

"Here," he said, handing one glass to Draco. "If we're going to stay in
bed all day, we'll need some sort of sustenance."

Draco downed his juice and pulled Harry back into bed. "You'll need
more than that," he muttered, "but I'm not letting you out for a
while."

Harry grinned, happy to be caught. "I'll just have to make do." He
tossed back the end of his juice and dropped the glass onto the floor.
Draco wrapped his arms around him again, resuming his task of tracing
Harry's spine with his mouth.

Harry shivered a little at the contact. "Hermione was right," he said.

Draco made a questioning noise against his skin.

"I am in love with you."

***

Harry's kitchen was in disarray when he got home. His dishes were lying
in stacks on the counters. Half of the cupboards were open and empty.
There were at least three full trash bags in the middle of the room and
another open one was half full. He could see a stack of boxes in the
living room.

"I hope you weren't too attached to that Pot Noodle," Draco told him.
"I threw it all out."

Harry wasn't, but he asked, "Why'd you do that?" anyway.

"Because I'm not eating that rubbish and you aren't either." Draco
reached up into the back of a cupboard and pulled down a dusty box of
biscuits. He made a face at it and threw it into the open garbage bag.
"Can we put an enlarging charm on the closet in the bedroom or do we
have to clear it with your landlady?" he asked as he finished pulling
things out of the cupboard.

"Er, I think we need to ask her first." Harry leaned one hip against
the counter and watched Draco sit on the floor to start on the lower
cupboards. "Why?"

Draco looked up at him. "Because it's an abysmally small closet. It
won't hold even half my clothes, and you need some new robes." He
continued to pull things out of Harry's cupboards, sorting them into
piles that had no meaning for Harry. "If I'm going to live here, there
has to be room for my clothes. I'll have to keep the estate, of course,
and there's lots of room there, but I can't be going back and forth
every time I need a change of robes."

"You're going to be living here?" Harry asked somewhat dazedly.

"Of course. You've got an excellent location here. You'd hate the
estate even if I wanted us to live there."

"You don't have a place in London?" Harry asked, realizing that he'd
never before wondered where Draco lived.

"No. I had my own little cottage on the estate. I used to Apparate in
every day." Draco added another pan to one of the stacks around him.
"I'd much rather stay here."

"Permanently?"

"Yes." Draco frowned at something unidentifiable he'd pulled out of the
cupboard and, after some contemplation, tossed it in a trash bag.

Harry crossed the kitchen and knelt next to Draco. He turned Draco's
face to his and kissed him slowly. "I love you."

Draco stroked his cheek and smiled before he turned back to his
cleaning.

--End--