* * *
When Christmas morning dawned, Harry found himself wedged between Fred and George on the sofa, watching with poorly concealed amusement as Draco bewilderedly unwrapped a lumpy looking package that could only be a Weasley sweater.
“I think the world went topsy-turvy when we weren’t looking,” Fred said to George over Harry’s head.
George nodded. “Never thought I’d see Malfoy in one of those.”
“No offense,” Fred added quickly, which Harry took to mean that someone had told them about whatever the hell it was that was going on between him and Draco. He glowered briefly in Ron’s direction, and then sighed.
“None taken,” he said. “I never thought I’d see it either.”
Draco was staring down at the knitted garment in his hands, looking an odd mixture of touched and slightly horrified that he’d actually have to wear the thing. It was a deep navy blue, which Harry thought would suit him but also seemed like a weird color choice until Mrs. Weasley spoke up.
“I was going to make you one in green,” she said. “For Slytherin, of course. But that’s the color I’ve always made for Harry, and I didn’t think you two would appreciate matching.”
George elbowed Harry in the side, leaning down to whisper, “Oh, I don’t think you two would mind all that much.” And seriously, Harry was going to kill Ron. He supposed this was some sort of payback for Draco outing Ron and Hermione to the twins, but why did he have to get caught up in the middle of it? He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, and Fred and George snickered.
“It’s lovely,” Draco said, smoothing the jumper out and showing off the silver-threaded capital D. “You really didn’t have to make me one, but thank you.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at him. “It’s Christmas, and you looked like you could use something warm to wear, anyway.” She kept smiling at him until Draco caved and tugged the sweater on over his head, which promptly made his hair stick up everywhere.
“It is warm,” Draco said, and when he looked up this time there was a small smile on his face. “Thanks again, Mrs. Weasley.”
“That’s a nice color on you, Draco,” Hermione said, from where she was curled up in one of the large armchairs with Ron.
“Every color is nice on me, Hermione,” Draco said loftily. Hermione just rolled her eyes in response.
Fred and George got up to hand out their own presents, and Ginny took the opportunity to slide onto the couch beside Harry.
“I need to talk to you,” she said softly. Harry could only blink at her for a moment, because this was the first time she’d spoken to him since the incident a couple days ago.
“Now?” he asked, and then could have hexed himself as a pinched look came over Ginny’s face. “I mean – now is fine, of course,” he amended quickly. “What is it?”
Ginny took a steadying breath, looking away from Harry to watch what Fred and George were doing instead. “I wanted to apologize,” she said.
“Oh…” Harry shifted uncomfortably. “No, Ginny, it’s not your fault–”
“Just let me talk,” Ginny said brusquely. “I know I might have seemed – silly. Like I was chasing after a schoolgirl’s dream. But I think maybe it’s finally sunk in that the dream is over and we’re not going to get back together.” Harry started to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Am I wrong?”
“…No,” Harry admitted awkwardly.
Ginny nodded once. “Then don’t interrupt.” She turned toward him, searching his face for a moment. “…I really did like you, Harry.”
“I liked you, too,” Harry said, but Ginny shook her head.
“Maybe you did. But you also broke up with me.” She tucked some hair behind her ear, lowering her eyes. “I kept hoping it would only be temporary. I thought if I kept showing you I was interested – that I wanted to be with you…” She gave a humorless little laugh. “Maybe it was naïve, but I thought I just had to keep you from forgetting about me.”
Unintentionally, Harry caught Draco’s eye across the room. Draco was frowning at him, but he quickly looked away and started talking to George – who seemed somewhat startled to suddenly be sucked into a conversation with him – when he noticed Harry had caught him staring.
Harry blew upward at his fringe and rubbed the back of his neck. “I could never forget about you,” he said, and when Ginny kept her gaze pinned to the couch cushion between them, Harry reached out to run his fingers lightly through her hair. “Look at you,” he said. “You’re beautiful. You’re funny. You’re smart and you’re strong. Any bloke would be lucky to have you. I was lucky.”
“Damn straight you were,” Ginny said, a light smirk on her lips when she raised her head. Then she sighed. “I guess I’m just not sure where we went wrong. I don’t understand what happened.”
“It’s…” Harry chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “You were something of a fantasy to me, I think,” he finally settled on saying. “Everything I thought I needed. I had a great time with you,” he said hastily, lest Ginny thought otherwise. “Never doubt that. When I said we should break up this year, I was expecting it to be a temporary thing. I imagined us growing old together, you know. Having kids and a house – all of it. And I think that was the problem. I got a bit blinded by all my dreams.”
Harry let his eyes roam around the room, his gaze lingering briefly on the Christmas tree and its twinkling lights before bouncing to each different family member, soaking up the warmth and comfort they always managed to exude when they were together, even in the middle of a war. “This is what I’ve always wanted,” he said softly. “What I never had growing up. I think, somehow, that I thought I could have it permanently if I was with you.”
Ginny was silent for awhile, watching him, and then she huffed. “You’re such a daft git, Harry Potter,” she said. Harry gaped at her, but she plowed on, “As if you would ever not be welcome in this family. You don’t need me for that.”
“Well – maybe not,” Harry said, his eyes wide and startled at her reaction. “But it’s what I thought I wanted.”
“But you thought wrong.”
“I – I suppose so.”
“You don’t want me,” Ginny said, and it wasn’t a question.
Harry shook his head anyway. “Not as such,” he said hesitantly. “You’re more like a sister to me – you’re like Hermione, actually.” He blinked, surprised at the truth of the statement. “…At least, that’s how I feel now. I’m not really sure when it changed.”
“You should have just said.”
“I didn’t know!” Harry exclaimed. He shot a quick look around the room, but luckily no one seemed to be paying any attention to his outburst. Except maybe for Draco, who was still watching them out of the corner of his eye like he really thought Harry wasn’t going to notice. “Like I said, I liked being with you. But it was almost – I don’t know.” He let out a frustrated breath. “There was a part of me that always kept you at arm’s length, I think. It’s like I was afraid to get too close. And everything with Voldemort…I just didn’t want you involved. I broke it off with you the second that had to become my main focus, but really – I think it was just an excuse.” Harry paused. “…I was a horrid boyfriend, wasn’t I?” he said sheepishly.
Ginny held her finger and thumb very close together. “Just a smidge,” she said, but she was smiling. It wasn’t her usual smile; there was something sad behind it. But it was still a smile, and that was promising.
“I’ve only just sort of clued in on a lot of this,” Harry said, relaxing back against the couch cushions. It was actually a relief to get this off his chest. “I realized that maybe what I need isn’t something typical. Maybe it’s just – completely different. And totally unexpected.” His eyes drifted toward Draco again, and this time Ginny turned to see what he was looking at.
“…Yes, I sort of knew that was coming,” she said slowly, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he snapped his head back around to look at her. “I could tell there was something going on with you two, even as early as the summer. This might sound awful, but it felt like he was moving in on my territory.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Which possibly is why I got a bit desperate. It’s definitely why I was so short with him the other day. It’s like he’s taken my place – but then I guess it was a place I never really had to begin with.” Ginny laughed again, but Harry noticed with some alarm that her voice was starting to sound thick in that way it did when girls were close to tears. “I’m jealous,” she admitted. “Of him.”
“Did someone say something to you?” Harry asked, his voice going a bit high-pitched and nervous.
“Hermione warned me when she talked to me yesterday,” Ginny said. “But I wasn’t all that surprised.”
“Oh.” Harry rubbed his neck again. “I really am sorry,” he said. “This turned into such a mess. I should have been clearer with you in the beginning.”
“You were very clear,” Ginny said. “I just didn’t want to let you go. I’m stubborn like that.” She pulled her feet up onto the couch suddenly, and then lifted Harry’s arm out of the way so she could tuck herself against his side. Harry hesitated only for a second before resting his arm back down around her shoulder and holding her close. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “For not listening.” She waited a beat, and then added wryly, “And for apparently turning you queer.”
Harry nearly choked on his own spit. “You didn’t–!” Then Ginny’s smirk caught up to him and he scowled. “Cheeky bint,” he murmured, pinching her arm.
Ginny laughed again, and for the first time it actually sounded genuine. “That’s going to be my claim to fame, Potter, so you’d best get used to hearing it.”
“Wonderful,” Harry grumbled, but he was grinning, too.
It faded when he looked back across the room, however, because Draco had disappeared.
* * *
Remus and Tonks turned up again on New Year’s Eve, and they brought with them the surprising news that Tonks was pregnant. Harry grinned and congratulated them with everyone else, but somewhere in the back of his head he couldn’t help thinking it was slightly unfair that all these other people could get so much shagging in when he couldn’t even manage to get Draco to bloody talk to him.
He’d been avoiding Harry since Christmas, and Harry had bypassed being sympathetic toward him at all in favor of thinking he was being a ridiculous prat. Harry could guess why he was mad, after all. He knew what it must have looked like when he and Ginny were sitting together on the couch. But every time Draco stormed out of the room as soon as Harry entered, he could feel his patience growing thinner.
“He’s really getting on my last nerve,” he said to Ron, as the girls gathered around Tonks to pester her with questions. They were standing in the entranceway to the sitting room, purposely blocking the way out as Harry watched Draco talk to George – again – over by the Christmas tree. Something hot and angry welled up in his chest, an unfortunately familiar feeling that he thought had gone away after last year. Since when was George this friendly with Draco, anyway?
Ron noticed him scowling and raised an eyebrow. “What is it that’s got his wand in a knot?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’s mad I had the gall to touch Ginny the other day,” Harry said, rolling his eyes so hard it almost hurt. “God forbid we stay friends. And of course, being the tosser that he is, he won’t even let me attempt to explain.”
“Well, you knew that going in,” Ron said. “That he was a tosser.” He looked amused at the entire situation, which Harry very much didn’t appreciate.
“I must be out of my mind,” Harry muttered. “We’re already having stupid fights and we’re not even together.”
“You’ve always had stupid fights, mate. That’s what you do.”
“Yeah, but normally I don’t care!” Harry exclaimed. “This is – he won’t even look at me, for God’s sake.”
“So he’s a bit high maintenance,” Ron said, and Harry immediately scoffed.
“A bit? Understatement of the century, that is.”
Ron shrugged. “You’ll work it out. If not tonight, then when Ginny goes back to Hogwarts. He might finally get off his high horse at that point.”
“Not bloody likely,” Harry said, and then he frowned. “Wait, tonight?”
Ron gave him a faintly exasperated look. “Well, yeah. New Year’s Eve, you know? I’m planning on snogging the hell out of Hermione at midnight.”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Oh,” he said. “Oh. Right! Merlin, I nearly forgot.”
“I have no idea what you would do without me,” Ron said, grinning.
“Yeah, that makes two of us,” Harry returned.
Ron laughed, before a slightly worried look washed over his face. “…Hermione looks a little too excited over there,” he said. “Let me go grab her before she starts getting ideas.”
He left Harry standing alone, but Remus joined him not long after.
“Happy New Year, Harry,” he said, smiling and looking more content than Harry had seen him in a long time. “Did you have a good Christmas?”
“It wasn’t bad,” Harry replied, which wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t really feel like having to explain the entire Draco situation. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how well it would go over. “How was yours? You were with – Tonks’ mum, right?”
Remus nodded. “Andromeda,” he said, with a glance in Draco’s direction. “His mother’s sister.”
“Did they take the news well?” Harry asked.
“As well as could be expected,” Remus said, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “Given that we’re – not married. Andromeda may not be your typical Pureblood, but there are still some beliefs she firmly stands by. And her husband, Ted – well. Tonks is his only daughter, so you can imagine…”
Harry chuckled, not needing any further explanation than that. He could easily picture what Mr. Weasley would do when Ginny turned up pregnant one day. The thought made him pale a bit, and he was suddenly very glad he and Ginny had never made it that far.
“Well, congratulations again,” Harry said. “It’s brilliant, really. When is she due?”
“Around Easter,” Remus said. “Which means she’s to stay put until then, which she’s not happy about.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed they don’t like being told what to do,” Harry said dryly, gesturing in Tonks’ direction. She was sitting with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, while Hermione still hovered nearby despite Ron’s attempts to drag her away.
“It’s a lesson all men must learn the hard way, I fear,” Remus said. “Nonetheless, as long as it’s my son she’s carrying she’ll stay well out of harm’s way. Or, at the very least,” he amended, his tone shifting towards exasperation, “she won’t go seek it out. No Order business until the spring.”
“…Your son,” Harry repeated, his eyes widening a bit. “It’s a boy, then?”
A warm smile spread across Remus’ face. “It is,” he said. “And actually, we were wondering if – if you would be his godfather, Harry.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “Really,” he said with a laugh. “You’re serious? You want me to be the baby’s godfather?”
“We’d be honored,” Remus said.
“I’d be honored,” Harry exclaimed. “Remus – yes, of course! Absolutely, I’d love to!”
Remus reached out and gave Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. “Wonderful,” he said, and then playfully added, “Talk to me again in a few months and we’ll discuss you being my best man.”
“Another wedding?” Harry asked, grinning.
“Eventually,” Remus said. “Probably after all this is over.”
Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a dad.”
“Me neither. The last time I held a baby was when you were still in nappies.”
“…Thanks for that,” Harry said, flushing a dull red, and Remus chuckled.
“You were a handful,” he said, and then paused. “…Quite a handful, actually. I’m not sure I want to think about that.”
“Oh, go on, Remus,” Harry said, amused now. “It’s only a few months of screaming and wailing. Or ten years, if he’s anything like my cousin.”
Remus shuddered. “Heaven forbid.” He stepped away from the door. “I think I’ll take my leave now, before you plant any other worries in my head.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” Harry quipped.
“Don’t get too smart,” Remus said, smirking a bit. “As his godfather, we’re allowed to pawn him off onto you when we need a good night’s sleep.” Harry laughed, and Remus winked at him before going over to stand beside Tonks. He absently placed a hand on the small of her back, and Harry watched as she leaned into him without even seeming to realize it. It was the same sort of casual, unconscious touching that Ron and Hermione did constantly these days. Touches that spoke of trust and familiarity. Of comfort. Of – more.
It was the kind of touch Harry wanted to have with someone.
With sudden determination, Harry looked around until he found Draco standing off to the side of the room, and their eyes met briefly. Harry wasn’t surprised Draco had been watching him – he was always watching him, Harry realized, and had probably been doing so for months. Watching and waiting for Harry to stop being so bloody thick.
Draco’s eyes widened at the look on Harry’s face and he immediately started searching for an escape route. And since Draco taking off would kind of ruin Harry’s plans for the evening, he was very much unwilling to let that happen. He stepped further into the room, thinking maybe he could corner Draco, except that turned out to be a mistake because Harry was promptly waylaid by Hermione throwing herself at him, and now the doorway was wide open.
“Happy New Year!” Hermione said, her arms around Harry’s neck as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Harry was momentarily distracted as he automatically returned the hug. “Same to you,” he said absently, glancing over her shoulder and trying to find a certain blonde head amongst all the ginger ones.
Hermione pulled back and frowned at him. “Is something wrong?”
“What? No – sorry – man on a mission, Hermione,” Harry said, growing frustrated. “Bloody hell, where did he go?”
“Oh!” Hermione said, understanding dawning in her eyes. She gave him a shove back towards the door, and Harry turned around just in time to see Draco slip out. “Don’t let me keep you, then. Go!”
Harry shot her a grin as he took off. “Brilliant – thanks, Hermione!” He made it out into the hallway as Draco was climbing up the stairs, and quickly started after him. “Malfoy!” he called. “Wait, hold on!”
Draco turned around at the top of the stairs and glared furiously down at Harry. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he spat. “I get it, alright?”
“No, you don’t,’ Harry said, pausing a few steps below him. “You don’t get it at all. If you would just let me–”
“Look,” Draco interrupted. “I really don’t feel like dealing with you right now, Potter. You can bother me tomorrow, but right now just – turn around. Go back to your perfect little girlfriend and her stupid perfect family and a have a bunch of perfect bespectacled, ginger babies. I don’t care.” He spun around and stomped down the hall, leaving Harry to scramble after him.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said, catching up so that he could grab Draco’s arm. “Malfoy. Just stop for one bloody second!”
“What?” Draco snapped, yanking his arm from Harry’s grip and facing him again. “Merlin, Potter, you’re so – I don’t want to talk to you, don’t you get that?! This is–” He cut himself off, his face pink and his chest heaving as his breathing sped up. “I had thought–” And then he scowled and shook his head, before digging his hands back into his hair. “This is embarrassing,” he finally ground out. “I keep doing this, I keep thinking you might – but you don’t. And that’s – fine. Whatever, I’ll deal with it, but I just – I can’t look at you right now without feeling…” He leaned back against the wall, letting one hand fall to his side while the other slid down over his face and rubbed at his eyes. “Like shit,” he finished hoarsely.
Harry’s hands twitched and he ached to reach out to Draco, but he crossed his arms tightly over his chest instead. “Are you done?” he asked, and Draco whipped his hand away from his face to give Harry a livid, incredulous look.
“Yes,” he said shortly, and didn’t seem to notice when Harry took a step closer. “So sorry, was I taking up too much of the Chosen One’s time? For fuck’s sake, Potter…” Draco shifted, and all of a sudden he just seemed to wilt as he dragged his palm over his face again. “What do you want?”
This time, Harry had his answer ready. “You,” he said. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet his, wide and confused, and Harry closed the distance between them until they were standing chest-to-chest. “You stupid, daft, stubborn, impossible Slytherin.”
Draco’s hand lowered, hovering hesitantly over Harry’s shoulder as the anger cleared slowly from his face. Something like hope sparked in his eyes, and Harry’s stomach did a funny sort of flip. “…That’s not an insult,” Draco said, somewhat shakily, and Harry let out a relieved breath and gave him a faint grin.
“Says you,” he replied, and then he moved forward, hands reaching out to cup Draco’s face as he drew him close and kissed him square on the mouth.
Draco’s mouth opened beneath Harry’s in a gasp, his hand coming down to clutch at the front of Harry’s shirt. There was the briefest moment of uncertainty on his end, a single second that seemed to stretch into hours while Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Draco to respond, to kiss him back, to do something.
And then Draco made a desperate sound in the back of his throat and surged up against Harry, using his grip on his shirt to pull him closer at the same time. He tilted his head to the side a bit, kissing Harry for all he was worth, and brilliant warmth shot through Harry. It filled him up and consumed him whole as he finally let every last doubt and worry fall away so he could just focus on Draco. On his scent and on the feel of his hair as it slid between Harry’s fingers. On this kiss. On getting even closer to him.
“…I’m confused,” Draco panted, his breath ghosting over Harry’s lips as he pulled back just slightly. “I thought you and the Weaselette–”
“You thought wrong,” Harry interrupted, and he couldn’t even be bothered to tell Draco not to call her that as he dove in for another kiss.
Draco returned it for a moment, and then pulled back again. “It looked like you were getting back together.”
“…No,” Harry said, sighing and resting his forehead against Draco’s. “That was us finalizing the break-up.” When Draco remained quiet, Harry cracked an eye open to peer at him, only to find him looking completely skeptical.
“That was you breaking up,” he repeated. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, frowning slightly. “Why?”
“You were cuddling!” Draco said, as though this should have been obvious. “You were sitting on the couch together and you had an arm around her and you were cuddling. That was a break-up?”
Harry cleared his throat awkwardly and went a bit shifty-eyed. “Er…yeah.”
Draco stared at him. “…You lot are so backwards,” he said. “You’re mad, every single one of you. I don’t know how I put up with any of you.”
“You put up with us by snogging me,” Harry said, which didn’t really make any sense but he was well past caring. He leaned forward again and Draco met him eagerly, his eyes sliding shut–
Except they popped right back open almost immediately as he pulled back again, and Harry had to bite back a groan. “You are snogging me, aren’t you?” Draco said. He sounded like he had just realized this.
Harry snorted. “Well spotted,” he said. “I can do it again, in case you were uncertain.”
“Oh, shut up,” Draco said. “Don’t go getting cocky.” He met Harry’s eyes. “You’ve just broken up with your girlfriend for good. And you’re kissing me.”
“…That about sums it up,” Harry said with a grin. “I’ve been wanting to for days, but you’ve been acting like an absolute prat.”
Draco’s cheeks went pink, but he did his best to pretend they hadn’t and just turned up his nose. “You might have tried a little harder.”
Harry could only laugh in response. He lowered his hands from Draco’s face and wrapped his arms around his waist instead. “I suppose I could have,” he said, as Draco circled his own arms around Harry’s neck. “You put up with my idiocy for long enough.”
“It’s true, I did,” Draco said, tugging Harry closer. “I deserve an award, frankly. An Order of Merlin. First class, I think.” He didn’t give Harry a chance to reply, which Harry was perfectly fine with. Kissing was really much better than talking, anyway.
A loud cheer suddenly came up through the floor below them. Harry and Draco broke apart again, both of them breathing heavily.
“Midnight,” Draco murmured. “Should we – I guess you want to go back downstairs and celebrate?”
“No,” Harry breathed. “I’m good. What I want…” He slid his palm over Draco’s hip, and then let his fingers slip beneath the bottom of Draco’s sweater. “Is for this to come off.”
Draco gave him a slow smirk. “And suddenly you’re all impatient. I don’t really think you have the right to be, Potter. And besides, I like my Weasley jumper. Maybe I don’t want to take it off.”
Harry blinked at him, and then leaned back to get a better look at what he was wearing. “…I honestly didn’t think you’d ever put that on again,” he said, laughing and wondering how he’d missed the large D on Draco’s chest.
Draco lifted his chin. “It’s comfortable,” he said defensively. “I might just keep it on forever, in fact.”
“Hey, none of that now,” Harry said. He stepped in close again, pressing his fingers against Draco’s skin just above the waistband of his trousers. “It’s not as though I haven’t seen you without a shirt on before.”
“Oh, I’m hardly worried about that,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “I just don’t see why I should make this easy for you.” Another loud cheer rose up from beneath them, and Draco glanced back toward the stairs. “…We’re still out in the hallway,” he murmured. “Come on.”
He pulled Harry down the hall to his bedroom, keeping a loose grip on his wrist the whole time. Harry briefly wondered what it would be like to actually hold hands with another boy, but Draco was pushing him into the room and shutting the door firmly behind them before he had a chance to find out.
“You don’t think anyone’s going to come looking for you?” Draco asked, unceremoniously pulling his sweater over his head and dumping it on a nearby chair. Harry’s eyes went a little wide, but it turned out Draco was wearing another t-shirt underneath. He snorted at the look on Harry’s face. “Don’t get excited, Potter. Those just really are very warm.”
“You’re going to be a horrid tease about all this, aren’t you?” Harry asked, just a touch exasperated.
Draco grinned. “For tonight, at least.”
Harry rolled his eyes skyward. “Would it help if I got on my knees and begged for your forgiveness?”
“…Well, I don’t know about the begging part,” Draco said after a beat. “But I like the idea of you being on your knees.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but then the implication of what Draco was saying caught up to him and his cheeks flushed a deep red.
Draco laughed. “Oh, for – breathe, Potter, I’m only kidding. Merlin, your face.”
“Shut up,” Harry grumbled, curling a hand around one of the posts of Draco’s bed and resting against it. “It’s just – that’s a bit beyond me. At the moment. For now.”
Draco moved closer, letting his hands press against Harry’s abdomen as he leaned into him. “We can work up to it,” he said, giving Harry a quick kiss. “It’s not your fault you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry, and where’s the line of blokes you’ve been going down on?” Harry asked dryly, lifting an eyebrow.
“Well!” Draco said, ignoring the question. “This will be fun. Lots of awkward, clueless shagging. Be still my heart.”
“Honestly, all I got out of that was lots of shagging,” Harry said, grinning. He stepped forward until Draco was forced to sit down on the bed. “And that I’m perfectly okay with.”
“I always knew you were a pervert, Potter,” Draco said, as Harry planted one knee on the bed alongside Draco’s hip.
Harry attempted a leer, but the look Draco gave him told him he’d failed miserably and he ruined it further by laughing. “The others won’t be looking for us, you know,” he said, belatedly answering Draco’s question from earlier. “Hermione saw us leave.”
Draco blinked. “So?” He leaned back on his hands, looking up at Harry, and then his eyes went wide. “Wait, does she know?”
“…Of course she knows,” Harry said. “She’s Hermione.” He gave Draco a look. “Besides, you told Ron.”
“I can’t be blamed for that,” Draco said quickly. “I was drunk. The words your hand down my pants just came spewing out before I could stop them, I swear!”
“Regardless,” Harry said, resolving to pretend he hadn’t just heard that. “You told Ron, he told Hermione, Hermione told Ginny – oh, and Ron also told the twins. So yeah. They all know.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Thanks.”
“I’ll consider that my good deed of the year, then,” Draco said. “Now you don’t have to suffer through the painfully embarrassing act of telling them yourself.”
“…The year only just started about five minutes ago, Malfoy.”
“Well, mother always taught me not to procrastinate.”
“And I still have to suffer through them taking the mickey out of me.”
“Oh, Potter,” Draco said, tugging on the front of Harry’s shirt. “They would have found a reason to do that without my help.”
Fair enough, Harry thought, as he pushed Draco down onto the bed and quickly found his mouth again. Draco arched up against him with a soft groan, and then he squirmed around until he was able to scoot farther up the bed to lie against the pillows. Harry moved with him, unwilling to stop kissing him even as he clumsily kicked off his trainers. He braced himself on his forearm, his other hand palming Draco’s hip, and when Draco’s lips parted to let him in everything instantly became a thousand times better and more heated and intense and Harry never, ever wanted these feelings to end.
If any of the others were going to tease him because he’d snuck away for this…
He let his hand slide around to the small of Draco’s back, grinning against his mouth when Draco made a very content sound.
…Well, it was fucking worth it.
Don't worry, that wasn't a fade-to-black sex scene or anything. You're not going to miss them shagging! ;D
ANYWAY, I'm off to Florida tomorrow! See you guys in two weeks!
You can also read it at Skyehawke.