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Bucket List
Draco only has five years left to live. Crossing Harry off of his list might not be as easy as he plans.

Draco stared down at the paper that had just been dropped onto the table by a delivery owl from the Daily Prophet. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was fate!

He downed his tea and scooping up the paper, rushed to the fireplace to floo to Pansy’s. He threw in a handful of powder, stating Pansy’s place of residents. An empty sitting room greeted him upon his arrival. Pansy was known to stay in bed until noon, so Draco wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t in the dining room either. He flung open Pansy’s bedroom door, brandishing the paper for her to see.

“Do you know what this means?” Draco asked. Holding up the front page of the Daily Prophet, showing a picture of Harry Potter, sitting across from a man at a fancy dining establishment. Pansy groaned and pulled her sleeping mask away from her eyes, to be better able to shoot Draco a death glare. “That you are an inconsiderate, prat?”

“This is concerning the list.” Draco said, without apology. He plopped himself down on Pansy’s bed and dropped the morning paper into her lap. She read out loud, her voice still husky with sleep. “Harry Potter Gay?” Pansy smirked, “I’m sure the masses are heartbroken.”

“Friends say that they have known about Harry’s preferences for years, but until recently he has kept it hidden from the public. Apparently the Chosen One is no longer hiding, this dark secret, as he has been seen out with multiple men the past few weeks, including Quidditch star Ezra Reed. They were seen at multiple places last night together, their demeanor, more than just friendly. Both have refused to give a statement confirming or denying their relationship, as of yet. See page 7 for an interview with, classmate, Zacharias Smith, who tells all about Harry Potter’s relationships in school and how Potter stalked him in sixth year at Hogwarts.”

“Stalked.” Pansy snorted, “That’s ridiculous.”

Pansy sat the paper down. “Although amusing. I fail to see what this has to do with the list.”

“Item 19.” Draco said, although he thought it should be obvious.

“Just because Potter is gay, doesn’t mean that he is going to start liking you more. Has he even acknowledged you in five years?”

Draco huffed, “It is I who has refused to acknowledge him.” He spread out onto Pansy’s bed, confident in his appeal. “I don’t think I will have a problem.”

“You don’t think it’s a problem that you once stomped on Potter’s face?”

“The past, Pansy.” Draco could see that he hadn’t swayed her opinion an ounce, but she shifted over to let Draco climb closer, then ran her hands through his hair, like she liked to do.

“What is your plan?”

“I shall go down to the department of Magical Games and Sports tomorrow and turn on the charm.”

“Well after you are done charming Potter, come down the hall to my office and we can go to lunch.”

“I forgot you work on the same floor.”

“For three years. In which he has done a marvelous job of not acknowledging me as well. I once rode the elevator with him for eleven floors and he didn’t even look my way a single time.”

“Well you did try to turn him over to The Dark Lord, during the war.”

“I don’t know why everyone got up in arms about it, that’s what he ended up doing anyways. If they would have listened to me in the first place, more lives would have been saved.”

She did have a point, but Draco refused to have this conversation again.  “What should I wear?”

Draco walked into the department of Magical Games and Sports as if he owned the place.  He had spent hours perfecting his appearance, making sure his clothes fit just right. He practiced his walk, he practiced the seductive look he was going for, he even practiced the way he planned to lean on Potter’s desk once he stopped in front of it.  What he didn’t do was think of a reason to give on being there. He gave Potter a sultry look as he leaned one hip against his desk. Potter paused from his work and looked up at Draco with a surprised look, that quickly turned into a look of annoyance, all furrowed brows and frown.

“Is there something you need, Malfoy?”  Draco found that flirting with Potter wasn’t an easy task.  Potter’s tone got under his skin and Draco could feel his sultry expression beginning to morph into the well practiced sneer that just happened when he looked at Potter’s stupid face.  But he was on a mission, the list wasn’t going to finish itself.

“I need an event permit.”  He said, keeping his voice smooth with great effort.

“Event permits are down the hall.  I would think you would know where.”

“It is a Quidditch event.”

“A Quidditch event?”

“That’s what I said.”  Draco could hear the annoyance in his own voice this time and with a deep breath changed his voice back to sultry.  “Do you think you can help me with that?” With effort he relaxed the sneer, but he could feel that his perfected smile wasn’t right.  This wasn’t going as planned at all.

“Batton takes care of permits.”  Potter said, pointing at a chubby man two desks away.  Then raised a brow as if to say, now please leave me alone.

“Hmm.”  Draco, unleened himself from Potter’s desk and with practiced grace sauntered to the pudgy man’s desk, two rows back, he could feel Potter’s eyes following him.  At least that was one win today.

Of all the things he didn’t need today, Draco Malfoy appearing in his department wasn’t one of them. He had gotten woken up at 5 this morning with owls sending letters. Mostly owls of outrage. Some with letters of encouragement. He would feel more encouraged if the owls had not woken him up. He needed to get a P.O Box, Personal Owlery Box. Then he could get his mail at his convenience, not at the crack of dawn. He would go set one up after work. With the article in the Daily Prophet he would need it.

He couldn’t believe that stupid article. More than friendly, it was a work dinner. He had been working with Ezra on the updates of this years Quidditch rules and regulations. Some changes had been made and Ezra was president of the IQL board. There had been nothing romantic about it. And as far as stalking Smith in school. He had followed him one time and it had been an accident, he had been trying to follow Malfoy and had accidentally followed the wrong blond. He wasn’t stalking Malfoy either. It had been completely legit detective work, which he often liked to remind his friends was warranted, because he had been right. Malfoy had been up to something. He was always up to something and today wasn’t any different. Malfoy had come strolling into his office as if he were Harry’s boss and was expecting a full report to be placed in his manicured hands. One tightly clothed thigh practically sitting on the edge of his desk. His desk. Then had the nerve to sneer down at him. Harry huffed to himself and then tried to concentrate on his work. An impossible feat, with everything that had happened this morning.

A short fifteen minutes later, Malfoy returned to Harry’s desk, holding a stamped piece of parchment. “I have my permit. It was quite quick and painless. I am happy to inform you that your department isn’t completely incompetent like many of the other departments.”

Harry didn’t really know what to say. Malfoy had one hip on the edge of his desk again as if that were a perfectly normal thing to do. “I’m glad to hear that.” Harry looked back down at his unfinished work, but Malfoy didn’t leave. Continuing to linger instead.   “Is there something else you need?” He finally asked, hoping Malfoy would get the hint that he was expected to leave after getting his permit.

“Since you ask.” Malfoy said, and Harry could almost swear that he fluttered his eyelashes at him. Long pail eyelashes.

 
“Would you like to participate? In the Quidditch match. I could use another seeker.”

“You want me to play Quidditch at your event?” Harry asked, slowly, sure he had misheard. “Why would I do that?”

“I thought you liked playing Quidditch, or are you to busy pushing papers now to get your hands around a broom?”

“I play still, but I repeat. Why?”

“It’s a fundraiser. For orphaned children.” Malfoy said, as if Harry were being heartless.

“You are planning a Quidditch match to raise money for orphaned children?” Harry asked.

“Sure. And having the famous Harry Potter in the match would probably double the ticket sells.” Malfoy leaned in, completely sitting on his desk now. “No matter how he bends.”

Harry felt his face heat up. Apparently Malfoy had read the paper this morning.

“Hmm. No.” He said.

“Not even for the children?” Malfoy said, giving Harry an astonished look. “What will my dear cousin think? His own Godfather won’t help to raise money for orphaned children.”

“You see Teddy?” Harry asked, not believing it for one moment. He had never heard his name mentioned at the Tonk’s residence.

“Yes. He is my only cousin.” Draco sat up straighter. “And he adores me. Ask him. That is if he still wants to talk to you after he finds out you don’t care about children that have lost their parents.”

“I care about…” Harry took a deep breath, “Fine. I’ll play seeker. Who’s going to be on my team with me?” Harry pictured a team made of Harry’s least favorite people.

“Not all the spots are filled yet and I’m still waiting on replies, but I was thinking about asking that Weasel...ey.”

“Ginny?” She was a chaser for the Holyheads Harpies.

“No, this is amateur only. The one that owns the prank shops.”

“George?”

“Yes, he is a popular face and if I recall he used to play beater.”

“Might be tougher to recruit him than you think.”

“I’m capable of a challenge.” Malfoy said, leaning forward again. Harry caught himself leaning away, for some distance. Malfoy’s easy going attitude changed as quickly as the weather. His expression went stiff and in a tone, borderline impatient, as if Harry were the one holding him up he stood up and waved an uninterested hand Harry’s way. “Well, I will owl you more information and dates for practice games.” With that he flounced from the room. Harry shoved his paperwork away from him. He would never be able to focus now. He would go see Ron and see if he wanted to go to lunch early.

“How did it go?” Pansy asked.

Draco transfigured the hard chair in the corner of Pansy’s office into a large plush chair and dropped into it. “Well, I have a permit for a Quidditch charity event that I’m expected to pull together in two weeks.”

“So he didn’t want to fall into bed with you?”

“He just needs a little more time to warm up to the idea. He did agree to play seeker for one of the teams.” Draco said, leaving out that it took convincing and a little blackmail.

“That is a start darling.”

“I’m going to need your and Zabini’s help tonight.” Draco, batted his eyes at Pansy, if only it had worked on Potter as well as it did on his friends. “Invitations need to be sent. Catering and decorating need planned. I will need to contact a proper charity and find players for two teams.” Draco looked hopefully at Pansy.

“We will start planning at lunch.” She said, he was going to have to buy her an entire new wardrobe to pay for this one.

Five days later Draco found himself down at the DMGS again. He really didn’t know what he seen in Potter. His hair was a mess and his glasses were different, but still atrocious. Even muggles had mastered frameless lenses, but apparently the chosen one had not. He supposed he did have pretty eyes, and his body wasn’t bad to look at...probably. It was hard to tell with the loose robes he chose to wear.

Harry shot Draco’s thigh a look as it sat comfortably on the edge of his desk. The thin material hugged it, showing off the lean muscle underneath. Draco flashed a sexy smile. “I have to get a few changes to my permit.” he volunteered before Potter had a chance to ask him what he wanted. Draco thought he was making it clear what he wanted, but Potter had always been thick.

“Again, I don’t deal with permits.”

“I thought I would give you the forms and information needed for the event in person, since I was already coming this way.” Draco waved his wand and a small stack of papers formed on Potter’s desk. Causing a scowl to form on his face. He clearly didn’t like paper work, perhaps Potter should have thought about a different career option.

“Perfect.” Potter mumbled.

“Also.” Draco added, trying to get Potter’s attention back onto him. He slid his thigh farther up on the desk, so that Potter would have a view of an arse cheek as well. He gave Potter a knowing smile, when he looked. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get lunch.”

Potter’s eyes, darted up immediately. “Lunch with you?” Potter asked, a look of complete disbelief, and Draco grudgingly admitted horror.

“As one of the team captains, I thought it would be good to go over some of the details.” Draco snapped, standing stiffly in response to Potter’s negative reaction. “Set up a few practice dates and give you a list of your teammates as of now.”

“Wait. Why am I team captain? I never volunteered for that!” Potter complained.

“Because you are the most qualified. Obviously.” Draco drawled, as if it pained him to say such a thing. Potter racked his hands through his hair, making it more of a mess.  “Pansy is helping me, I suppose you can always meet with her if you prefer.”

“No.” Potter quickly rejected the suggestion. “No, I will go to lunch. We can leave as soon as you get your permit corrected.”

“Perfect.” Draco said, turning to head to Batton’s desk.

“You went to lunch with Malfoy?” Ron asked, his tone was a mixture of disbelief and laughter.  “Draco Malfoy?”

“Yes. Apparently I’m team captain or some such.”

Ron’s laughter, wasn’t putting Harry’s spirits any higher. “That’s great, next you will be going with him to pick out team uniforms.” Harry stuffed a bit of his dinner into his mouth and looked down at his plate of food, which was looking more and more interesting compared to Ron.

“Bloody Hell Harry! You aren’t actually going uniform shopping with Malfoy?”

Harry forced his eyes up from his food and shrugged. “The other team captain is going too.” It wasn’t a big deal. It was an annoyance, but not the riot Ron was making it out to be.

“Malfoy’s not the other team captain?” Hermione asked, she had been uncharacteristically quiet, as of now.

“Nope, some guy named Finn Pinkerton”

“Finn Pinkerton!” Hermione sat up in her chair, almost throwing the food off her fork, in a Ronlike manner.

“That’s what Malfoy said.”

“You don’t know who that is mate do you?” Ron asked.

 
“Should I?”

“Really Harry, you need to get out more.” Hermione told him. As if Hermione were one to talk about getting out.

“He’s only the lead singer for the hottest band, Warlocks of London” Hermione said, shaking her head as if Harry had disappointed her by not knowing that.

“They’re bloody amazing, we’ve been to see them three times.” Ron said.

“Three times? Where was I?”

“Work probably.”

“You work too much Harry.” Hermione said. Ron shook his head in agreement, with his fiance. Not that, that was a new occurrence.

“Maybe you could ask him to play at our wedding!” Hermione suggested, her hair bouncing in her excitement at the suggestion.
Harry let out a sigh. He would ask, but it was bad enough that he got suckered into this entire charity event, now he had to go to lunches with Malfoy and shopping.

“I’ll see if he’s available.”

“Oh, thank you Harry!” She beamed at Harry and then at Ron, “Can you imagine if the Warlocks of London play at our wedding!”  Ron gave Harry a shrug.

“You know Harry, this thing could be fun.” Hermione suggested, after she calmed down about Finn Pinkerton.

“Shopping with Malfoy?” Harry asked. There was no way that was going to be fun. Harry hated shopping at the best of times.

“No, the Quidditch match.” Harry could see her posture change and knew he was going to get Hermione’s advice whether he wanted it or not.  “You loved Quidditch at school. This won’t be much different.” She did have a point, but the fun part was beating Malfoy and the Slytherins. He shrugged, in response.

“It could maybe be fun and hey, maybe Malfoy will be on the other team and you can beat him just like old times.” Ron encouraged.

Harry pictured the Malfoy that had been leaning on his desk earlier today. His pants had been so tight it was a wonder he was able to lift his leg high enough to prop it up on his desk at all and he just didn’t think this was going to go anything like it did at school.  “Malfoy has been acting...strange.” Harry admitted.

“How so?” Ron asked, his mouth full of food.

Harry shrugged, he shouldn’t of said anything, because he knew he would be completely unable to describe it.

.
“Less of a git?” Ron suggested.

“No, he’s still a git.” Harry recalled the way Draco had laughed at the waiters suggestion that they try the fritter and gravy. As if his sophisticated taste buds were well above, such food as a fritter. Harry had thought it sounded good, but had been unwilling to order it from the harassed looking waiter.  Then when the bill arrived, he hadn’t even reached for the check. He looked straight at Harry, as if to say, "you don’t really expect me to pay do you?"

“No, definitely still a git.”

“People do change, Harry. He can’t be so bad, if he is hosting a charity event.”

“Rich people host charity events all the time.” Ron argued, “It gives them an excuse to throw a party, they can ride off on their taxes.”

“Perhaps he’s grown up a little.” Hermione suggested.

Harry really didn’t want to talk about Malfoy anymore and asked about Hermione’s new favorite subject. The wedding.

“Really Potter. Orange?” Draco shuddered. “That is the ugliest color in the room. Well besides maybe for the color of your robes.”

Potter let out a sigh of frustration. Honestly, he needed a keeper. Someone that wouldn’t let him leave the house wearing...well anything he owned. Draco had turned down every suggestion Potter had made for good reason.  “Your input is valued, Potter.” Draco gave Potter a light pat on the shoulder, letting his fingers linger slightly. “You just need a point in the right direction.”

“Humph”

“I promise I won’t steer you wrong.” He said, giving Potter a wicked smile, that he hopped promised more, but that Potter seemed to not notice at all. Perhaps the paper was wrong, wouldn’t be the first time, or even the hundredth time. He needed to find out for sure.

“I thought the other captain was going to be here.” Potter commented. He was sounding bored and sulky, that would not do.

“You know musicians, they are never on time.” Draco waved offhandedly towards the door. He had told Pansy to keep him occupied as to get some alone time with Potter, but so far it wasn’t turning out as planned. Potter always found a way to spoil Draco’s plans.  “Now before you turn the idea down completely. What about green?” Potter made a face, and Draco quickly pushed on, “It doesn’t have to be Slytherin green, but a nice jade, or maybe a teal?” He pulled a square of fabric off the wall and held it up to Harry, then put it down, picking up the one next to it.

“That looks like the exact same color.”

“Oh Harry. You are possibly a lost cause.” Draco sighed. Calling Potter by his first name seemed to get a reaction out of him. He looked surprised for a second and then pleased. Draco decided to call him by his first name more often.  “You will just have to trust me to pick something out that looks good. It will go faster and then we can go get a drink as your reward.”

“You know I’m not the only one going to be wearing these uniforms.” Harry commented.

“Yes, but you are going to be the main star. Can’t have you looking washed out.”

The other captain arrived with Pansy on his arm. “Draco, darling. Sorry we are are late. We lost track of time.” She gave Draco an insinuating wink.

“Perfect timing! Maybe you can help me, I was thinking a shade of teal.” Pansy pounced on the color samples, flipping by each color, with a trained eye.

Draco could hear Potter introducing himself to the other captain.  “Hello, I’m Harry.” Potter greeted, holding out his hand. “Um, the competition I suppose.”
Draco rolled his eyes.  As if the lead singer to a band was competition to the Savior of the wizarding world.

“The Harry Potter. It’s a pleasure.”

“So what color do you think you will er go with for your team?” Potter asked, struggling to make conversation. Draco, grinned down at the teal he thought was his favorite.

“Whatever color Pansy tells me to.”

“I don’t see why they invited us.” Harry was quick to point out. Draco could have none of that talk.

“Potter. Over here, please.” Harry cringed, but walked over to where Draco was. Draco held up his top pick to Potter’s cheek.

“I think something darker.” Pansy suggested, walking away to gather, a few more selections.

“Don’t worry. We are almost done.” Draco reassured. Pansy had Finn following her around, to hold the swatches of material for her, like an obedient canine.  “It’s a shame.” Draco said, following the musicians, whipped movements.

Potter gave Draco a questioning look, “To have someone with such a nice cock, only to keep it tied up in her purse strings.” This rewarded Draco with a half cough, half laugh. Draco would take it.  He leaned in closer to Potter and whispered, “I would know too. I once walked in on him at Pansy’s. Very nice.” Draco leaned out, “Of course it would have been a much better experience if I hadn’t also walked in on Pansy in a position, I would care never to see or remember again.”

“I thought you used to date Pansy in school.”

Draco actually threw his head back and laughed. “Merlin no.”
“Potter, I thought it was obvious. I’m gay.”

“I thought you might be bi.” Potter huffed, not appreciating being laughed at. “Besides I hardly know you, why would anything be obvious about you?”

“Are you?” Bisexual?” Draco asked, biting back, the retort he really wanted to say. He wanted to grab Potter closer and suggest they get to know each other much better.

Potter didn’t answer right away. He fidgeted with a piece of material, showing interest for the first time in them all night. “No. I’m not.” He answered, sounding invasive.

Draco rolled his eyes.  “It’s not a big deal Potter.” Draco walked over and saved the silk swatch that Potter was twisting, into a wrinkled death. He cast a quick ironing charm at it and put it back. “You are either homophobic or gay and still uncomfortable with it. Which is it?” Draco stared at a surprised looking Potter. As he stumbled trying to convince Draco that he was not in fact homophobic. The heroic, chosen one, would never ever sink so low as to be homophobic. But then he realized that left the other option and he wasn’t ready to admit that, so his words were a stumbling mess.

“Er, I’m not…” Draco raised an unimpressed brow. And Potter finally spit out what Draco had been trying to get out of him for a week now.  “I’m not uncomfortable with being gay. I just er, don’t think it’s your business, Malfoy.”

Draco finally allowed himself to lean in and in a voice even Potter wouldn’t be oblivious to, said, “Maybe we could make it my business.”

Potter’s eyes got as big as two green saucers, and then his face turned three different shades of red.  “Very funny, Malfoy.”

“Is Draco trying to be funny again?” Pansy came over carrying a single sample. Potter looked down at it with relief. “Darling, how many times must I tell you, stick to what your good at: sarcasm and good hair.”

Draco apparated home   alone.  Why was Potter making this so difficult. He liked men, and Draco knew he was an attractive man. Potter would be lucky to have him. Yet he continued to act oblivious to Draco’s advances. He had tried to get out of going for a drink and then had only stayed for one. What was it he was looking for in another man? Apparently not gorgeous and witty.

The next morning, Harry woke up, to a floo call from Ron. “I'm coming through.” he called. A moment later he was standing in Harry's kitchen, with an unreadable expression.

“What is it now?” Harry asked, as he shuffled around half asleep still.

“How was uniform shopping with Malfoy?” Ron asked, his voice cracked and Harry could tell it was taking every ounce of willpower to keep from laughing.

“Shopping with Malfoy and Pansy.” He didn't think he need say more.

“Did you go for drinks afterwards?” Ron asked his voice still forced casualness.

Harry narrowed his eyes. “One.” Harry answered suspicion growing by the minute.

“So, Malfoy was completely sober when…” Ron swallowed his face threatening to crack, ”he was... caressing your... thigh?” Ron's control went completely out the window. He began laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face and he had to lean against the island to support himself.

“What are you talking about? You’re acting completely mental.”

In response Ron pulled a copy of the paper out of his robes and plopped it down onto the counter. The front page showed a picture of Harry and Malfoy at the pub last night. Malfoy was leaning towards Harry with a smile and laughter in his eyes. Harry remembered the moment but he hadn't recalled it looking like that. His hand had only reached out for a second but in the picture it looked...lingering. “That’s not really how it was.” Harry argued, “he wasn’t caressing anything.”

Ron wasn’t laughing as hard, but he was still catching his breath, probably for round two of a laughing fit.  “It was loud in there, he leaned in to say something. There wasn’t any romantic feelings.” Like the headline suggested. Are feelings forming between these two former rivalries? Romance blossoms between The Boy Who Lived and former death eater, Draco Malfoy.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but instead just started laughing again. “I can’t believe Malfoy was flirting with you.”

“He wasn’t bloody flirting with me.” Harry argued, but he might as well been arguing to the paper, as much as Ron was listening through his laughter.

“Harry mate, he is clearly flirting with you.” Ron paused in his laughing and his face took on a thoughtful expression for a moment, “Is this what you meant the other day when you said he was acting strange?”

Draco, wasn’t pleased at all by the article in the Prophet. Although it had caught his good angle, the reminder to the world that he was a former death eater, was not welcome. And he was afraid it would scare Potter off.  Draco decided he was going to spend the day in bed, or at least that was the plan. But as usual his plan didn't go like it was supposed to, someone always came along and ruined them. Today it was Pansy. She apparated over, with a pop.

“Darling, get up I have a wonderful surprise for you today.” She was dressed in tight pants and a sturdy, but still fashionable, looking pair of boots that rose up mid calf. Her top was a fitted jacket that fell below her hips, she looked like she was going to be taking up equestrianism. “I was going to wait until your birthday, but things have moved faster than planned and well...I don’t want to wait. I want to do it today.”

Draco got the feeling she thought he needed cheering up, but would never come out and say such a thing, it wasn’t their way. Draco’s bedroom door swung open and Blaise walked in. He was wearing robes, but they were short robes, that spoke of practicality, which Blaise didn’t usually show in his clothes. Fashion was hardly ever practical or comfortable.

Draco was intrigued.  He sat up in his bed, feeling excited. A surprise for him. “I will dress and join you two in a flash.” Draco said, throwing the covers off.

“I brought some cappuccinos and pastries from Kathy’s Cafe.” Blaise announced, lifting Draco’s mood, even more. Today was looking up.

Draco joined his two friends in the kitchen. He had matched his style of dress to theirs. A pastry and cappuccino was already waiting in an open spot for him.  “So where are we going?” Draco asked, not really expecting an answer, but hoping for some kind of clue.

“The sooner you finish up your breakfast the sooner we will be there.”

Draco, smiled as he ate his pastry. Trying to figure out where they would be taking him.

Draco usually avoided dark-dusty places, especially when they required the manual labor of crawling in said dust to reach it. But this was the Valley of the Kings. A place that he had dreamed of visiting since he was a child. He had begged his mother and father to take him when he was thirteen. He had learned about the secrets of the tombs in his ancient runes class. Rune magic could be traced back to ancient Egypt and it was said that the Pharaoh Ramses I, tomb was completely covered in magical runes, that to this day has been unable to be fully translated or broken.  Muggles were mostly fascinated with King Tut, obviously not knowing about the amount of magical power that the Ramses were believed to hold. Draco’s eyes flickered over the wall of runes. Each rune carefully etched neatly into the stone, until thousands of them seemed to form the wall. It vibrated with power and energy, that was lost to the wizarding world today.

“No pictures.” The guard barked.

Blaise had his camera up and his finger on the button. He hesitated, before lowering his camera again, with a pout on his face.  “But if there isn’t a picture than it’s like it didn’t happen.” He complained. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Is that how you justify having dinner last night with a certain someone?” Pansy said, batting her eyelashes, with a knowing smirk.

“It was a business dinner.” Blaise explained.

“That makes it worse.” Pansy said, her attention back on the wall, scanning over the runes, as if she had any possibility of knowing what a single one meant, never taking ancient runes as an elective at school.

“The Quibbler has come a long way in popularity and printing up to date stories and good interviews.” Neither Draco nor Pansy were really paying attention, but that didn’t stop Blaise from continuing.  “Even Harry Potter has done interviews for them.”

“Don’t try to win Draco to your side, by name dropping his most recent obsession.”

“You are thinking about working for Luna Lovegood?” Draco asked, placing a hand up to touch the wall.

“No touching.” The guard barked again. Draco shot him a look, but the guard’s face stayed blank.

“I’m not thinking about it. I accepted a position as junior editor last night.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Pansy whined, despite her teasing, Draco knew that she would want to take Blaise out to celebrate.

“I was planning on telling you when we got back to Draco’s.”

“We will celebrate! Tonight.” Draco said, so that Pansy wouldn’t have to and could continue to pretend indifference, like she preferred.  “This is amazing Pansy.” Draco said, walking into the next room of the tomb. The tomb had numerous chambers for each Pharaoh. This room had a small hole in the ceiling that splashed light onto a dark crystal in the center of the room. The crystal glittered, dark purple and black. The plaque speculated that the crystal was believed to focus the energy of the moon, to help the soul of the the dead take a solid form and walk on our plain once again.

“I know.” Pansy said, always humble.

“I can’t believe you were able to get us in here. They haven’t allowed the public down here for almost fifteen years.” Which was the reason that his parents hadn’t brought him. He believed that his dad was unable to pull enough strings or he was using his strings for other means and wasn’t willing to use one for such a thing.

“I wasn’t placed in Slytherin, just because I’m a pureblood darling.” Pansy said, looking pleased with herself.

“Another thing I can cross of my list.”

The List:

1. Find a cure for Rubert’s Disease
2. Move out of the manor
3. Go to a gay pub
4. Have a one night stand
5. Procure a moon rose bush for mother
6. Visit Ramses Tomb in Egypt
7. Get a pygmy puff
8. Go to a muggle moving picture
9. Get something pierced
10. Freeze sperm
11. Give to Pansy (a child with our genes would be unstoppable)
12. Start a foundation in the name of the last born Malfoy
13. Eat at Le Cinc
14. Take Pansy to that Swedish spa
15. Ride a hippogriff
16. Visit Atlantis
17. Master a wandless self transfiguration spell
18. Get my wand back from Harry Potter
19. Shag Harry Potter
20. Write a worded letter to Mr. Tensley

“Good Morning, Potter.” Draco greeted, not even bothering to take the time to lean on his desk. Potter looked up with a worried expression, as if he would be required to go to lunch again or fill out more paperwork.  “Don’t worry, nothing is required of you. I am just here to drop off the final list of your team.” Draco flicked his wand and a single piece of paper appeared on Potter’s desk. “I can’t stay to keep your day from getting droll. I have seven meetings today, starting with a promise to Pansy that I would take her to lunch.”

Potter’s eye’s scanned over the names of his teammates, only half listening to the words Draco was saying. So with a halfhearted good day, he headed towards the door. As his hand reached the handle Potter finally spoke.  “You’re on my team?” Draco had been unable to fill the final spot as keeper on short notice.

“That is correct.” He said, turning to face Potter. “You’ll find I’m an adequate keeper.”

“Hopefully you are a better keeper than seeker.”

“Hopefully you haven’t spent too much time sitting behind that desk, because if you recall I don’t like losing.”

“I would think you would be use to it.” Potter teased, Draco would’ve taken more defense if Potter wasn’t smiling at him, as if he were a...friend. Draco had gone in just wanting a one off, but now that he was spending time with a grown up Potter he was starting to think that he wanted more from him. He most definitely didn’t want a relationship. He wouldn’t put someone through that and from experience, feelings always seemed to just get in the way, but maybe it would be nice to not be...avoided by Potter.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve lost. I’ve gotten quite accustomed to getting exactly what I want.” Draco practically purred the last part, before turning and letting the door fall closed behind him. Let Potter think on that.

“I think you might be right.” Harry commented out of the blue. He shuffled a piece of fish around on his plate, in a distracted manner.

“Right abough wa?” Ron asked, his words muffled by a large bite of fish.

“About Malfoy.”

“Are you still dwelling on that article, mate?”

“No.” Harry assured, “He came by the office today and when he was leaving he said something and it, I think he was flirting.”

“What did he say?”

Harry blushed at the thought of repeating it, “Well it wasn’t really what he said so much, more of how he said it. In an insinuating way I suppose.”

“What did he come by for anyways? To ask you to dinner or something, because mate, that's not insinuating.”

“No.” Harry scowled at his friend, as if he could judge Harry about being a little thick when it came to these matters. Harry wanted to say ‘Remember fourth year?'  “He dropped off a list of my teammates.”

“Anyone I know?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, your brother’s a beater and Malfoy is going to be the keeper.”

“He’s on your team. Dang then you won’t be able to beat him.”  There was a pause where both just ate quietly, then Ron chuckled.  “He’s made it to where you will be forced to spend more time with him. Now he will see you at the practices too.”

“That’s a stretch. It’s one thing to flirt a little, but I don’t think he’s setting up some sort of elaborate plan, just to spend time with me. I doubt he likes me that much.”

“This is Malfoy were talking about. Making plans was an extracurricular activity in school.”

“He’s an adult, adults are too busy for such nonsense.”

“You are too busy, that doesn’t mean a jobless, bachelor like Malfoy is too busy.”

Harry rolled his eyes, thinking it was still a stretch.  After another pause, he finally asked, “What should I do? About Malfoy. Should I say something to him?"

Ron shrugged, “I dunno. Is it making you uncomfortable?”

“Not really.” Harry admitted, “I mean it’s a bit strange. We never got along in school, why all of a sudden would he begin flirting with me?”

“Dunno Mate. Maybe in school, his fighting with you was his way of flirting. And now he’s older, he’s figured out there’s a better way.”

Harry laughed, “That’s absurd.”

“He’s not a bad looking bloke. Maybe you should ask him to dinner.”

“That’s even more absurd. Me and Malfoy on a date!” Harry eyed Ron, expecting him to laugh at his own joke, but he didn’t. Instead he just shoved another large bite of food into his mouth to avoid having to say more, but Harry couldn’t believe Ron of all people would suggest such a thing. He hated Malfoy. Didn’t he?  “I should date Malfoy. Would serve you right for suggesting it. I would bring him along when we hangout, and to dinners at the Burrow. We could all go out on double dates.” Harry gave Ron a wide grin, all teeth, raising his brows as if this were an evil plan, worthy of the twins. 

He was expecting a horrified reaction from Ron at the thought of it, but his friend seemed to be doing the opposite today and shrugging said, “Mate, if it got you to start getting out more, I’d greet Malfoy with a smile and a handshake.”

Harry’s brows furrowed. Was he really that much a recluse? He went out with Ron for lunch all the time and went over to Ron and Mione’s house for dinner regularly. And granted it had been awhile since he went to the Burrow, but...he liked to spend Sunday’s at home and catch up on housework and paperwork. What was wrong with that?
“I didn’t realize I needed to get out so desperately.” Harry commented, bringing a flush to Ron’s face.

“Well, you seem to get wrapped up in work and I know at first you didn’t like going out because of the attention, but your only 23-not-53!”

Harry cringed. “Well, I’ll try to get out more.” He finally conceded.

“Ginny owled me tickets to her next game, this weekend.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun.”

Ron smiled, looking happy that Harry was going to go with him and Hermione. It would feel just like old times.
“I do have an extra ticket, if you want to invite Malfoy.” Harry shot his head back up, in surprise and Ron busted out laughing. This time only joking.

“Very Funny.”

Draco was surprised to wake up to an owl, quietly watching him in his sleep. Usually owls were not so patient and made annoying noises until the recipient woke and noticed them.  When the owl noticed Draco was awake it hopped over to him holding out it’s leg.  The paper was spelled to a small size, but as soon as Draco unrolled it, it sprang to a full sized sheet of paper. It was a detailed schedule, outlining practice dates and team meetings. Attached was also a play directory and a note requesting every player to get familiar with it before their first practice in three days.

“Glad Potter is taking this seriously.” Draco mumbled. Throwing the scroll to the side and giving his patient owl a stinky large cricket. They looked unappetizing, but he wasn’t an owl. The bird took it enthusiastically and Draco heard it crunch in its beak.  “Don’t eat that on my bed.” He commanded to the owl.

“I suppose I should get up and practice my flying.” He told the owl, who moved to the window to eat it’s reward. It wouldn’t do to look rusty in front of Potter. He might be trying to woo him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to be better than him still. And he was going to be as good a keeper as he was as a seeker and then he would be better than Potter, because Potter only played the one position. He smiled to himself looking forward to the fresh air and Potter grudgingly telling Draco that he was an amazing keeper.

Practice three days later, didn’t go as wonderful as Draco had daydreamed it in his head. It was pouring. And not a cool rain, but a hot muggy rain that left steam rolling off the players. Draco had cast a rain barrier spell, but soon removed it, he would rather be wet with rain than with sweat. But he was happy to show that he was able to block the goal, only a few quaffles managing to get by him. Finally Harry pulled them all into the cool locker room. He had signed out the ministry fields for their practices. Apparently being Harry Potter had its perks.

“Everyone did a great job, today. I think we have a real chance of winning this, but remember it is a charity so keep it clean. He shot a look at George Weasley. Who made a mock look of innocence. “I will see you all at practice next week. I will owl you all a few more plays and notes of things I noticed today at practice.”

Draco sat leaning against a locker, relaxed and listening. He had removed his hot robes, sitting in a thin t-shirt and dark grey jeans, that both clung to him. He had thought about casting a drying spell, but then decided not to, realizing what he must look like and hoping that Potter would take notice.  So far Potter hadn’t seemed to be looking at him much at all, and Draco was starting to think he was sitting wet and uncomfortable for nothing, but once everyone started shuffling out the door, Potter called, “eh, uh Draco. Can I have a word with you?”

Draco raised a brow, then without answering, sauntered back towards Potter.  “Uhm,” Potter said, looking down at his feet and looking slightly flushed. Since Harry wasn’t looking at him, Draco didn’t even bother trying to hide his smug smile. Finally, he thought.  “I was thinking that you could bring the uniforms next practice. So that everyone can get them sized before the game. If you’ve got them yet, that is.”

“I should have them by next practice.”

“Good.” Potter said, finally looking up at Draco and fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt. How could he stand to be wearing long sleeves? “That’s good.” Potter repeated.

“Anything else?” Draco asked, “That you might want?” Potter, stopped fidgeting and scowled at Draco. Making Draco wonder if he’d gone too far, but Potter seemed so thick, that he didn’t think that if he wasn’t more obvious he might not notice at all.

“No, uhm nothing else.” Potter said, and Draco shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Ok, see you next week than.” Draco drawled, and turned to leave, as soon as his back was turned, Potter blurted. “Would you want to go to a Harpies game?” Not exactly what Draco had in mind, but…
“Got an extra ticket and it would be good uhm to get ideas for the game.” When Draco turned, Potter looked very determined and Draco wanted to laugh. He looked like he had in fourth year, when facing the prospect of getting the golden egg from the dragon.

“I will have to check my schedule.” Draco waived an uninterested hand in the air, and in a bored tone said, “I’ll owl you.”

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Harry reprimanded himself, throwing himself onto his sofa face forward. Why had he thought it was a good idea to invite him to the game. Ron had been only joking, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Draco was standing there in front of him waiting for him to say something and he had managed to say something, but then he was going to leave and the words had just came out. He blamed it on the wet clothes that were sticking to Malfoy in an inappropriate way. Why would he wear that to play Quidditch in anyways. Everyone else had worn sweat pants and work out clothes under their robes. And Ron’s words kept running through his head, “He’s an attractive bloke.”
And Harry had to admit that he was and then once he noticed he couldn’t stop noticing, but just because someone is attractive doesn’t mean that you blurt out an invite to a game like an idiot. And Malfoy was an annoying git. Being flirty and then as soon as Harry asks him out, acting like he had better things to do.
“Stupid.” Harry muttered again.

“We’ve gathered.” Came Hermione’s voice.

Harry shot up, his hair sticking up everywhere, from the sweat, rain, and genetics.  “What? When did you guys get here?” He asked, looking between Ron and Hermione.

“We got here a little while before you did, Mate.” Ron said, holding a cookie in his hand. Long enough to raid his cabinets, Harry noticed.

“What happened?” Hermione sighed, sitting down, ready to do her best to right Harry’s mistakes and world if need be.

“Nothing!” Harry jumped to assure, not wanting to tell either one of them that he had asked Malfoy out, then getting pale at the thought. What if he said yes? Then they would know and he would have to go out with Malfoy. It took all his self control not to smack himself and say the word stupid again.

“Looks like nothing.” Ron said, looking like he was enjoying Harry’s mishap a little too much.

“I’m going to take a stab and guess this has something to do with Malfoy.” Hermione said, her voice calm.

“What? Why, would this have anything to do with Malfoy?” Harry asked, wondering how they had guessed.

“Because you had practice with him today.” Ron said, as if it were obvious, “Besides only Malfoy is obnoxious enough to make you get that look on your face.

“Fine. I invited him to the Harpies game this weekend.” Harry flashed Ron a look that asked, “Are you happy now?”
“Like you suggested.” Harry added, realizing this was all Ron’s fault made him feel a little better.

“And?” Hermione probed, not looking at all surprised.

“And he said he would check his schedule and owl me.” Harry said.

“And?” Hermione asked again, looking a little confused.

“And, he’s a git!” Harry spat. “He knows damn well what his schedule looks like. He’s just...purposefully annoying me.” Harry knew this.

Hermione waved a hand. “He doesn’t want to seem too eager. It’s not a big deal Harry.”

“I put myself out there and he doesn’t want to seem too eager.”

“You asked him to a game. Not dinner.” Hermione said, sitting up clearly this didn’t meet her standards of being considered a problem.

“She’s right.” Ron agreed.

“What if he says yes?” Harry asked, feeling pale.

“Isn’t that the point of asking?” Ron sounding as if that should be obvious.

“I didn’t think it through.” Harry said, “I’m going to have to sit through an entire game with him and it will probably be in the paper for some reason or another. And then Ginny will all want us to out afterwards for drinks and I will have to invite him to that too.”

“I see your point.” Ron said and Hermione shot him a look.

“But Harry, why’d you ask him to come if you didn’t want him to be there?” Hermione asked, looking exasperated that Harry would ask and not mean it.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Harry said, thinking about the hip bone that was visible through Malfoy’s shirt but he wasn’t going to mention it.

“Well, he will probably say yes, so you will just have to deal with it.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at both his friends. “Why aren’t you two upset?” He asked sitting up straighter and tossing the pillow off his lap. “I know I’ve been kind of a homebody, but...you guys hate Malfoy. So why are you okay with the fact that I invited him to the game and that you will both be forced to sit with him and go to drinks with him?”

“Hate? Honestly Harry. If you think Malfoy has changed enough to ask him out then he must have.” Hermione said, sounding reasonable.

Ron held his silence and shrugged awkwardly. Harry didn’t miss the telling sign that Ron wasn’t telling him something. Usually when Ron had something he wasn’t saying he over compensated by saying nothing. Harry leapt to his feet and side stepped Hermione to stand directly in front of Ron.  “What are you not telling me?” He was trying for demanding, but he only sounded obsessively curious. Please tell me everything you know about Draco, his tone pleaded.

Ron shrugged again and mumbled. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just stupid to hold onto grudges. We all did things during the war we aren’t proud of.”
“Yeah, but not holding a grudge is different than being okay with your best mate dating the person.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Ron repeated, “Besides it was obvious that you liked him. You haven’t shut up about him in weeks.”

Harry took a second to look offended before asking, “What’s not a big deal? I’ll decide for myself.”

“He came to Fred’s funeral.” Ron finally admitted. Harry paused for a moment that hadn’t been what he was expecting.

“I didn’t see him there.” And Harry would have definitely noticed Malfoy.

“He was wearing a glamour.”

“Then how did you know it was him?” Hermione asked, making Harry feel better that this was the first time she was hearing this as well.

“I didn’t figure it out until about a month later. But while at the funeral there was a boy about our age that I didn’t recognize, but there was something about him that seemed familiar. He hung in the back and he didn’t say anything to anyone except for my mum. I was standing near by when he approached her. He gave her a Remembrall and told her ‘For when you are afraid you are forgetting.’ Well I couldn’t place his voice at the time either. But my mum she likes to take it out from time to time.” Ron said sounding quieter than before as if picturing his mom. The image of Ron’s mom crying, holding a Remembrall came to mind.

It must have for Hermione as well, because her eyes filled up with tears. “Oh, Ron.” she said, putting a hand on his back.

“I found the ball on the kitchen table one morning and well it helps you remember things and I remembered that Draco took Neville’s Remembrall in first year. I think it was the same one.” Ron said looking around to see if this news had sunk in. “Also once I put two and two together, I recognized his voice.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Harry asked, he didn’t know what he would have done if anything differently with this knowledge but it would have been nicer to know that Draco wasn’t a complete git sooner.

“I didn’t think about it. And Fred’s funeral wasn’t something I wanted to bring up at the time.” Harry could tell that it still wasn’t and was sorry for pushing him into talking about it now.

“So no one else knows?” Harry asked.

“Only George. He was sitting at the table with me.”

“That explains why he agreed to participate in the Quidditch game.” Harry had been surprised when he had seen his name on the list of his team.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

A silence fell over the three of them as they stood in Harry’s sitting room all in their own heads. Hermione finally broke the silence. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah. See you two later.” Harry walked them to the floo.

“Let us know what Malfoy says about going to the game.” Hermione said making her face more cheerful than Harry knew she was feeling.

“Sure. Night guys.”

Draco adjusted the collar of the dark green robes he was wearing. It was nice to have an excuse to wear green again; he wanted to show his support for the Harpies since he was going to be sitting on their side. He wore a black muggle t shirt underneath he thought it would appeal to Harry’s tastes. He did ask him to the game after all when he was wearing a muggle shirt and jeans.

Harry was going to meet him here and they would apparate together to the game. Draco fidgeted with a piece of hair that was out of place, feeling nervous and then feeling ridiculous with himself for feeling nervous. What would Potter’s friends say, what would the Weaslette say after the game? The media would say something cruel he was sure, suggest that perhaps Draco had cursed him somehow or slipped something into his drink or food. But none of that mattered. He was getting closer to his goal and then he could cross something off his list and besides. He wouldn’t have to listen to anyone for long. He only had four years left to live. And by god when he was gone, Harry Potter would remember him by something other than all the mistakes he made at school. Draco would make sure of that. It would be a night to remember.

“Lo” Draco heard, and rushed into the other room. Harry’s head was in the flames of the fireplace, waiting for permission to come the rest of the way through.

“Come through.”

Potter stumbled only slightly upon landing in Draco’s living room. A small thing that gave away that he wasn’t born into the wizarding world. He was wearing full muggle attire, but Draco had to admit for once he didn’t look frumpy. His dark green jacket was fitted and brought the green out in his eyes, and his jeans showed that he was fit below the waist as well as above.

“You look nice Harry.” Draco praised, using his first name for an extra touch. A light blush formed on his cheeks and he looked down at his shoes, seeming embarrassed by the compliments

“Er, thanks. You...do too. Look nice. I guess you always look nice though.” Potter’s eyes went wide, as if surprised that he had said that. Causing Draco’s smirk, to turn into an actual smile.

“I know, but it’s nice to know that you noticed as well.”  This won him an eye roll, and Draco chuckled. This was actually easier than he had expected. He felt calm and relaxed. He walked up to Potter boldly and ran his arm through his.  “Shall we be on our way then?” He asked, and felt Potter tighten his arm before he apparated them away.

The game was crowded as expected. Potter, lead Draco through the crowd, placing a gentle hand on his back from time to time. Draco liked the feel of it. Along with the feel of the eyes on them as they passed by, probably wondering what the Chosen One was doing with the likes of Draco, but he didn’t care. He was Potter’s chosen company today. He didn’t even feel disgruntled about having to spend the day with Granger and Weasel. The two bounced up from their seats when they spotted Draco and Potter, waiving them over. They smiled broadly at their friend, their smile stiffened when they turned their attention on Draco, but is seemed more out of uncertainty of how Draco would interact with them, then out of any sort of malice or dislike.

Draco put on an easy smile, getting along with Potter’s best mates would be a big step in the right direction.  “Hello, Weasley and Granger.” He greeted holding a hand out. Both accepted his hand with a shake, Granger's a little firmer than Weasley's, Draco noted.

“Call me Hermione.”

Draco nodded, “Then call me Draco.”

Draco chanced a look at Potter. He looked surprised, but pleased and his hand returned to his back, as if rewarding him for his good behavior. “Let's take a seat.” Potter suggested leaning to speak in Draco's ear. Draco could get used to being on the arm per say of Harry Potter. But he wouldn’t he firmly reminded himself. This, whatever it was would be was just short term.

“The first round is on me.” Draco volunteered, and Harry wondered how after only a few hours Malfoy had become Draco in his head. It was surprising how much fun he had at the game with Draco’s running commentary and witty remarks. They were much more humorous Harry decided when they weren’t directed at him. Draco brushed the hair that had fallen forward over his left eye, out of his face, and back into place. It stayed, making Harry wonder if he had used wandless magic to make it do so, or if it was just trained so well, that it dare not disobey him. Either way, after hours at the game, with the wind and heat, Draco looked, gorgeous. It wasn’t fair that he should look better as the day goes on, instead of worse. Harry didn’t think that was his case, he feared going to the loo to check, sure he looked a mess.

“Ginny!” He heard his friends greet, with the enthusiasm to portray their joy for her that she won. Harry turned his attention from Draco making his way gracefully to the bar, not without disappointment, and greeted Ginny with the other two.

“Congrats, Ginny.” Harry said, standing to wrap her into a sisterly hug. She patted his shoulder in return a large grin on her face. They had managed to stay friends after their breakup. They had gone through a rough patch for a moment, but then Harry had realized why he didn’t want her and when he had finally confessed, it was a relief to both of them. Harry didn’t have to feel guilty and Ginny didn’t have to feel inadequate and then she had got the position on the Harpies. She had confessed to Harry one night that she was glad they had broke up. She didn’t really want the strain of a relationship, while traveling and trying to get her Quidditch career off the ground.

She punched him hard in the shoulder, “Draco Malfoy! Harry, you have almost unlimited options and you choose, Malfoy.”

“Shh.” Harry said, looking over his shoulder, hoping Draco hadn’t heard her, but he was still across the room, their drinks being loaded onto a tray.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, you have always seemed to have a thing for blondes and you were always obsessed with him at school.” She continued, her eyes watching Draco over Harry’s shoulder.  “He better treat you good, or else.” She said, her eyes, sharpening into a threatening glare.

“It’s not like that. We aren’t seeing each other or anything.”

“Mate this is a date.” Ron said, Hermione nodding her head in agreement.

“Stop eavesdropping.” Ginny ordered, her older brother. “But Harry this is a date.”

“Shh.” Harry said, again looking around. He didn’t need other patrons of the establishment hearing too and running to the paper.  “I’m not sure it is and he’s coming back. So please be...be cool.”

“Try taking your own advice.” Ginny muttered.

Harry wished he could, but being cool really wasn’t something he was good at.  Draco was though. He was calm and collected as he passed the drinks around, he had even got an extra, for Ginny, noticing her arrival while up at the bar. He had sat down in the seat next to Harry and had casually let his leg, just touch his. Harry’s heart had raced at the gesture as the word date, kept running through his head, making his palms sweaty. It had been a very long time since Harry had been on a date and he had never been good at dating. He hadn’t been good at dating girls and if he had thought for a moment it might be easier with blokes, that idea was soon shattered. 

After a few drinks it had been easier for Harry to relax. Draco was easy to relax around. He smelled good too. Harry found himself leaning in to talk to him, for no other reason than to smell the scent of his shampoo. By the end of the night, Harry wasn’t even pretending that he was interested in his friends. His arm was resting over the back of Draco’s chair as he listened intently as Draco detailed a recent trip to the tombs in Egypt. Harry had never traveled, but he suddenly wanted to and if Draco happened to be there, even better. Harry spread his attention between listening to the words and watching the words leave his mouth, his sweet, kissable mouth. Harry didn’t know for sure what his mouth tasted like, but Draco had been drinking on apple martini’s all night and his imagination had filled in many details for him.

“One more.” Ron suggested, and Hermione kicked him under the table. Or Harry assumed she had, based on years of knowing Hermione’s expressions and body language. And Ron’s quick retraction of the offer.  “Another day, I mean. Er, we should all have one more, another night, all together.” Ron rambled, a little worse for the drink.

“Yes. This has been surprisingly fun.” Draco said, his voice taking on a superior drawl, that Harry found funny, instead of annoying and heard himself giggle before he was able to stop himself.

“I would like to hear about the runes in the tombs in more detail, when my brain isn’t addled with liquor.” Hermione said, Harry shot her a look of thanks at drawing the attention away from him for a moment. So he could try to get his head back on straight and not make a complete fool of himself, when he asked Draco if he wanted to go back to his place. Harry took a deep breath and sat up straight, fighting to sober up. Not that he was drunk or anything, just tipsy off drink and Draco.

“I’ve had a bit much, to apparate I think.” Draco said, as they stepped outside of the pub. The air had cooled off and helped refresh Harry.

“I could apparate you home if you wanted.” Harry volunteered, saving himself from having to ask Draco to his place after all. Perhaps that was Draco’s plan all along, he was devious like that. Harry got the feeling that every move he made tonight was somehow orchestrated by Draco, which only made Harry want him more.

“Thank you.” Draco said, stepping closer than he had earlier when they had apparated to the game. He looped his arm through Harry’s and Harry felt his fingers intertwine with his. It was bloody distracting. Harry let out a breath and focused all his attention on getting Draco back to his flat in one piece. Harry didn’t think Draco would be impressed much if he got splinched.

They landed in the room Harry had flood to earlier. It was more modern than Harry expected. Malfoy brought to mind old money, like Malfoy manor with rich woods and furniture meant for appearances not use. Draco's flat was simple and cozy with clean white walls and trim. Splashes of color coming from the furniture and decorations.
Draco released his arm upon arrival, but not before running his hand up Harry’s arm in a seductive manner that he hoped he wasn't imagining.

“A drink?” Draco swept across the room to a buffet cabinet with multiple crystal decanters on it and glasses. Without waiting for a response he filled two glasses half up. He took a seat down on the settee placing the drinks on the table in front of him and patting the cushion next to him, inviting Harry to come sit next to him. Harry took up the offer with pleasure. Sitting next to Draco seemed like a wonderful place to be at the moment or possibly any moment.

Harry was unsure of what to say once he was seated and tried for small talk. “Nice place you have here.” It sounded lame to his own ears and he felt his face flush when Draco let out a snort.

“I think we are past the small talk stage. Don’t you?” Draco’s voice sounded low and Harry felt his stomach flutter. Draco reached forward to grab the two glasses of liquor off the table using the action to draw even nearer to Harry, his leg was now pressing against Harry’s. And his elegant figures brushed Harry’s when he handed Harry his own glass. 

“To...the Harpies.” Draco toasted, a secret smile on his face, that had Harry finishing the timed pause with a number of his own imaginative endings. His throat suddenly dry, he took a big gulp of his drink. Letting the warmed, sweet brandy slide down his throat slowly. Draco never gulped anything, his manners never left him when it came to food and drink as far as Harry had noticed. Draco took another sip while Harry watched his mouth on the glass with new interest, all attention to his own drink gone. He hadn’t even noticed that he had replaced his onto the table until Draco had followed his lead and put his own down as well. Without thought and with a boldness that surprised even himself, Harry leaned forward pressing his mouth to Draco's. Harry was never one to make the first move, always feeling shy and unsure when it came to this sort of thing. But that was one thing he could say he never felt around Draco. Annoyed, suspicious, angry and now desire, but never unsure. Draco always pulled a brazen confidence out of Harry when he was involved and now wasn't any different.

Harry ran his hands through the silky strands of hair at the base of Draco's neck, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper, his mouth tasting like a mixture of apple and brandy. The soft groan that Harry heard come from Draco was perfect. Harry pulled back slightly from the kiss to gauge Draco’s reaction. His reaction was to push Harry back into the settee with both the force of his own kiss and the use of both hands splayed against his chest. Harry found himself with a lap full of Draco, his legs straddling him on both sides. And all his senses going into overdrive and loving every second of it. If only he had realized sooner that spending time with Draco could be like this.

Harry woke up in the most comfortable bed, tangled in the softest sheets and blankets he'd ever felt. He hadn't even known such materials existed in the world, but up until last night he also had never known that sex could be like that. He stretched out wondering where Draco had gone and then wondering where his clothes had gone. He did manage to find his glasses and his wand.

He summoned his clothes and climbed out of bed begrudgingly. His clothes felt like he was pulling on a canvas bag compared to the sheets he was leaving.
He wandered down the hall poking his head in the open doors, but none of them were fostering his missing blonde.
His searching did find an intriguing room. Harry stepped into the room his eyes taking in the small room, small comparatively speaking. It had a large map across one wall, a large plush couch along another, and centered on the wall directly across from the door was a pale-modern looking desk. Harry walked to the map and the world map zoomed in, bringing London into focus. The streets stretched out from Harry's location.

“Berlin” Harry spoke out loud and the map’s image transformed from London into the city of Berlin. Grinning Harry left the map and walked to the desk wondering what kind of wood it was built from. When he looked back at the map it had resumed the image of the whole world again. Harry ran a hand over the wood admiring the smooth texture. A piece of paper sitting on top caught Harry's attention because his name was clearly written twice. He picked it up and read over the itemized list.

Hmmhmm came the sound of someone clearing their throat. Harry had a flash of embarrassment at being caught for lack of better words snooping, but he hadn't meant to. He had been looking for Draco and found...embarrassment was replaced with anger.

“Leaving you alone for 5 minutes to get coffee and breakfast was not an invitation to go through my things Potter.” Draco drawled sounding only mildly irritated.

Harry turned his angry gaze on Draco, who had a tray of food and drinks floating behind him. The fact that he looked even more attractive with his hair unfixed and shirt casually untucked only managed to make Harry angrier. “What is this?” Harry demanded, the paper crinkling in his fist.

Draco had slipped his wand out, a habitual reaction to Harry's body language and facial expression. Harry noticed Draco's shoulders relax and with a precise flick of his wrist the paper disappeared from Harry's hand.  “None of your business is what that is.” Draco answered his expression going cold and blank. “I will see you out now. You can take your breakfast to go.”

“None of my...it has...it says. That's what all this was about crossing me off a list?” It hurt worst hearing it out loud. “Keep your bloody breakfast, Malfoy. I'll see myself out.” Harry stormed past him. Malfoy trailed him, probably not trusting Harry not to pick anything else up. Harry swung the door open he could apparate but there was something satisfying about getting the chance to storm from a room.

“By the way I don't have your wand. If I did I would've returned it by now. I turned it over to the ministry at their request.” With that said Harry slammed the door with a satisfactory thunk, took a deep breath, and apparated home.

Harry didn't leave his flat the entire day, blocking his floo for extra measures. The last thing he needed was someone mentioning Malfoy to him. He didn't think he could be held responsible for what would happen to them under the circumstances. The more he thought about it, the more all the pieces seemed to fall into place. The plotting, the persuasion, the entire Quidditch charity event! Draco was a ridiculous git. He'd always been one. Why had Harry ever thought he had changed?

The sun went down finally and Harry was contemplating taking a sleeping drought and tucking into bed when a pop sounded from the kitchen. Harry groaned, but headed into the kitchen. It couldn’t be helped.  Ron’s lower half was the only part visible of him the upper bent into the fridge.

“Doesn’t Hermione feed you at your place?”

Ron jumped and came out of the fridge with a can of soda and a grin.  “She refuses to keep soda in the house. Something about the sugar and acid rotting your teeth.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“She still uses a toothbrush.” Ron said, sounding like Harry was the only one he could trust to confide this with.

“Er.”

“Not you too mate?”

“They feel cleaner and fresher than charming them clean.” Harry said.

“That’s what Mione says.” Ron said, shaking his head as if surrounded by fools. “She actually brushes them and then charms them too.”

Harry shrugged, not seeing a problem.  The conversation stalled for a moment and Harry desperately wanted to continue talking about teeth anything to avoid talking about what Harry knew was coming next.

Both Harry and Ron spoke at the same time.

Harry trudging on with, “I do both sometimes.” Sounding a bit desperate and too loud to his own ears.

And Ron asking, “Did you see the paper today?”

“I’ve been purposefully avoiding the paper today.” Harry admitted.

“Oh.” Ron said, and maybe seeing something in Harry’s eyes or hearing something in his tone. He for once didn’t drag the paper, he knew Ron was carrying on his person, out to force Harry to read about himself on the front page. “Nothing interesting.” Ron said, which Harry knew was a lie, but appreciated it nonetheless.

Harry nodded, feeling grateful for his friendship with Ron.  “There never is.” Harry said.

The two of them stood in comfortable silence, Ron drinking his canned beverage.  “Well I wasn’t really planning on staying long.” Ron said, taking his last gulp.

Harry nodded and asked, “Lunch tomorrow.”

“Sure thing mate.” Ron agreed.

Before Ron apparated away Harry asked him, “What’s Rubert’s Disease?”

Saying Harry didn’t sleep well, was an understatement. Harry tossed and turned all night, his mind taking turns: evaluating what happened with Malfoy, arguing with itself that he didn’t care, and running what Ron said about the life threatening Rubert’s Disease, which then led to wondering about why Malfoy would have a bucket list anyways. Oh and the occasional and very, very unhelpful replay of the night he had spent with Draco.

Harry took a pepper up potion before leaving the house for work and tucked a second one in his pocket. He would need it.
Once he made it to the ministry he was greeted by cat calls from Dean and for some reason Ginny. He wanted to go home and owl a sick note to his boss. It wouldn’t be a lie, he was feeling rather ill.

“Rumor to fact! Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are dating.” Dean said, his voice taking on the tone of a news reporter off the telly.

Ginny giggled and with the same tone added. “Eyewitnesses say that Harry Potter took Malfoy home, apparating them both after leaving the bar arm in arm.”

Harry groaned and snapped. “They need to learn what fact means. We are not dating.”

“Trouble in paradise? That didn’t last long.” Ginny said, not sounding at all surprised.

“We went to a Quidditch game and I’m participating in a charity. That is it.”

Ginny looked at him, without blinking and handed him the copy of the paper she was holding. Dean started to say something, but Ginny pulled him away by the arm to give Harry a moment to soak up the horror that was the front page of the paper.  There was a picture of Harry and Draco at the pub taking up almost the entire front page, featuring Harry leaning with his elbow on the table, absorbed in what Draco was saying. The picture focused on Harry, so he couldn’t see much of Draco at the moment, but he had a secretive smirk on his face. Well, Harry knew what the secret was now. Harry looked like a love sick puppy in the picture and hated it. Why had his friends let him drink so much? Why had they let him...look so...so...happy. Harry admitted, he looked happy in the picture. He had been happy. Draco was good company when he wanted to be. When he had an agenda Harry reminded himself, snapping himself back to reality.

He vanished the paper and walked to his department. He’d survived worse. He would just pretend it was the alcohol and nothing else.

An owl arrived for him when he was out to lunch with Ron. Harry recognized the bird as Malfoy's, his owl would bypass the mail forwarding ward. The owl didn’t wait for a treat. It dropped the letter in his lap without even bothering to land and continued on its way.

“Are you going to open it?” Ron asked.

Harry picked the letter up, his curiosity finally getting the best of him and he broke the wax seal.

Harry,

I feel it best to get directly to the point. I believe that we might have had a misunderstanding of sorts. I am able to admit that I did not handle the situation the other morning to the best of my abilities and something that my family’s name sake pride themselves on is composure. I know what you read, I know why it caught your attention, and I can only assume what you must be thinking about all of this.

I would like to start by clearing my attentions. They were not so sinister as you are probably attributing to them. Secondly I would like to apologize, something that I don’t do often. If you are wondering why I didn’t start with the apology, it is because I didn’t think it would be received as genuine if you had felt that my actions were with malicious intent. I am not sorry for what happened. I am sorry for not being more open with my expectations. Last night was a one time thing. I am not looking for a relationship, nor strings of any sort. But I had hoped that we could move on from our childhood rivalry with the semblance of a friendship of sorts. I enjoyed getting to know you and not the version that I had formed of you through teenage distorted eyes.   I hope that I can trust you to be discreet about what you read. I wish to keep certain things private.

And lastly I hope that you will not back out of the charity event. It would be very difficult to replace the captain and seeker this close to the event. And you must think about the orphaned children. Teddy has front row tickets and is very excited to see you play.

If you wish to talk about this farther. You may contact me and we can meet. Otherwise I will see you at the next practice.

DM

Harry read over the letter twice, despite the considerable length. He didn’t know what to make of it. It said a lot, all while emitting a lot more. And the very end guilt tripping him with Teddy and orphaned children. He had some nerve.

“Well?” Ron finally asked, looking as if the curiosity was going to kill him.

“It’s from Malfoy.” Harry said.

“It’s Malfoy now?” Ron asked, raising a brow, as if to ask, “Bad news?”

Harry handed the letter to Ron to read, not that he would understand the cryptic words. He knew less than Harry about the situation. Ron’s eyes darted across the paper, absorbing the words with a wide eyed expression, very Hermione like.

“A one night stand!” Ron blurted out. “That Arsehole.”

Ssshhh. Harry tried to shush Ron. The last thing he needed was another article in the paper with the head line: The Chosen One’s, One Night.
Ron looked around as if he expected a reporter to be sitting at the adjacent table, smiling with their camera out.

“Sorry mate.” Ron said, lowering his voice.

“That’s okay.” He said, taking the offered letter back from Ron and stuffing it in his pocket.

“You’re going to have to come over for dinner tonight and explain what happened.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he could use some advice. Because he had no clue what to do or what to make of Draco and this letter.

Harry had taken a long lunch and was thinking he would probably leave work early today. There really was no point in staying and fighting with his mind to do work it wasn’t able to at the moment. The elevator stopped on just about every floor on his way back to his department. Five floors to go and the elevator stopped to let Pansy Parkinson onto it. She gave him a cold, accusing look, but said nothing.

“Pansy.” Harry greeted her, trying to be as casual as he could muster.

“Potter.” Pansy drawled, as if all Slytherins had gotten lessons from Snape on the proper way to truly make his name sound like it was the most offensive word in the wizarding world.

It was the longest minute Harry had experienced in a very long time. The two of them both standing stiff, with things they wanted to say, but refused, while heading to the same floor. When the door swung open Harry rushed out. That was it. He was going home. What was Pansy so mad about anyway? Draco was the one in the wrong. Not Harry.

Draco never received a direct response to his letter to Harry, but he had gotten an owl the following day with notes about his previous Quidditch practice and a few more plays that he was expected to familiarize himself with before the next practice in three days. The notes were direct and unbiased, which he supposed was the best he could expect. Harry wasn’t going to withdraw from the charity and although short, the notes were professional and lacked any kind of malice. Draco read over the plays once more, before sighing and tossing them onto his desk. His attention going to the list that was sitting on the edge of his desk. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to crossing item 19 off of it. The entire list suddenly made him furious.

It had been a drunkenly made attempt at coping with the horrible news that he survived the war only to die in five short years by the ancient, Rubert’s Disease. Which wasn’t a disease at all, but a curse. He didn’t know why it was named as such or why someone thought of all the surviving death eaters he should be the one to curse. It was a nasty thing. The cursee had to take their own life to complete the curse, there for making it irreversible, for only the person who cast the curse could undo it. The only sign of the curse is a red ring around the cursed throat a constant reminder that time was ticking. Then when time was up the curse choked the life out of the person. It was debated as to why the cursed was given five years. Some speculated that it was to torture the person even more. To give them false hope that maybe they could be the one to find a counter unlike so many before them had failed. Others theorized that perhaps it was a chance to right the wrongs the person had committed in their life and that the cure lied in that small hint. If the cursed could feel true remorse for their actions then the curse would be lifted.

Draco tried not to think about it all. Most the time he preferred to forget about it and had managed to invent a glamour that covered the telling red ring for long periods of time. Out of sight out of mind. He removed the glamour and looked at the curse marring his pale neck. Tonight he was leaning towards the torture hypothesis. His bucket list mocking him from the edge of his desk. The paper went up in flames and Draco blinked surprisingly at it before jumping to put it out so that his whole desk wouldn’t go up in flames. It had been a long time since he had done accidental magic. The only item left on the list was ironically find a cure for Rubert’s Disease.

“Uncle Harry!” Harry turned to see Teddy running to greet him. His hair matching the shade of green of Harry’s team colors, leaving no doubt as to whose side he was on. “I know you and Draco will kick butt.” Teddy leapt up into Harry’s arms almost knocking him over with his enthusiasm.

“Probably.” Harry said, trying for humble, but knowing they would most likely win. His team had come together last practice, better than he had ever expected. Even Draco was doing better than their first practice, if he was as distracted as Harry he was hiding it well. He hadn’t let a single quaffle by on the last practice. Frankly, at this point Harry was the weakest link, but he would pull it together, no matter how much he wanted to obsess over Draco.

Harry had been surprised when he showed up to the second practice wearing actual training gear. The color plain brown and his shirt loose fitting, hauling a bundle of pads behind him. The most surprising thing of all was the bright red ring around his neck that he wasn’t even trying to cover. Harry had painstakingly been reading everything written about Rubert’s disease and the sight of the cursed ring left him unsettled. Draco had looked confident and determined when he entered and Harry had later admitted he had looked even better than usual, when it was clear that for once he wasn’t even trying to.

Teddy’s eyes widened, his teal eyebrows raising in excitement as he pointed excitedly at an over-sized stuffed dragon as it came charging out of the locker room. Harry smirked and wondered if it had been Draco’s idea. Instead of flames the stuffed dragon blew bubbles out of its mouth. Teddy twisted in Harry’s arms to face Andromeda.

“Grandma, that’s what I want for Christmas this year!” Almost bouncing out of Harry’s arms in his enthusiasm.

“Where would we put it?” She asked, sounding both humored and scared that she would end up with a giant stuffed dragon at her house.

“Uncle Harry could shrink it and it could stay with my other stuffed animals.” Teddy turned his attention back to Harry. “Right?” Harry looked between Teddy’s hopeful face and Andromeda’s wondering what the right answer was.

“I could but...then the dragon would be sad it was forced to be so small. It’s probably best to leave it with Draco and maybe you can just go see it from time to time.”

Teddy looked thoughtful for a moment, but the excuse must have worked because he jumped into the next topic with his usual six year old attention span. “That would be fun. Did you know that Draco means Dragon.” And so on and so on. Teddy filled Harry in on everything he knew about his cousin Draco, apparently he did go visit Teddy and his aunt. Making Harry glad that he had partaken in the charity, because Harry had no doubt that Draco would have spun Harry’s decline to make him look bad and he could only imagine the look Teddy would make when he asked him, why he didn’t want to help orphaned kids, like him. Draco really was an arse.

An arse with a nice arse, Harry admitted before looking away. Not knowing if he was more angry at Draco for the list or for the fact that he now couldn’t stop looking and thinking about him and he couldn’t have him because Draco had said he was only interested in a one off. Or himself for not being able to stop.

“You’re looking in a right cheerful mood today.” George commented, sounding cheerful enough for the both of them. “We’re getting ready to play a game of Quidditch which you love, for a charity that is for an actual good cause. So what’s up with “ George pushed his eyebrows together into an exaggerated scowl. Harry knew his face didn’t look like that. He might look a bit more serious than usual, but he was not scowling. At the moment.

“You know I don’t like large crowds.” Harry wasn’t lying either. He had already shook what had to be fifty people’s hands before he was able to escape to the locker room.

“Just think of each person in the stands as twenty pounds going towards orphaned children.”

“I just wish I could go out and play and not have to talk to any of them.”

“Just wait until the fancy dinner afterwards. You won’t have a locker room to hide in then.” George said with an evil grin.

“I would rather not.” Harry said, sounding pained.

Draco let the warm water run over him. Unfortunately he only had thirty minutes before he needed to be at the dining hall before the guests started to arrive. He would love nothing more than to spend at least that much time working the tension out of his sore muscles, but after the match he was obligated to stick around with the rest of the team for a few pictures.  They had won as Draco had expected. Both teams had played well making for an entertaining game and then Harry had caught the snitch recklessly diving low to the ground, one knee actually skidded across the grass. Perhaps that was why Harry made a better Seeker, because Draco wasn’t dumb enough to attempt harming himself for a game.

After their victory the entire team had huddled together in excitement and comradery. Hugging and cheering. It was fun until he was forced to come face to face with Harry, whose face turned red as he awkwardly stumbled his way through giving Draco a pat on the shoulder and a job well done. Draco rolled his eyes just thinking about it. Harry wasn’t going to just let this go, he was going to make it a drawn out process of stuttered ers and stiff shoulders and instead of avoiding Draco he would be all Gryffindor about it and most likely go out of his way just to prove something that Draco wouldn’t even begin to understand. Draco caught the left side of his mouth begin to rise, but he put a stop to the motion before it was able to become a full blown smile. He huffed and shut the water off, before stepping out of the shower. He cast a quick drying charm and rushed to get dressed.

Draco showed up with five minutes to spare and enough time to do a walkabout to make sure all last minute details were in order. Nothing was out of place, not that he expected they would. Pansy had came straight here after the game; she had a sharp eye and no trouble bossing Draco’s temporary staff around as if they were her own. She handed him a glass of wine when he made his way back to her.

“I see you are not glamouring that anymore.” She said, giving the red ring a disdainful look.

“Don’t see the point.”

She let out a huff. “This doesn’t have something to do with Potter does it?”

“Why would it?”

“I most certainly don’t know why, but it usually does when it comes to you acting neurotic.” She waved her free hand around the room as if it held proof to his behavior.

“That was different and need I remind you of last New Year’s.”

“Not if you want my continued support.” The change in Pansy’s expression was subtle, and most likely would have gone unnoticed by most, but Draco was an expert on Pansy’s expressions. He didn’t miss the flash of warning in her blue eyes. She hated it when Draco brought up New Year’s. It had been a monumental failure. If there was one thing that the two of them had most in common it was their inability to accept losing.

“I’m sorry.” He said, speeding through his apology, he also hated saying sorry, but Pansy was a friend and wouldn’t dwell on it. “This has nothing to do with Potter. I just don’t see why I should hide it. To spare others? To pretend it isn’t there? I don’t care to do either.”

Pansy was silent for a moment, he could tell she was sifting through and analyzing each word. Finally she took a sip of her wine. “Darling this wine is fabulous. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it before.”

“I had it imported from Italy. It’s up and coming.”

The dinner was a success and now people were left to drink too much and mingle. This was usually Draco’s favorite part, but he just couldn’t muster up his usual enjoyment that came with social scheming. He was on his third glass of wine and was feeling content to stand back and watch from the warm wine haze he was in. As usual though his plan was ruined by no other than Potter, he was also a few glasses in Draco had noted. It also hadn’t passed his attention that Potter kept watching him, which wasn’t an uncommon habit of his. Draco felt like he was back at school, with Potter’s suspicious eyes following him around the room and himself trying to pretend like he didn’t notice Potter at all. It had seemed to be working like it had in the past, that was until Potter broke with habit and approached him. Draco had of course taken the rational path and had fled to the men’s room before Potter had gotten a chance to release his wrath upon him. If his eyes were any indication, and Draco felt like they were, than he was in for a not so pleasant conversation about the other night. Not that he didn’t expect it. Potter wouldn’t be able let it go and so conversation would be unavoidable and most likely yelling and the discussion of feelings. Something Draco liked even less than apologizing. It maybe unavoidable but it could be delayed.

From the safety of the men’s room lounge Draco splashed his face with some cool water. He had just reached for a fresh warm towel from the basket to dab the droplets away when Potter came barreling through the door. He came to a sudden stop in the middle of the door, blocking Draco’s escape.

“Potter.” Draco drawled, in greeting before lifting the towel gingerly to his face.

“Why did you run in here to avoid me?” Harry asked, with about as much subtlety as ever.

Draco dropped the towel onto the counter and turned with an expression of offense on his face. “Malfoy’s do not run.” He heaved his chest up with false bravado, giving Potter a practiced look of superiority.

“Then why did you walk in here to avoid me?” Potter asked, not seeming to be affected by Draco’s usual tactics.

“I simply came in here to freshen up. I was feeling stifled.” He fought the urge to lift his chin up even more and cross his arms across his chest. Instead he narrowed his eyes and asked, “Is there something you were in need of?” Potter’s earlier confidence seemed to disappear and a look of confusion crossed his face.  “It’s not a difficult question.” Draco patronized, old habits die hard.

“Er…” Potter’s shoulders slouched a little lower and he slid one toe of his shoe across the floor. Draco noticed that the leather was dull and scratched and he cringed internally. Another sign that Potter really needed someone in his life to pick his clothes out for him. “I was only going to say goodbye...before I left. I was getting ready to leave.”

“And that was such a pressing matter that you couldn’t wait until I returned from the men’s room?”

Potter’s body stilled and he met Draco’s eyes. Draco instantly regretted poking at Potter’s temper because the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver through him and he didn’t know why he was picking a fight in the first place. Hadn’t he wanted to stay on good terms with Potter if possible? Perhaps it wasn’t possible. He had said Malfoy’s didn’t run, but he was wanting to run or reach for his wand, apparating would be much faster.

“Goodbye Potter.” Draco managed to say, impressed with how calm his voice came out. It wasn’t as forceful as he would have liked but it would do. Except it didn’t. Because Potter wasn’t leaving instead he was stepping closer, he made two hesitant steps into the room, before letting out a sound of frustration. Then all hesitation was gone and Potter was striding towards Draco with a purpose. Draco could think of a few purposes and his mind recalled the last time he had been trapped in the loo with Potter and still had the scars to prove it. Not wanting a repeat he fumbled into his pocket for his wand to apparate away. Potter was faster. When his mouth landed almost painfully on his, Draco’s fingers froze on his wand too shocked to magic anywhere at all. Potter kissing him breathless had not been what he was expecting, although it was much better than the alternative and he did have to admit that he wasn’t a bad kisser. Better than not bad actually.

Potter’s hands pulled Draco tighter to him, his body pressing him against the counter. Draco’s fingers tightened around his wand and without consciously thinking about it apparated them both to his flat. Harry didn’t act like he noticed until he leaned into Draco even more and without the counter for support toppled them both onto the floor of Draco’s bedroom.

The pause in the kiss was long enough for Draco to get his senses back. “What are you doing?” Draco had been talking to himself, but Potter thinking the question was directed at him broke the contact and leaned back to sit on his shins.

“You are the one that brought us here.” He pointed out, looking around the room as if just now noticing where here was.

“For discreteness.” Draco said, getting up off the floor with as much dignity as he could.

“To your bedroom?” Potter waved a hand at the neatly made bed, then looked away as if it were indecent for him to see it.

“I was thinking quick and it was the first place to come to mind.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Potter was still sitting on the floor, his large green eyes looking bright and questioning up at him.

Draco let the question pend in the air for a while. Then shrugged, he didn’t really want him to leave, but nothing had changed. He wasn’t looking for attachments and Potter was the definition of attachment. He was still best friends with the first person to friend him at Hogwarts. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if he was still in touch with every person from school that he had considered a friend.

“Stay. Go. It’s your choice.” Draco said, sounding as if he could care less either way. “But nothings changed. I don’t want any...future misunderstandings.” Draco gave Potter a belittling smirk. Then cursed his own face. Why did Potter always bring out this side of him. Potter’s open expression slammed closed. His big eyes that had looked so sweet and charming, narrowed before he clumsily climbed to his feet.

“You’ve already crossed me off your list so you don’t care one way or the other. Is that it?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Potter.” Draco rolled his eyes.

Potter looked so offended at being accused of being dramatic, that one would think that Draco had just insulted his mother.

“I’m not being dramatic!” He said in a tone that was a complete contradiction to his denial. His flailing arms didn’t help either. It took some self control not to let the smile that wanted to form from slipping into place. “You…” Potter’s arms stopped moving long enough to point an accusing finger at Draco. “Set up an entire Quidditch charity just to seduce me and you think I’m being dramatic?”

“I set up charities all the time.” Draco said, neither admitting or denying the possible truth of Potters words.

“What....?” Potter ran a frustrated hand through his hair. It looked like he had tried to tame it for the party, but you couldn’t tell anymore. “...does that even mean? Do you use charities as some sort of pick up ploy regularly?”

Draco shot Potter an icy look. As if?

“Let’s get something clear, Potter.” He took a menacing step forward. “I had already planned on doing a charity. The only thing I added to it was the Quidditch match, which was a stroke of genius, because the ticket sales alone surpassed the last five years worth of raised funds for the WOA.”
Potter rolled his eyes, and Draco could feel his cool slipping away. He wanted to grab his wand and hex Potter or grab him and throttle him, but then that idea didn’t seem like all that much of a punishment for Potter.

“Leave it to The Chosen One to make it all-about-himself.” Potter’s face turned red. Still got it. Draco’s mouth twitched with anticipation of the coming fight, his heart racing with the thrill he always got at getting under Potter’s skin.

“That is so typical, Malfoy.” So it’s Malfoy now that didn’t take long. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Just enjoy playing one from time to time?”

Potter choosing to ignore the jab, continued as if not hearing him. “I cross referenced some things. The charity wasn’t contacted until days after you came to get your permit. The venue wasn’t rented until after, the catering services weren’t scheduled.”

“I was waiting to see if I could get the permit first. And well, well, well if old habits don’t die, seems like you’ve spent a lot of time looking into my nefarious deeds.” Potter’s face turned red again only this time he looked embarrassed instead of angry.

“I had a suspicion and I was right! Again.”

“What were you right about?”

“That you lied. There wasn’t a charity. You made it up and then made it happen as some elaborate ploy to get…” Potter looked like he was regretting bringing this up and wishing he could crawl away, but Draco wasn’t going to let him off so easy.

“To get you into bed.” Draco purred. “To make a fantasy of mine come true.”

“Er.” Potter didn’t seem to know what to say to that.

“To leave a lasting memory.” Draco was so close that he was able to lean in and whisper into his ear. “It was worth it.” He could hear Potter’s breath hitch. He let his nails rake over the skin along Potter’s neck. “Should I regret it Harry?” His voice husky and barely audible.  Draco found himself in Potter’s arms for the second time that night, only this time it wasn’t a surprise. He could feel Potter’s pulse under his fingers and he knew what he was doing to him.

Harry woke up the next morning once again in the expensive sheets and comfortable bed of Draco, only this time he didn’t wake up alone. Harry shifted carefully so not to wake up the sleeping figure. Draco was spread out as if use to sleeping alone and for reasons Harry wasn’t ready to analyze just yet, the thought that Draco wasn’t use to sharing his bed made Harry irrationally happy. Harry sat up carefully on his elbow and looked over the sleeping blond, he was on his back with his arms above his head, the death eater mark in dark contrast to the pale skin of his face.

“I would of went to go get breakfast, but you have already proven that you can’t be trusted to be left alone.” Draco said, without opening his eyes and sounding half asleep still. Harry smiled, fondly down at him. He would rather wake up to Draco than breakfast, he was getting ready to say so too. When the bedroom door banged open and Pansy Parkinson came barging in with an annoyed looking Blaise Zabini trailing behind. He looked significantly less annoyed when his eyes fell on Harry and he recalled that Zabini was working for the Quibbler now. Harry let out an undignified squeak and pulled the blankets up higher.

“Say cheese.” Zabini said, a camera had appeared out of nowhere and Harry heard a click.

“Blaise! I will hex you if you don't hand that camera over NOW.” Draco had his wand in one hand and his other out like an impatient parent.

“Think of it as an insurance policy, to insure Potter's good behavior.” Zabini gave Harry a gleeful smile that didn't make him feel any better. He was starting to think he had fallen into a nightmare.

Draco shot a glare at Zabini, who let out a huffy sigh. “Fine. I'll delete it.” He pulled the small camera out and pressed a couple buttons.

“Like I'd trust you to keep your word.” Draco wiggled the fingers of his open hand.

“We don’t have time for this.” Pansy snatched the camera out of Zabini’s hand and flashing him her own glare pressed a few buttons. “Now they’re gone and we can move on.”

“What is so important that you had to barge in my room at this time of morning?” Draco asked, sitting up, the covers slid down his torso and bundled at his waist, but Draco didn’t seem to care.

“This.” Harry noticed for the first time that Pansy had something in her hand. She waved the piece of parchment up and down the paper caught casually between two fingers.
“A letter from your parents.” Draco cringed.

“Why would Draco’s parents write you?” Harry asked, then wished he hadn’t because all three looked at him and he had to fight the urge to pull the blanket up completely over his head.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “They didn’t. I intercepted Draco’s mail this morning.” Draco didn’t even act surprised or that he cared.

“And what do my loving parents have to say?” Draco asked, leaning back against the padded headboard.

“That they will be by to talk to you in about…” Pansy cast a tempest charm and smoke formed in the room showing the time to be 9:55. “5 minutes.”
Draco shot up so fast he almost fell out of the bed. He flung the blankets off and started shoving a naked Harry out of his bed. Harry felt a flush form on his cheeks as he was forced to stand naked in front of Pansy’s and Blaise’s ogling eyes. He was torn between wanting to cover himself up and covering Draco up who was on full display as he rushed around picking up scattered clothing. His arms were loaded by the time he made it over to Harry and shoved the clothes into his arms. The sparkle of the emerald stud through Draco's right nipple momentarily distracting him.

“Had a good time. Bye.” Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder and scowled at his audience.

“Yeah, me too.” He tried to say quiet enough for Draco’s eavesdropping friends not to hear.

“We will talk later, but you need to go.” Draco said, already stepping away.

“Er, I need my wand.”

“Accio Harry’s wand.” Harry’s wand came flying from behind the nightstand and into Draco’s outstretched hand. He shoved the wand at him as forcefully as the clothes and gave him a push as if to say. Get going. Now!

“Ok, I’ll uh call or we could go to dinner.” Harry suggested hopefully. Draco’s eyes went wide and his jaw twitched.

“Harry, my parents will be coming through that door in about two minutes. Do you really want my mother to see your cock?” Harry lowered the clothes to cover himself on reflex and shook his head.

“Then I suggest you leave and yes you can call, we will talk. Maybe go to dinner.” Harry didn’t miss the pause or the maybe. Liking neither, he realized that he was never promised more than another one off and he might not get another, especially after Draco talked to his parents. Who knew what they would have to say? Harry had no doubt that they were front page again. Draco stepped back, probably to find his own clothes and without thinking Harry stepped forward and pulled the resistant blond into a crushing kiss. Incentive that’s what he needed to give Draco. It wasn’t like he was completely immune to Harry. He had wanted him just as much last night as Harry had him and he would remind him of that before he left. He was probably giving the still watching Pansy and Blaise more of a show then they had planned on, but they had already seen him naked and Harry was past the point of caring. He forced Draco’s mouth open, not that much force was needed, he had caught him by surprise and his mouth opened with a mumbled “Oh”. It was a slow, relaxed kiss that he hoped promised more, before finally pulling back he caught Draco’s bottom lip between his teeth and gently sucked. Draco looked flushed when Harry broke the kiss and stepped back. Feeling bold, he gave Draco a smug grin and a wink before apparating away.

“Bloody Hell. Why did I ever think this would be a good idea?” Draco cursed, closing his eyes and trying to calm his racing heart.

“If you recall there was this one person who tried to tell you so, but that you refused to listen to.” Pansy’s voice helped draw Draco’s thoughts away from Potter and back to the situation at hand. He let out a high pitched yelp that he was glad Harry wasn’t around to hear and shot into the bathroom.

“Stall them.” He commanded before slamming the bathroom door.

“Well that was certainly interesting.” Draco heard Blaise say to Pansy through the closed door. Draco flung the door back open and gave his two friends a suspicious look.

“Don’t think it escaped my notice that you just happened to be at Pansy’s at such an early hour.” Pansy looked affronted and Blaise rolled his eyes.

“As if.” They both said at the same time. Pansy sounding scandalized and Blaise with a bored tone. Pansy and Blaise both scrunched their face and looked at each other equally offended that the other would be so quick to dismiss the other. They shot into arguing with each other.

“You would be so lucky.” Pansy said.

“I know where you’ve been.” Blaise said.

“As if you can talk.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s business only.”

“Until you are actually believable when you say it.”

“You slept with Zacharias Smith in seventh year.”

“So did you.” Pansy shot back.

“I did not.” Blaise denied.

“You both have horrible taste and would be lucky to have each other.” Draco told the both of them.

“Draco.” Called his mother’s voice from the floo. Draco’s felt the panic settling in and felt his eyes go wide. “Go stall!” he pleaded not able to keep the franticness out of his voice.

Draco fell back onto his bed flinging his arm over his face. Parents could be exhausting or at least his could at any rate. They weren’t pleased by Draco and Harry’s relationship making front page again. Once was speculation his mother had said, twice was refutable, but a third time was proof and acceptance with a bow on top. He had tried to tell them that he was not in fact in a relationship with Harry Potter and that they were only on friendly terms for the charity, but it was hard to deny discriminating evidence and the front page of the paper was very damning to his deniability. It had a picture of Harry pressing him against the counter in the men’s lounge and it wasn’t showing Draco exactly pushing him away. How had anyone even gotten that picture? They had been completely alone or so Draco had thought. Sneaky reporters. No wonder Blaise liked being a reporter he was as sneaky as they came. He was having doubts about that picture earlier. What if Blaise didn’t delete it and it became the front cover of the Quibbler? He would hope that Luna Lovegood being friends with Harry wouldn’t allow such a cover, but the edition would fly off the rakes.

His father still hadn’t came to terms with the fact that Draco wasn’t going to marry into a proper family and have a child to pass on the Malfoy name to. He didn’t care about Draco’s preferences as long as they were private, but the front cover of the paper was the opposite of private. “You are shaming the family name.” His father had accused. Then they had gotten into a fight and Draco had told him that his dad had already managed that by joining a mad man.

Then his parents had decided maybe Draco dating the Savior wasn’t a bad idea and that it could help them and he had screamed at both of them to stay out of his love life. “I’m not dating Harry Potter just to dig the Malfoy name out of the mud. I’m not dating Harry Potter at all.” Even if the entire Wizarding Britain thought he was, and his parents thought he was, and Harry Potter thought he was. Everyone had apparently gone mad.

The night had ended with his dad saying, “Just because you think you have nothing to lose doesn’t mean that you have a free pass to be stupid.”
“A free pass.” Draco had repeated. Draco did not feel like he had ever had a free pass in his life. And he would never call a death sentence a free pass.
“Your father and I are working on something.” His mother had said, sounding cryptic. “What he means is we would hate for you to do something rash that you won’t be able to take back and later regret.” Draco had blinked at his parents. His father wasn’t someone that would give up his only son without a fight and his mother had already proven the lengths she would go to. Draco only hoped that they wouldn’t do something that Draco would regret. His parents didn’t always make the best decisions he decided, which was probably hereditary, because after his parents had left Draco had been stupid enough to answer a floo call from Harry and had agreed to go to lunch with him tomorrow. He wondered what his mother would say about the forth time.

Draco sat on Potter’s lumpy couch and looked around his flat. It was surprisingly...atrocious. It wasn’t that Draco had envisioned it with high hopes based off the lack of style Potter showed in his wardrobe, but this really went above and beyond. It was like he was trying to make it look horrible on purpose. Not a single piece of furniture matched. The coffee table looked like pale pine, the woodwork was a medium darkness and the end table was almost black the wood was so dark. The room had two couches one had creme and green stripes and the other had large red flowers. The scheme was all brought together with mustard colored walls and a ratty blue blanket. He passed the time by looking at a moving picture hanging on the wall that sported the golden trio smiling with their arms draped over each other.

Potter wasn’t gone long before Draco heard the shuffling of his feet as he came back carrying a tray with two mismatched mugs. Why am I not surprised?

“Er, she said she would be here in a few minutes.” Potter said, looking like he didn’t know where he should sit. He finally put the tray on the coffee table and sat next to Draco on the striped couch. Closer than Draco thought he really needed to.

“Wonderful.” Draco commented, trying to keep the sarcasm out of the remark and failing, if the look Potter just gave him was any indication.

He had went to lunch with Potter as he had said he would. And stupid Potter had looked so stupid happy about it. He had even wore robes that didn’t look like they were bought off the rack and had done something to his hair so it looked like it was supposed to be messy instead of accidental. And he tried to hold his hand, which was unacceptable. They were having lunch not out on a romantic outing. But Potter mustn’t have known the difference because he had looked at him across the table with big green puppy eyes all through lunch and had kept touching him for no good reason. That was just something they did now Draco supposed. As Harry, might as well start calling and thinking about him as Harry now, inched even closer and put his arm around Draco and sipped at a cup of tea with his free hand as if this were completely normal. Waiting in Harry’s flat for Granger to stop by, drinking tea and snuggling. Draco knew this was his fault. He had taken Harry home with him and now he was never going to leave. Merlin, why did he have to look at him like that anyways? Harry was currently grinning easily and letting his fingers rub gently on Draco’s shoulder.

“We’ll just listen to what she has to say and think about it.” Harry was saying as if they were now in this together. Harry had distracted Draco with his pretty eyes and flirtatious touches and manipulated Draco into coming here to meet with Granger about possible ways to break the curse and once Draco was clear headed again decided he would be a fool not to listen to her ideas, she was very smart when it came to research.

“Hermione’s brilliant.” Harry said sounding more confident in his friend than anyone had a right to. “Not that you aren’t brilliant too, but sometimes it helps when you aren’t as close to the thing.”

“Hmmm.” Draco sat up and sipped at his cooling tea. “Your flat is hideous, Potter.”
Harry’s face turned pink around the ears. “I know.”

“I’ve not really taken the time to decorate, half the furniture was already here when I moved in and I just kept it.”

“At least you didn’t buy it.” Draco eyed the floral couch with distaste at the thought that at some point in time someone somewhere had in fact bought that couch.

“I found that couch on the curb, someone was throwing it out.”

Draco couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. “For good reason. Are you telling me that you found that couch on the curb and actually took the effort to bring it home with you?”

Harry nodded. “It’s actually really comfortable. Unlike this one.” Harry elbowed the back of the couch as if that would somehow help the lump go back in and stay in.

“You have money.” Draco said, flabbergasted.

“It was supposed to be just temporary. The entire flat that is. I was planning on fixing up 12 Grimmauld Place and moving in there, but with work I haven’t had much time and then here we are.”

“The ugliest flat in Britain.”

“It’s better than Grimmauld Place. I don’t think you’ve been there recently, but at least this place is a little homey.”

“I can and will not believe the the ancestral home of the Black’s is worse than this.”

Harry shrugged. “We can go by after this and you can see for yourself.”

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice called from the other room.

“In here.” Harry gave Draco a squeeze before pulling his arm back and sitting up to greet Hermione.

“Hi, Draco. Hi, Harry.” She greeted, sounding slightly out of breath as she dropped a stack of books onto the table before launching into explaining her research. “I think we should start with this one.” She picked up a large tomb and thumbed through until she found the page she was wanting and opened the book for the two of them to see.

“This one is I feel the most hopeful and doesn’t require any...questionable magic.” Harry hazard a glance at Draco, he was leaned forward looking intrigued. Harry had forgotten that Draco had actually been a good student in school. He had received top marks and had often came a close second to Hermione in numerous classes.

“There is a case study of Robert Humfrey being cursed with Rubert’s Disease. He had ended up dying of a potion overdose. But it is recorded that when they took him to the hospital the curse was gone.” She looked up and looked over at Harry uncertainty, which Harry didn’t like because that meant that she knew he wasn’t going to like this idea.

“So I just have to die to break the curse.” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“Exactly.” Hermione agreed a little too excitedly. “But we don’t know for how long. What is considered dead to the curse? What if it is just your heart stopping? Then we could use a medical spell that is used during a number of surgeries to temporarily stop the heart. The curse is broken and then we lift the spell and your heart starts pumping again.”

“That sounds too risky.” Harry said, when Draco looked like he was giving the idea serious consideration.

“It’s very old, dark magic Harry, there is going to be risk.” Hermione said, she looked at Harry as if she wished that weren’t the case.

“She’s right.” Draco agreed and Harry took a second of pause at Draco Malfoy agreeing with Hermione. Hermione beamed for a second, before continuing.

“I think the risk would be lower than it sounds with the spell being so easy to control and reverse. It’s common medical practice.”

“What are the other options?” Harry pushed forward. He did not want someone casting a spell to temporarily kill Draco.

“Well another thought I had isn’t really a cure. It would cure Draco but…” She looked at Draco hesitantly. “It’s a transfer spell. I found a case dealing with a blood curse similarly cast. The family was able to track down a living relative of the caster and then was able to manipulate the curse enough to transfer it to a blood relative of the cursed. It’s very complicated. Do you know who put the curse on you?”

Draco shook his head. “No. There were not any reported deaths around the time the curse appeared that matched the rite to apply the curse. I’m not doing that one anyways.” Draco’s eyes held no question on the matter. “I’m not going to pass a curse onto my mother or father.”

“I didn’t think you would, but I just wanted to give all options I could.” Draco nodded but said nothing else.

“What else?” Harry asked, sounding a little loud in the small sitting room.

Hermione looked even more unsure before continuing.  “The elder wand.” She said her voice low.

“The elder wand?” Draco asked, looking confused, “That’s a fairy tale.”

“No it’s not.” Harry said. “It was Dumbledore’s wand. Then you disarmed him and then I disarmed you.”

“Let me get this straight. You are the master of the elder wand. I was the master of the elder wand? That’s...that’s just ridiculous.”

“That’s how I defeated Voldemort.” Harry admitted. “He tried to kill me with my wand and it backfired and killed him.”

Draco apparently didn’t know what to say. He looked speechless. Harry tried putting his arm back around him, but he shooed Harry’s arm away and jumped to his feet. “You are the master of the elder wand and you don’t use it!”

“I like my wand better.” Harry shrugged.

“The elder wand is dangerous.” Hermione piped in.

“And you are suggesting I get it and use it.” Harry raised a brow at her, he wasn’t angry if it would work he would be stupid not to.

“It’s not so much the wand is dangerous it’s just if people knew about it then…”

“Then they would go after Harry so they could become the master of the most powerful wand known.” Draco finished for her.

“Yes. It could perhaps be strong enough to break the curse. If we don’t tell anyone then I think the danger would be minimal.” She said, looking at Harry skeptically and looking at Draco as if she were hoping he would keep it a secret.

“I’m not going to tell anyone.” Draco told her, looking offended that she would think he would.

“We know you won’t, otherwise we wouldn't have told you about it.” Harry assured him.

“That was stupid of you. Why would you tell me? I’m not going to tell, but you couldn’t have known that. You two are reckless idiots.” Draco crossed his arms and threw himself back onto the couch, next to Harry and this time when Harry reached his arm around him he only stiffened but allowed it to stay. Harry couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face.

“Don’t smile at me.” Draco ordered, without even looking at Harry. Harry’s smile got bigger.

“Well I have a few more ideas, but they are less solid and I really don’t think we need to consider them yet. I will leave these here.” She said pointing at the stack of books on the end table.

“For a bit of light reading.” Harry joked.

“Thank you Gr...Hermione for your help.” Draco stood up from the couch again and Harry’s arm felt cold and empty. Draco held out his hand to Hermione. Hermione looked at the hand, then her face broke out into a grin and she bounced on her toes. “Oh.” She bypassed the hand and gave Draco a very quick hug. The surprised look on Draco’s face was the funniest thing Harry had seen all month.

Hermione was already heading out the door talking all the way. “I will do some more research on the three we talked about. Harry I will talk to you soon. Goodnight.”

“There’s no need to research the second one.” Draco said, but Harry knew it was a wasted request Hermione would most likely research all three and the one’s she didn’t even tell them about and then find a couple other options as well.

“Looks like it’s just us again.” Harry commented once he heard the floo woosh. He looked up at Draco, who’s gray eyes narrowed, but Harry didn’t miss the dart they made towards his bedroom door.

“I didn’t give you a proper tour.” He said, smiling and feeling a little silly, but more at ease than he normally was around his dates.

“If the rest of the place is as hopeless as this room. I don’t know if I want to see.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t find my mattress on the side of the street.”

“I wasn’t worried about that, but now I am.” Draco put a hand on his hip. “And that is awfully assumptious of you.”

Harry shrugged, he felt like a smiling fool, but he couldn’t help it. “Am I far off with my assumptions?” He asked, coming to stand in front of Draco. Draco was a couple inches taller than Harry; the perfect height to kiss along his jaw and neck.

“You know what they say about assuming, Harry.”

“I like when you call me Harry.” He said, leaning in to kiss Draco, who pulled him closer and kissed him back, proving that Harry wasn’t far off at all.

The next day Draco tried to get up and leave early, but Harry was very persuasive and somehow Draco ended up staying almost the entire next day. Harry’s bedroom wasn’t as bad as his living room and his bed although not up to Draco’s standards was suffiseable. Otherwise no amount of Harry’s methods, which included lots of kissing would have been able to keep him there.

It was right around Draco’s third attempt of leaving that Harry suddenly paused while kissing down his throat. “Uhm.” He said, pulling back looking confused. His glasses were thankfully gone somewhere, hopefully never to be found again and his hair was sticking up everywhere, but in the bedroom Draco decided it was okay for it to do that.

“Draco, did you cast a glamour?”

“On what?” He purred, hoping to entice Harry to get back to trying to cox him into staying longer.

“Your neck.”

“No. Why would I?” He was starting to get irritated now. When would the kissing begin again? He tugged at Harry’s hair, trying to get him back on task, but the stubborn man acted like he didn’t even feel it.

“The red ring is gone.” He said. Draco, looked down as if he would be able to see his own neck, then annoyed at himself, jumped up to go to the mirror. His reflection proved Harry’s words. His neck was all pale, creamy skin with only a single bruise from Harry’s mouth on his collarbone, marring it. The familiar red ring was gone.

“Did you do something?” He turned to Harry. Did he go get the elder wand and cast something while Draco was sleeping, in an exhausted, sound state.

“When would I have had the time?” Harry asked, a smirk forming on his face at the thought of what had been taking up all his time.

Draco rolled his eyes, he was so childish sometimes. “Then maybe…”

“Hermione would never try something without us agreeing and knowing first.” Harry said.

“But my parents wouldn’t.” Draco said.

“But how could they have done something without you being present.”

“I don’t know.” Draco admitted, it didn’t make any since. Draco swooped down and grabbed his wand from his robes piled on the floor and cast a few spells on himself that would show if he had any curses or spells affecting his being, but the scans showed nothing.

“The curse is gone.” Draco felt too shocked to feel anything. Things like this didn’t just happen to him. Waking up with a curse was more like the stuff that happened to him not the other way around. Harry had climbed out of the bed and was casting his own spells and physically searching and touching his neck as if the ring was just faded and if he looked hard enough he would find it. His wandering hands soon, widened their exploration and Draco found himself back in the bed. Draco would get to the bottom of this as soon as he got home. Which would be when he finally managed to get away from Harry.

Epilogue:

“Certainly not.” Draco said, when Harry came into the room. He was wearing a pair of dark blue pants, and a gray cotton button up. His brow scrunched up in either confusion or indignation at being told to go change for the second time that day.

“But I wore this to Seamus’s wedding last week and you said I looked nice.” Great now he was pouting.

“We are not going to Seamus’s wedding now are we?” Draco pointed out. “Different event different dress standards.”

“Fine.” Harry sighed, turning to go change, again. “Hurry. I don’t want to be late.” Harry shot him an angry look.

“I don’t care. I just want to wear this and then we could leave now. No one really cares what I wear do they?” He asked.

“My parents are going to be there.” Draco said.

“Don’t remind me.” Harry said, running his hands through his hair and messing up all of Draco’s hard work at getting it to look tamed.

“They will care.” Draco informed him.

“Then why don’t you just pick something out for me?” Harry asked, sounding frustrated.

“If you insist.” Draco said, flying past Harry into the closet before he had a chance to change his mind. He had been dying to pick out Harry’s clothes, but he didn’t want to seem controlling. And usually he liked making Harry have to go change, because he liked watching him undress, but they really were in a hurry and this was the first time that they would be attending an event with his parents as a couple and he wanted Harry to make a good impression. If that was possible.

Draco pulled out a nice pair of black robes. Harry would have to wear something of his, because Draco doubted he owned anything that would really be nice enough for this snobby events standards. Draco caught sight of Harry pulling his shirt over his head and got very distracted.

“You are late darling.” His mother pointed out, leaning in so that Draco could give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Seems like a pattern.” His father commented, eyeing Harry beside him. Clearly thinking that it was his fault and a bad influence on his son.

“My moon roses are in full bloom. You will have to come over for dinner to see them.” She looked so pleased, or as pleased as she would show in public. “You are invited as well, Harry.” She added almost as an afterthought, but Draco could tell the smile she gave him was genuine.

“Smile Big.” Blaise said, popping out of nowhere. Snap. The light felt like it blinded Draco.

“Blaise. More warning next time.” Draco complained. “And you better only post good pictures of me.”

“Sure.” He said, an evil grin on his face. “Why don’t I get a picture of you and Harry together. Step closer Harry.” He shoved Draco back a few steps into Harry’s chest.

“Pretend you love each other.” Blaise said, winking at Draco. Draco wanted to hex that smirk off his face.

“Don’t have to.” Harry said, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him closer. His chin resting on Draco’s shoulder.

“So sweet.” Blaise murmured, before snapping multiple pictures.

“That’s how you choose to tell me you love me? Like that.” Draco whispered at Harry. That was a horrible first time I love you.

“I think I will use this as the cover for the interview you two are going to give me tomorrow.”

“Wait. What?” Harry and Draco both said at once.

“Marvelous. Bye.” And Blaise was gone.

“An interview. In his dreams.” Draco said. Harry still had his chin resting on his shoulder, he shifted and kissed Draco on the cheek, his hot breath brushing against his ear.

“Draco I... love... this shirt that you picked out for me.” Draco shot a sharp elbow into Harry’s ribs and he laughed.

“Draco really. We are in public.” His mom scolded, but whether she was scolding about the elbow or the public display of affection he didn’t know. His mother was a firm believer in keeping that sort of thing behind closed doors. Draco rolled his eyes and turning around pulled Harry into a kiss. Letting his tongue explore for an inappropriately long time. Harry was flushed when Draco pulled away. He didn’t want to get too carried away. He would save that for later in the men’s lounge.

“Lets go get a drink.” He pulled Harry by the hand to the nearest bar. All the eyes in the room seemed to be on them. Draco decided he liked being on the arm of Harry Potter very much.

“I got you a drink.” Luna said, handing Blaise a glass filled with a pink bubbly mystery beverage. Luna was always adding her own twist to the drinks. Blaise was getting used to it and usually they tasted better anyways.

“Thank you, Lovely.” He said, taking the drink from her gloved hand, the glove elegantly covering the numerous ink smudges her fingers were stained with.

“They are so cute together.” Luna said, sounding dreamier than normal. “They deserve to be happy.”

“Everyone deserves to be happy.” Blaise agreed, sipping the fizzy pink drink. “Yum, raspberry?”

“Passion fruit.” She corrected.

“Does it help clear the head? Or perhaps increase circulation? Enhance sex?” He waggled his eyebrows at Luna.

“No, I just like the taste.” She said, taking the glass from Blaise and taking a drink from it before handing it back.

“Do you think you will ever tell Draco that he didn’t have Rubert’s Disease? And that you had cast a blood and love ring on him instead.”

“Most definitely not.” Draco would kill him if he found out that he hadn't been dying and that Blaise knew the entire time and didn’t tell him. It had been a little bit of a misunderstanding really. Blaise hadn't expected the ring to appear on Draco's neck like that and he really hadn't expected everyone to freak out and think he had Rubert's Disease. When he found out he had went to the manor to fully intending to tell Draco the truth. He showed up expecting Draco to be a complete mess, crying about the injustices of the world. Instead he found Draco calm, slightly drunk, but optimistic. Ready for the first time to take charge of his life instead of living his life for his parents and doing what he must instead of what he wants. So he had decided to wait, for just a little while. Honestly Draco would probably still be living at the manor pretending to be straight if it wasn’t for Blaise. He should really be thanking him, but then he would have to tell him. Maybe in a few years.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be that upset.” Luna obviously had never seen Draco in a full blown fit.

“Yeah, but I like my secrets.”

“I won’t say anything then.” She said.

“As always I admire your discrepancy.”

“I didn’t mind helping lift the hex either. I’ve never done that kind of magic before, only read about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about trying a fertility spell on Pansy next. Would you like to come over and help?” He asked. He hadn’t minded Luna’s help reversing the Blood and Love ring either. The ring is old magic and requires blood from the intended recipient to cast it and an act of love to reverse it. It was a harmless spell that parents use to cast on their children to help them find a romantic match. Blaise wasn’t all that surprised when it helped lead Draco to Potter, after all Blaise had spent six years of school listening to “Potter this and can you believe Potter that.” There was a running bet in the Slytherin house about when the two of them would finally shut up and… ‘kiss’ already. Blaise had a few people to get in touch with, who needed to pay up. He smiled over his glass and patted the camera in his pocket. He had all the proof he needed.

The End