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Harry Potter and the Black King	By : Phoenixstrike Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10586 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and all characters and situations are created and owned by JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Warner Bros. No money is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter Twelve- Christmas Revelations

“Oh fuck, yes, there, just like that,” Harry moaned, as Draco leant forwards and took his mouth in his own for a deep kiss, tongues intertwining and the pair’s sweat- drenched bodies colliding. Draco broke the kiss and straightened his back once more to resume his seated position, thrusting his hips up and down as he rode on Harry’s erection, his fingers gripping Harry’s sides tight enough to leave bruises.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch you make yourself come,” Harry whispered, something he wouldn’t normally have the nerve to say, even for the courageous Gryffindor he is, but he was so wrapped up in the moment he didn’t care. Draco’s momentary surprise was replaced almost instantly by a very lascivious smirk, and his right hand reached around his front to massage his balls as he angled his thrusts so Harry’s shaft was hitting his prostate. Harry fought the urge to throw his head back and screw his eyes shut tight as sensation threatened to overwhelm him; Draco on display like this was a sight we has not prepared to miss.

Draco leant back further, clearly determined to give Harry a show. He displayed himself fully to his lover, who groaned in response, as Draco’s hands explored his own body. When the blond began to fist his own erection, Harry very nearly lost it, but he was determined Draco would come first. He began thrusting his own hips in time to the strokes Draco was giving his own shaft, then felt Draco’s rhythm falter, before the blond stiffened and cried out, releasing onto Harry’s stomach. It took only two more thrusts before Harry was coming, hard, into his boyfriend, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a cry of his own.

“Merry Christmas Harry,” Draco said, leaning forwards to kiss the brunette deeply.

“Mmmmmmm. Merry Christmas yourself,” Harry replied when the kiss ended, still panting slightly.

“Thank Merlin for silencing charms,” he sighed breathlessly as Draco removed himself from Harry’s lap, chuckling.

“Lupin won’t have heard, will he?”

“No,” Harry replied. “Full moon was the fourteenth. It’s only a few days either side of it that heightens his hearing. Erm, Draco, not that I don’t like lying here like this, but I’d quite like my arms back now please.”

“No. I’m going to leave you like that all day and you can be my personal sex slave.”

“Draco…”

Draco laughed again and reached over to his bedside table to retrieve a small silver key, which he inserted into the handcuffs that were firmly securing Harry’s wrists to the headboard.

“And you thought this muggle toy was a waste of money,” he drawled, as Harry gingerly rubbed his aching wrists. “Come on, we’d best get showered and dressed and go and see the others. Besides, I want my presents.”

“I just gave you your present,” Harry smirked.

“And I very much enjoyed unwrapping it too,” Draco replied with a grin. “But unless we’re going to hide in here all day- and as you’re leaving me alone with Severus to go swanning off to the Weasleys on our first Christmas together that’s not such a bad idea- we need to get a move on.”

Harry still refused to get out of bed. Draco laughed. “Fine. I’ll guess I’m showering alone then.”

“I’m coming!” Harry shouted, jumping out of bed.

“Not yet you’re not, but you will be again in a few minutes,” Draco replied, walking into the bathroom, Harry hot on his heels.

Harry was pleased with the presents he had received. Rather predictably, Snape had given him a book. It was on Dark magic but it was so old, and filled with hand-written annotations that Harry was sure Snape had once prized it. It meant more than Harry had realised it would that Snape would think Harry worthy to receive such a gift. This brought a small lump to his throat which he wasn’t expecting and he fought it down with a heartfelt ‘thank you’.

Remus and Tonks had both given him magical items. Tonks’ gift was a glass sphere that looked like a remembrall and worked in a similar way, except it filled with an amethyst-looking smoke if someone Disillusioned or under an invisibility cloak was within fifty feet. The other gift was a pensive, that Remus had filled with memories of Harry’s parents from everyone that he could think of. The lump in Harry’s throat returned and he practically flew into Remus’ arms as way of thanks.

It was Draco’s present that really had Harry stuttering for words, however. It was an amulet, with a small lion pendant hanging from it, which had a series of rubies- Harry’s birthstone- set into the gold in a pattern.

“The rubies form the pattern of the constellation Draco,” the blond informed him. “The Blacks always name their offspring after some celestial body. This is what I was named after. I’ve performed some charms on it which means the amulet is meant to repel evil. I don’t think they’ll work against Voldemort, but it’s more of my way of saying I’m never going to leave your side in this fight.”

Harry leant over and, forgetting the other three adults in the room, kissed Draco deeply before slipping the chain over his head. “Thank you,” he whispered, gripping Draco’s hand tightly.

Harry had also got Draco jewellery. Admittedly it wasn’t as grand, as his own muggle currency supply was dangerously low but he hoped Draco liked it all the same. It was a silver ring, a circular band like a wedding ring, encrusted with a single garnet, which represented passionate devotion, and several smaller stones of agate which, Harry had been told by the muggle jeweller who made the ring, traditionally represented strength. Harry knew Draco would understand the significance of the stones and indeed he did. He took the ring and slipped it on to the middle finger of his right hand.

Although the Slytherin offered no more than a genuine and heart-felt ‘thank you’ in front of the others, Harry knew Draco well enough by now to see the blond’s eyes betraying his true emotions. They were a burning silver that were a perfect match for the metal of his ring, and spoke all the words of love that he was uncomfortable saying in front of others. He simply reached out to Harry and drew him close, holding him tight against his own body. For Harry this simple gesture was enough, and he melted into the embrace, thinking there was unlikely to be anyone else in the world who he would ever want to hold him like this at any other moment in his life. It was always going to be Draco. This thought didn’t trouble him at all.

Harry, Remus and Tonks, who now had a very tiny pregnancy bump, apparated to the Burrow at lunch time to a resounding, “Harry dear!” almost shrieked by Mrs Weasley before he was suddenly surrounded by a lot of redheads, all beaming and hugging him and patting him on the back. He heard a lot of ‘alright mate’s and ‘it’s been so long’s and ‘about time you showed your ugly specky face’ (from the twins) before the gathering broke apart, allowing Harry to take in some much-needed air. The only two Weasleys who hadn’t greeted him were Percy, who was still not talking to his family and therefore obviously wasn’t present, and Ginny, who simply stood in the doorway, a hard expression etched on her features. Harry suddenly remembered the last time he had been inside the Burrow with the entire Weasley clan. It was his seventeenth birthday and the day had not gone well at all.

“Um, hey Gin,” Harry offered to his ex- girlfriend, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth. At these simple words Ginny’s steely expression softened and she beamed at Harry.

“Hey yourself,” she said cheerfully, as her shoulders slumped in relief, before claiming the seat next to Harry that he had just sat down in.

The hopeful smiles and suggestive glances Ginny continued to give Harry throughout the meal were disconcerting enough, but when Ginny’s hand slipped onto the inside of Harry’s thigh, he physically jumped, before taking her hand in his own and removing it from his leg. Ginny flushed an angry shade of red, before shouting, “what’s your problem, Harry?”

The entire table fell silent. Ginny’s outburst even caused Ron to put down his knife and fork and stare at his best friend, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. Harry felt a flush form on his own cheeks.

“Nothing is ‘my problem’. I just don’t want to be mauled by you whilst I’m trying to eat.” He tried to keep his voice light, but with a tone that clearly said I’m not talking about this to it. Ginny didn’t take the hint.

“’Mauled’? I’m hardly mauling you Harry! I just wanted to show my boyfriend some affection on Christmas!”

Harry paled and he felt light-headed all of a sudden. “Gin, we’re not together anymore,” he said quietly but not unkindly.

Ginny’s eyes became glassy and her voice broke as she talked. “B…but when this war is over, we’ll be together, right?”

“I’m not having this conversation here, in front of everyone, in the middle of Christmas dinner,” Harry replied through gritted teeth, well aware his failure to give a ‘yes’ to Ginny’s question was as good as giving a ‘no’; his panicked eyes searching out the sympathetic ones of Remus. “Later, okay?”

“No Harry! You tell me now. I thought you ended it to save me from Voldemort- Oh for Merlin’s sake all of you, it’s just a bloody name! - and we’d be back together when this is all over. But you’re acting like you can’t bear for me to even touch you. There’s more to it than that, isn’t there? So what’s going on?”

“Harry” Hermione’s voice was very small, and she leant over and rested a supportive hand on his arm from the opposite side of the table. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hide this. You’ve done nothing wrong. Tell them.” Ginny stared at the hand resting on Harry, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“You… and HER?” Ginny all but screeched. Hermione laughed bitterly.

“Don’t make yourself look like a bigger idiot than you’ve already done, Ginny. I’m in love with your brother, in case you haven’t noticed. And Harry is like a brother to me. Yes I love him, but never in that way.” She turned her attention back to Harry. “It’s okay,” she repeated, keeping her tone gentle.

Harry looked at all the faces round the table, every single one rapt. Molly looked confused and upset, Ron suspicious, but Fred and George were both staring in undisguised glee. But it was the subtle nod from Remus and the supportive smile from Tonks that helped him summon his courage. Whatever happens next, I’m not alone he thought.

“Fine then!” He said, louder than he had intended. “Fine. You really want to know? And would rather hear this now in front of your whole family rather than wait till we’re in private? Ginny, one of the reasons I broke up with you, and the reason I won’t ever be getting back together with you, is because I’m gay.”

The stunned silence from the Weasleys as Harry’s bolt from the blue sank in probably lasted for two minutes, before the twins broke into identical sniggers, and turned their attention to Bill.

“Hand it over then, big brother,” said Fred.

“C’mon William, pay up,” George quipped.

“How did you…” Bill began, but reached into his robes, shaking his head, before pulling out a small money pouch and tossing it to the twins, who caught it in unison.

“Cheers for this Harry, fifteen galleons to us!” they laughed.

Harry stared at them, incredulous, for a moment before standing up.

“I’m sorry I ruined dinner, Mrs Weasley. I’m going to get some air” he said, not really looking at anybody’s face, before leaving the table and walking into the garden, refusing to meet any of the many stares he received on his way out.

Harry wondered why the Weasley garden was freezing cold and covered in snow, compared to the mild Christmas the rest of the country was experiencing, before realising a meteorological charm of some kind must have been cast to make the garden more festive. The garden did look beautiful; the weak December sun was reflecting off the small ice crystals which made the snow almost sparkle, and the vast virgin whiteness helped calm him. He watched a robin, conspicuous with the red and brown feathers against the pallid background, foraging on a holly bush for berries. He took his gloves out of his jeans pocket and used one to brush the snow off the bench on the edge of the orchard, before sitting down. He then wished he’d used his wand to siphon off the snow instead of his glove because his glove was now all wet and cold, before realising he could just use his wand to perform a drying charm on his glove instead. He’s just finished this and put on his now-warm glove when a redheaded figure approached him from the Weasleys’ kitchen door. As the figure got closer he could see that it was Ron. Harry braced himself.

“Um, can I sit down mate?” Ron said when he approached the bench. Harry nodded and cleared the snow off the other side, instantly re-wetting his glove.

“So. You certainly know how to drop a bombshell,” Ron began, offering an awkward smile to his best friend, which Harry returned. “Ah, how long have you, I mean, was it before Ginny? That you knew you’re, you know?”

Harry flushed. “Er, if you really want to hear this, and remember it’s your sister we’re discussing here, then it became pretty obvious that girls just didn’t do it for me when we, um, tried to take the next step on from kissing, if you catch my drift. Certain, er, things didn’t want to, um, rise to the occasion”- Harry’s face was scarlet by now and Ron looked slightly ill but was listening intently- “and then I had dreams, sexual ones, about me with men and… oh fuck Ron, this is hard to talk about! And I was doing things with blokes, and I’d wake up in such bloody states and I just knew. It’s not a phase, or some sort of rebellion I’m going through, or whatever else your mum no doubts thinks this is. This is who I am. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Likes Cock.”

Ron bust out laughing at Harry’s crude words and flung an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“Fred and George had bet Bill you were gay you know. That’s what that was all about at the table. Apparently they made the bet at Bill and Fleur’s wedding reception. They said there was more to yours and Ginny’s breakup than just You-Know-Who. They’re quite insightful for a couple of berks really. And they’re on your side mate. As am I. You’re my best mate, it’ll take a lot more than you fancying blokes to get rid of me, you know.”

Harry let out a deep breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding as relief flooded through him. He smiled at Ron, who instantly reciprocated, although Harry noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“There is one thing though Harry. I can understand you telling Lupin- I mean, he’s almost like a dad to you and all that. But why did you tell Hermione and not me? She just told me you came out to her that day we met in the Room of Requirement back in October. I’m your best mate, and I have to be honest and tell you I’m a bit hurt you didn’t trust me.”

The feeling of dread was back- a feeling that made his insides feel as icy as the snow pressed against his back did. Tell Ron about Draco or not? Now was the time to decide. If Harry was honest with himself he was scared of Ron’s reaction. However the longer he put this off the worse it would be when he eventually told Ron. Plus he wasn’t ashamed of his relationship. Draco wasn’t some dirty little secret; he was Harry’s partner, his equal. His love. Harry shouldn’t feel as if he had to hide his boyfriend from those he cared most about. He shifted position on the bench, as if searching for a more comfortable spot amongst the slush and ice. He took another deep breath as he came to a decision, praying it was the right one.

“There’s a reason why I told Hermione, Ron. Yes I came out to her, but I needed to tell her something else. I’ll tell you everything now, and I’m pretty certain you’re going to hate it. I just hope you won’t hate me for it. I’m, er, not single. I mean, I have a boyfriend.”

“Why would I hate you having a boyfriend, Harry?” Harry could almost hear the smile in Ron’s voice and winced, waiting for the knut to drop. “But you’re practically housebound at Grimmauld Place! How can you have a boyfriend? When did you find the time to meet…?” Ron paled and he gaped at Harry.

“Well, fuck. So, which one is it then? Snape or Malfoy?”

Harry actually burst out laughing at that. “What the bloody Hell, Ron? Snape?! Where did your sick mind get that from?” He instantly sobered and took a deep breath, realising that his response had all but confirmed to Ron his relationship with Malfoy; indeed Ron was looking at Harry as if he had suddenly grown a second head, or just revealed he had taken the Dark Mark and was off to join Voldemort. “But, um, yes, I’m in love with Draco. And he’s in love with me. And, er, we’ve been together for four months now. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, but I’m sure you must know why I didn’t.”

Ron looked as if he’d taken a bludger to the head from close range hit by a particularly vindictive Crabbe. His face was almost as white as the snow, causing the freckles on his face to stand out horribly. When he spoke it wasn’t the ranting or yelling Harry had been expecting, nor was Ron’s speech full of his usual childish slurs such as ‘Slytherin git’. It was one of disbelief and disappointment, and icy cold. It made the hairs on Harry’s neck stand up on end. He would actually have preferred an angry Ron as he at least knew how to deal with that; this cold, saddened one was making him feel like he’d been a naughty boy caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“You’re in a relationship with Draco Malfoy. The same Malfoy that hoped Hermione would die when the chamber of secrets was opened and has repeatedly called her ‘mudblood’. The same Malfoy that stamped on your nose last year and broke it. The same Malfoy that almost got me killed on my birthday, nearly got Katie killed, and let the fucking Death Eaters into school in June? Harry, my brother is disfigured for life, and you’re sitting here and telling me you’re in love with the bastard that let it happen? How could you?”

Harry sighed. Yes, he could understand Ron’s anger but he couldn’t keep having the same repeated conversation with him. “We’ve been over and over this Ron, when I first told you he and Snape were living with me. He did what he needed to do to try and survive, and got desperate. Voldemort was going to kill his parents that he tried anything. Draco is very intelligent, and the stupid things he tried, such as poison that mead, was so ridiculous and out of character for him that really does show where his head was at that time you know. And he feels insanely guilty about letting the Death Eaters into school. And you know Dumbledore’s death wasn’t his fault. Do you really think I’d want to be with him if he was the same git he was at Hogwarts? Draco has grown up. You know how much he’s helped with the horcrux search. We’ve found two of them directly thanks to Draco. Draco’s on our side. He’s gone a very long way to redeem himself you know.”

“But the way he treated you- us!- at school Harry. The things he said about Hermione, about my family!” Ron was beginning to raise his voice. Some of the earlier pallor was being replaced with an angry, blotchy red of which Harry was wary. This appearance in Ron usually preceded yelling. He forced his voice to come out quiet and even when he spoke.

“I know Ron. But whatever went on before between us at school is over. And he has apologised to me, for all of it. But that all came from his father, you know. All his bigotry came directly from Lucius. Draco grew up in a closed-minded family and all he did was parrot what his parents taught him. He never had an independent thought as he was expected to just shut up and be a good little pureblood. Well, he’s thinking for himself now, and I’ve been educating him about the world. He genuinely doesn’t think muggleborns are inferior any more, and he’s even had some complimentary things to say about Hermione. Come on Ron. My mum had the same blood status as Hermione, there’s no way I’d be with someone who insulted her.”

“But you hated each other so much at school. How could this have turned to love?” Ron’s voice had a defeated tone to it, Harry noticed. He smiled ruefully, and wondered if he could put an arm round Ron yet. He decided against it. Ron looked calmer but Harry knew from experience that his best friend was every bit the stereotypical hot-headed redhead, and Ron had just received some very unexpected news.

“So did my mum and dad. Well, my mum hated my dad, anyway. They fought like kneazle and crup at school. I saw it in that Pensive memory of Snape’s, and Lupin told me a lot about them too. And yet they ended up blissfully in love. It does happen and it’s not as rare as you might think. But we’re in the middle of a war. This is so much more important, more significant, than a stupid boyhood animosity. We’ve gotten over it, moved on and put the past firmly behind us, and when we did we realised pretty quickly that there was a lot more between us than friendship.”

“But… Malfoy! How can you go from hate to love, that quickly?”

“Dumbledore said my greatest gift was my ability to love. Draco and I have never been able to leave each other alone. There’s always been an intense attraction, even when that attraction was driven by loathing. That didn’t leave. We fell in love very quickly. And I am in love with him Ron. I really, really am. And I know that no one saw this coming, and there were probably no two people less likely to get involved in a relationship with each other six months ago than me and Draco but I guess none of us know what life holds for us. This isn’t just some passing fancy, or an easy way to get laid until something better comes along. I’m pretty certain that what we have is going to be lifelong, Ron.”

Ron sighed and wiped a hand over his face. Harry noticed he had his eyes screwed tight, and his free hand was screwed so hard into a fist his knuckles were white. Harry wondered if Ron was thinking about punching him. He reached out and tentatively touched him on the arm, feeling momentarily gratified when the redhead didn’t throw it off.

“Ron… are… are we okay?”

“No. No Harry, we’re not.” Ron replied quietly, and Harry’s heart sank as he removed his hand from Ron’s arm, nodding his head miserably in resignation. Ron turned to look at him, offering the merest hint of a sad smile. “But we will be. I’m not losing my best friend just because he’s lost his fucking mind and shacked up with some Slytherin bastard. But don’t expect me to like the git. I’ll tolerate him. For you. Eventually. Look, perhaps you should go home. I’ll talk to you later.”

Harry didn’t want to leave things between them uncertain, but knew Ron needed to think things over. The fact he hadn’t yelled, or hit Harry yet, were all promising signs. “Can you and Hermione come over later? To Grimmauld Place I mean? I’ll open my floo and you can come straight in. Please?”

Ron paused for a long moment, before giving the first true smile Harry had seen on his face since Harry had told the Weasleys he was gay.

“Thanks mate. I’d like that. We’ll be over about six.” Then he turned and trudged through the thick snow back to the Burrow, whilst Harry, heavy-hearted but also thinking that could have gone a lot worse, turned on the spot and apparated back home.

“You’re back early.” Draco said to Harry in slight surprise, looking up from his book as Harry walked into the drawing room, then, seeing the look on his face, discarded his book onto the chair, crossed the room and took Harry in his arms. “Right. Shit. Weasley knows about us then. I take it he didn’t exactly welcome the news. Who spilled?”

“Erm, I did,” Harry replied, somewhat dazedly, and Draco’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as he stared, wide-eyed, at his boyfriend. “I, er, sort of completely ruined Christmas lunch by coming out to everyone.”

He told Draco the whole story, how Ginny had pushed the situation and wouldn’t leave it, the twins’ bet, then relayed his conversation with Ron. Draco stroked Harry’s hair and held him close whilst the dark-haired boy was talking, not saying a word but inwardly seething. He really hated Weasleys.

“And I think Ron is going to be all right with this eventually, but they’re coming over this evening. I’m, um, going to ask them both to live with us. Leave Hogwarts I mean.” Harry caught the look of horror on Draco’s face and didn’t know whether to feel annoyance or amusement. “Draco, it’s been over three months since Paris and we’ve got nowhere since. Not a single lead, other than finding out about me being a horcrux too. We need them. There’s nothing left for them to research at Hogwarts. And I need to show them that they’re both still important to me- I don’t like the distance that’s formed between us the past few months.”

Draco knew deep down that Harry was right. They needed more people. If it had been anyone other than those two, Draco would have fully agreed. But, still… living with Weasley and Granger? Granger, Draco could probably make his peace with. She had supported Harry when he told her about his and Draco’s relationship, and Draco had to concede, grudgingly, that the girl was a genius. But the Weasel? Draco was pretty certain he’d have nothing in terms of brains to offer, and would be a loud-mouthed, uncouth housemate, who did things like leave his crockery in the sink for days on end until it began to fester. But Harry seemed to want him. And he and the mud- no, you can’t think like that anymore he scolded himself- Granger came as a package deal. You ask for one, you get both. It was through gritted teeth and false cheerfulness that Draco relayed his agreement of the plan to Harry, who beamed at him in response.

At six o’clock precisely that evening Harry’s floo burst into life in a sea of emerald flames, and seconds later a very sooty Ron and Hermione spilled inelegantly out onto the hearth rug, coughing and spluttering slightly. Draco smirked. He knew it was childish of him but he was somewhat gratified to note that his own floo journeys were conducted with much more decorum than theirs. It was a tiny but, in Draco’s mind, significant victory.

Hermione brushed her hands on her muggle jeans and, after greeting Harry warmly, extended her right one towards Draco in an offer of a handshake.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, and gave the blond a genuine smile. Draco was momentarily wrong-footed, before he reached out and accepted Hermione’s hand. “Gra- I mean, Hermione,” he replied, returning the smile. The name felt alien on his lips, but this was important to Harry. He would try his best, and draw on all his experience of formal Malfoy dinners, to show impeccable manners. He looked up and saw Ron, arms folded and face set in a scowl, standing by the floo, glaring.

“Weasley,” Draco offered to the red head. Ron ignored him.

“It’s ‘Draco’ now, is it?” He asked his girlfriend, the surprise in his voice clear. “Him? Who called you ‘mudblood’ for years and spoke about muggleborns like you’re all some kind of feral beast or something?”

Hermione sighed and gave Harry an apologetic look. “And as it was me he called by that term, don’t you agree Ronald that it is my decision whether or not I forgive him rather than yours?”

Ron stared at her for a second with his mouth slightly open and a pink tinge to his cheeks, before turning his attention back to Draco, who seemed just as stunned by Hermione’s apparent forgiveness of his actions as Ron did.

“Okay Malfoy, we need a chat. Just the two of us.” He walked to the doorway, indicating Draco should follow. Draco gave one last pleading look towards his boyfriend, which clearly said ‘don’t make me be alone with him’, but Harry actually thought it might help if they could have a ‘conversation’ alone. However he didn’t exactly want a fight to erupt between his lover and his best friend. He quickly drew his wand from his pocket.

“Accio Draco’s and Ron’s wands!” he commanded and caught them easily with the skill of a Seeker as they both shot out of their owner’s jean’s pockets and sped towards him. They both glared at Harry, who offered them an unrepentant smirk in return as his eyes followed them out of the room.

“How long before we have to go in after them and stop them killing each other?” he asked his friend, slight amusement in his voice. Hermione laughed.

“I’ll bet five minutes. Look, Harry, that may not have exactly been the ideal way to tell them all you know, but I was proud of you today.” She indicated the spot on the sofa next to her and, when Harry sat, she threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace, welcoming the familiar comfort of her arms.

“Ron really is on your side you know,” Hermione continued, after the pair broke apart. “After you left this afternoon and he came back in he yelled at his mum, saying it was your business if you’re gay or not. She didn’t take the news too well. I think she’s just disappointed about you and Ginny to be honest, and the fact she won’t be getting you as a son in law. It really is just Malfoy he has problems with. I’ve had two months to get used to this. He’s had five hours.”

“And, um, how was Ginny?” Harry was almost afraid to ask.

Ginny had not taken the news well, according to Hermione. After Harry had gone into the garden, and Ron had followed him out, she had unfrozen from the position she had adopted since Harry had come out, and burst into tears at the table, before fleeing to her room. Hermione had tried to follow her but Ginny had apparently locked her door by pushing a chair under the handle so it couldn’t be turned, given her inability to use magic outside of school for another eight months, and short of blasting the door down, Hermione couldn’t get in. Hermione had managed to catch Ginny call her a ‘two faced lying bitch’ through the door and managed to catch ‘Going to hex Harry’s balls off’ as she trudged back down the stairs.

In the few minutes of her absence Remus had made tea for the Weasleys and Tonks was comforting Molly, and the whole situation was extremely awkward. The Twins’ crude jokes about ‘The Chosen Bum’ did nothing to improve the situation. Hermione had quietly accepted her tea, avoiding the glares that Mrs Weasley was sending her way, before Molly suddenly erupted into a homophobic rant about ‘unnatural, nasty behaviour’ and ‘He seemed such a nice boy with good morals, how could I have misjudged him so badly?’ which, unfortunately for her, Ron had returned from his chat with Harry just in time to catch and he, along with Fred and George, had given her a very thorough dressing down. Overwhelming affection for his best friend and the twins filled Harry’s heart, but mixed in with this was the hideous dread that Mrs Weasley, someone he almost considered a mother to him in many ways, was severely disappointed in him and he’d broken Ginny’s heart. He pushed the thought away and returned his thoughts to the present.

“Hermione, there was another reason I wanted you and Ron to come over this evening. How would you feel about not going back to Hogwarts after Christmas? I mean, you both come and live here. I’ll be honest, we’re getting nowhere, and you’re no use in school. Even Draco agrees that we need you. And… I really miss you both. What do you say?”

Hermione’s face had lit up like the Weasleys’ Christmas tree, her eyes sparkling.

“Of course we will! We’ve been waiting for you to ask us! I even brought my whole trunk home for Christmas just in case. Thank you Harry.” And once again she threw her arms around Harry.

The pair talked for a few more minutes. It was decided that Ron and Hermione would stay at Grimmauld Place overnight and meet with Snape in the morning, before flooing back to the Burrow and breaking yet more bad news to Mrs Weasley. Harry had flirted with the idea of not telling Molly exactly where they were, even letting her think the pair had returned to Hogwarts, but Hermione looked scandalised. Harry also expressed concern that they had made the plans and not involved Ron or asked his opinion, but Hermione said Ron would be so excited that he wouldn’t mind what plans the couple had made in his absence. Harry was just beginning to wonder how Ron and Draco were getting on when he heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. He sighed and looked at Hermione, who nodded, and they both went to check on their boyfriends.

Harry had laid one hand on the door and was just about to open it when Ron’s angry voice yelled the words, “fucking cocksucker!” loud enough to fill the whole hallway. Hermione winced and Harry flushed as he pushed open the door, grateful that Snape had decided to stay in his room for the duration of Ron and Hermione’s visit.

Draco was smirking, leaning casually against the work surface, his arms folded nonchalantly in front of him whilst his left leg crossed his right at the ankles. He looked up when Harry and Hermione walked in and caught Harry’s eyes. Harry noticed a mischievous shine to them.

“Of course I’m a cocksucker Weasley. I’m in a homosexual relationship. And Harry here loves every second of it. But if you want to be pedantic about it, it’s Harry who’s the most recent cocksucker of the pair of us. He sucked me off magnificently in the shower the morning. Of course that was after he had fucked me hard in our bed. The shower was necessary to clean us both up.”

“Draco!” Harry yelled, and he smacked Draco’s arm, his face crimson with embarrassment, as Ron made a choking noise and Hermione’s jaw dropped.

The room was silent for a time. Harry’s face was still burning with mortification, Ron looked sick, Hermione as if she was about to burst into nervous giggles, and Draco looked smug.

“So!” said Hermione with a false gaiety to her voice, in an obviously desperate attempt to change the subject. “Um, Ron, Harry’s finally asked us to leave Hogwarts move in with him! Isn’t that brilliant! He’s letting us stay here tonight then we’ll talk to your mum tomorrow!”

“I want to move in Harry, but live with him? I don’t know if I can do it,” Ron replied.

“Fucking Hell Weasel, what will it take to prove to you I’m loyal to Harry? That I love him, for Merlin’s sake?” Draco snapped, his bravado forgotten.

“Show him your patronus,” Harry said quietly.

“You can produce a patronus?” Ron asked, surprised.

“I taught him,” Harry answered for Draco. “Look, it’s a lovely clear night. Let’s go into the garden. Patronuses look better in starlight. Please Draco, for me.”

Once the four were assembled Harry returned Draco and Ron’s wands to them. Draco raised his wand.

“Is it a ferret?” Ron mocked, and Draco quickly lowered his wand again, glaring at the redhead, but otherwise giving no acknowledgement he’d heard him. He raised his wand once more, focussing on the moment in Paris when Harry told him he was in love with him.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The huge lion erupted from Draco’s wand, charged round the garden then returned to Draco. He heard a gasp behind him which he thought was Granger. He turned round to reveal a beaming Harry and an astounded Weasel.

“Oh Draco, it’s beautiful” said Hermione, and extended an arm towards the lion as if to pet it. “It’s Harry, isn’t it? Harry’s stag represents his father, and this lion represents him. You really do love him, don’t you.”

Ron recovered from his shock and schooled his features into a sneer, ignoring his girlfriend’s words.

“Bad old pureblood Malfoy needs the Gryffindor half-blood to protect him does he? You really are a cowardly snake.” Draco knew he shouldn’t rise to the bait, but he did.

“And what’s yours? A Weasel? A slug? A fucking twat?”

Ron’s ears burned and he raised his wand. Harry initially thought Ron was going to hex Draco and was ready to cast a shield charm until he heard Ron also cast a patronus. The Jack Russell terrier shot out of the wand, its tail wagging excitedly.

“Oh, that’s impressive,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “What’s that going to do to the dementors? Bite their ankles? Cock a leg and piss on them?”

Ron really did train his wand on Draco then and Harry and Hermione both yelled, “Protego!” at the same time. Ron’s hex bounced off the double shield and rebounded, narrowly missing him, causing Draco to laugh.

Harry could feel his temper breaking but it was actually Hermione who yelled first.

“You complete and utter pair of moronic children!” she shrieked. “Ronald, Draco clearly loves Harry. They’ve put the past behind them. Do the same. Focus on what he has achieved recently, and acknowledge his role in bringing down Voldemort! Draco, do you feel threatened by Ron or something? You’re acting like the jealous lover. Ron is Harry’s best friend but he loves you. All Ron has ever been is a good and loyal friend to Harry, and you should respect their friendship even if you don’t like him. Now, it’s not exactly late but let’s all go up to bed. Ron, we’ve got both your mother and Professor Snape to deal with in the morning. Harry, I’m assuming Ron and I will be sharing? The room I had back just before fifth year okay still?”

Harry nodded numbly. Was Draco really jealous of Ron? Harry had never looked at Ron once that way, in fact the whole idea was just… no, don’t even think about it, mental scars Harry scorned himself. The four walked up to the floor where both their rooms were located, which was one up from Snape’s and Tonks and Lupin’s, and wished each other a good night and a final Merry Christmas. Even Ron and Draco managed to speak to each other with an ounce of manners and wish each other a formal ‘good evening’.

“You’re not jealous of Ron, are you?” Harry asked, once he and Draco were both in bed and they were ready for sleep. He felt Draco stiffen next to him and realised with a start that Hermione had been most perceptive once again.

“Not in the way Granger made it out,” Draco replied. “I know that you don’t think of him in ‘that’ way at all. But of course I’m envious of your closeness. He’s been the closest male to you throughout your life really. And we wasted so much time at each other’s throats. I guess I’d just like to have had more than the five months we’ve had so far, so you’d feel that close to me too.”

Harry leant forwards and kissed Draco deeply. When they separated he smiled down into the slightly dazed face of his lover.

“Ron may be my best friend, and has known me well for longer than you. But you’re my boyfriend, the love of my life. I feel closer to you than I have ever felt to anyone else ever. I do love Ron and Hermione, but I’m in love with you.”

He once more took Draco’s mouth in his, and the marginally chaste kiss soon became heated. It was if they’d not been together for weeks rather than hours; both boys’ bodies reacted to the kiss and clothes were hastily discarded. So lost in the moment were they that, for once, they forgot the silencing charm.

“I could get used to this” Ron grinned suggestively as he watched his girlfriend undressing for bed. “You me, one bed, waking up together.”

Hermione smiled and slipped in next to Ron, wearing an almost indecent lace nightie borrowed from Tonks that no longer fit over her baby bump, which Ron seemed to appreciate very much.

“You and Malfoy are going to have to stop fighting. For Harry’s sake,” she said, as she nestled into the crook of Ron’s arm. “Even you must be able to see that he does love Harry. And, admit it, you’ve never seen Harry happier.”

“No. No I haven’t,” Ron conceded. He stroked the side of Hermione’s face, before drawing her mouth close to his, where he captured it with his lips. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of arousal, when a sudden, ‘Oh Circe!’ in Harry’s voice filled their room, instantly replaced by the rhythmic thudding of a headboard banging against their party wall.

The image of where a part of his best friend might currently be located, or what he might currently be receiving, was enough to kill the erection that had begun to stir in Ron’s groin, even when Hermione hastily cast a silencing charm of her own, instantly cutting the sound.

“Malfoy really isn’t going to go away, is he?” Ron said sadly, the realisation that, like it or not, Draco Bloody Malfoy was now a large part of his life crashing over him like a whack on the head from a club being wielded by a troll as he extinguished the lamps with his wand and began to fall into an uneasy sleep.
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Harry Potter and the Black King