Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Extra Credit: ASE Oneshot Collection	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3969 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
A/N: Another one done! Took a while though… sorry about that :( RL is pretty full right now. I’ve been working away on more than one of these oneshots at a time, just going with what inspires me. This is the one I finished first. I hope it’s a good second installment. Many of you requested more of Harry’s POV, so this should deliver on that, at least!
As always, your reviews were wonderfully kind and a great motivator for me! If you reviewed “Enigma,” the first story in this collection, you’ll find responses at the end of this story.
And if you have reviewed ASE since the epilogue was posted, I have actually updated “Enigma” and have included responses to those reviews at the end of that story. I had meant to do that originally, when I first posted it, but like a dummy I forgot :( Apparently I’ve been very distractible lately! Anyway the responses are there now, so just go to the first story in this collection and take a look if you want to read.
Thanks so much, loves! I’ll see you again when I get another one of these done… hopefully soon! <3
Finely Made
“Mr. Potter! This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Greenslade.” Harry greeted the man behind the jewelry counter with a smile. He was by far the best goldsmith in wizarding London, and the person to whom Harry always came to purchase fine jewelry. He didn’t do it every year, but he liked to occasionally splurge on the important women in his life for their birthdays. He’d bought necklaces for Molly and Andromeda both, earrings for Hermione, a bracelet for Ginny. He’d always gotten a positive response and so he kept coming back to Mr. Greenslade, having faith in both his skill and taste.
Today, though, he was looking for something different. Not something pretty and shiny for one of his surrogate mothers or sisters, but something far more… personal. Something for Draco.
He sort of couldn’t believe he was doing it. But once he’d gotten the idea, he couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d never had the impulse to purchase expensive gifts for a lover before; all of his relationships so far had been too casual for that.
But Draco was different. Though Harry was still sorting out exactly what that meant, he was starting to realize that the feelings were real, and that they were more than affection. He couldn’t help but suspect that Draco felt the same. What they were building was new, fragile, but they were building towards something. Harry could feel it, and he wanted to mark that somehow. Draco’s birthday, which was coming up in June, seemed like a good time to do it.
Plus, there was something really appealing about the idea of seeing Draco wear something Harry had gotten him, even if no one else knew where it came from. It would be a sign of their connection, the same as the paper dragon and the paper stag that Harry had made. It always warmed his insides to see the dragon sitting so conspicuously on Draco’s desk, like a silent declaration.
Like Harry meant something to him.
“How can I help you today, sir?” Mr. Greenslade asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts. “Another lovely gift for a friend? I’ve just put out a new collection using woven gold. Necklaces, earrings…”
“Sounds beautiful,” said Harry. “But I’m actually thinking about… something more masculine. Cufflinks… was what I was considering.”
“Ah,” he said, holding up a spindly finger. “We have a wonderful variety for you to choose from. This case here,” he indicated towards his left, “contains all the cufflinks we have in stock. I’ll be happy to pull anything that strikes your fancy, if you’d like to take a closer look.”
“Thank you.” Harry looked at the rows and rows of pairs resting elegantly in the case while Mr. Greenslade, ever the gentlemen, found something else to do nearby, giving Harry time to consider his options.
There was everything imaginable, from simple and understated to bejeweled and eye-catching. Some had intricate inlaid designs of white or yellow gold, be it trees, birds in flight, even flowers, and those appealed the most to Harry of all the options. Yet there still wasn’t anything that was perfect, that called out to him as exactly suited to Draco.
“Anything catching your eye so far, Mr. Potter?” Mr. Greenslade asked him once Harry’d had substantial time to browse.
“They’re all exquisite,” said Harry. “Any of them would be a fine choice.”
“But nothing that is… exactly what you’re looking for,” the jeweler ventured shrewdly, but not unkindly.
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Harry admitted sheepishly. “I suppose I was looking for something… more personal, something that could only have come from me.”
“Do you mind if I ask the nature of your relationship with the recipient? Is he a friend or…?” The man trailed off suggestively.
“More than a friend,” said Harry, his cheeks a bit hot. “Much more.”
“I see,” the man said, nodding, the smallest of knowing twinkles in his blue eyes. “So this is a special gift.”
“Yes. That was my intention.”
“Then perhaps something custom made. I take custom orders, so long as you are willing to wait a few weeks for it to be filled.”
“Really? That…” Harry could easily wait a few weeks. Draco’s birthday was months away. “That might be just the right solution.”
“Very good then. We can settle on a design right now, if you have something in mind. May I inquire as to budget? It might determine the materials I use.”
“No budget,” Harry found himself answering easily. “Price is no object.”
“Very good, sir. Then shall we discuss design?”
The man took out a piece of parchment and a quill, asking as to size and shape and beginning to sketch. Harry pointed out that he liked the look of the ovular cufflinks with the inlaid designs, though he was still considering what design Draco would most like. What conveyed Harry’s feelings for him? Something that they shared, or something that represented Draco? He didn’t know Draco’s Patronus; he’d never seen the man cast that particular charm. Though a dragon could stand in just as well, just like their paper figures. Would Draco like that, dragon cufflinks? Or was it too on the nose?
“Would you like the two links to be identical, or would you like them to be different?” Mr. Greenslade asked him.
“Different? You can do that?”
“Of course. I can do anything you like.”
“So, you could do two different inlaid designs in the same style, so that they match?”
“Certainly, sir.”
A dragon and a stag, Harry immediately thought. One for Draco, one for Harry. The same but different, a pair.
He shared his idea with the jeweler, and the men sketched as Harry talked. They discussed the position of each creature within the design, how realistic or abstract Harry wanted it to look, how intricate he wanted them. The end results were quite beautiful, Harry thought, and he was a bit amazed.
“You can do that much detail in gold?” he asked.
“Indeed, Mr. Potter,” the man said smilingly. “I am quite skilled.”
“Of course,” Harry answered back, grinning as well. “I could never doubt you.”
“What color gold would you like me to use? I have yellow, white, or rose.”
“Oh, um…” He considered a moment. “I’m not sure. Not rose, I don’t think, but otherwise…”
“I agree. Rose is not very versatile.”
“What is most versatile, do you think? I want him to be able to wear these whenever he wants.”
“If that’s the case, might I recommend a blend of white and yellow gold? Those will match well with just about any dress robes or Muggle formalwear. Each color would be woven throughout the design.”
“Two different colors,” Harry said softly, thinking that over.
“Given the… well…” The man let out a delicate cough. “Given the symbolism I am assuming is intended with this particular gift, the blend of colors would fit quite well. Metals with different appearances, but with the same essence. It could be a unifying force between the two designs, make them… match, as you were hoping.”
“Same but different,” Harry said, because that was what he had just been thinking. “Belonging together.”
“Precisely.” His eyes flicked to Harry a moment. “It’s… quite romantic, actually.”
Harry felt himself flush once more. “Do you think it’s too much?”
“Not at all. Of course, it does depend on what you intend. But no, I don’t think it’s too much. I think anyone would be honored to receive such a gift, to receive such a sentiment.”
Harry considered that, and considered whether the “symbolism” Mr. Greenslade was referring to was what he intended to convey.
We belong together.
There was a quickening in his heart, simultaneously a sweet ache and a nervous squeeze. He felt reckless, afraid, and yet also sure.
“All right then. Yes. This is it. This is the design I want.”
It was only March; there was time. And he believed that what he and Draco had now would only deepen. By June, surely, he would know that this was right.
He would be ready.
***
“I don’t think I like this one as much as the first one,” Draco remarked, snuggling in closer to Harry’s side on the sofa.
“Nor do I. Raiders is best, no question,” Harry said, putting an arm around him.
“I just don’t like the blond girl as much as I liked Marion. Marion was better suited to him. She had more fight in her.”
“Hmmm…” Harry replied, grinning. “I actually rather like blonds myself.” He dipped his head, nipping at Draco’s jaw.
He could hear Draco’s answering grin rather than see it. “And I like them darker, as you know. The rugged, adventurous types.”
“Like Indiana?” Harry teased. “I knew you thought he was fit.”
Draco turned, catching Harry’s mouth with his own. “Yes, him. Among others,” he replied coyly, his lips against Harry’s.
“Anyone I know?”
“Yeah, I think you know him pretty well.” They were snogging properly now, and Harry moaned into the kiss. Draco was pressing him backward against the armrest of the sofa, and Harry was happy to surrender to it, an arm snaking around Draco’s waist to pull him closer.
“You’re distracting me,” Draco accused.
“Mmmm, so?”
“So, I want to watch the film.”
“But you said you didn’t like this one as much.” Harry’s mouth chased Draco’s as he started to pull away.
“That doesn’t mean I dislike it. And I want to know what happens.”
Harry was going to argue some more, mostly good-naturedly, but he felt a tickle in Grimmauld’s wards, followed by a tapping at the kitchen window.
“It’s an owl,” Harry said. He gave Draco a quick peck before making to stand up. “I’ll go let it in.”
“Do you want to pause it?” Draco asked as Harry was walking away. “I don’t really know how to work this thing.”
“No need,” Harry called back to him. “I’ve seen all of these movies a million times. I won’t be long.”
It was his intention to be quick. He didn’t much care about watching the film, but snuggled up on the sofa with Draco was one of his favorite places to be, and he didn’t want to be out of that position long.
They were in the middle of another relaxed week at Grimmauld Place, Draco having joined him for the Easter break. It was turning out exactly as Harry had hoped, even better than the winter holidays. They were so easy around each other now, so natural. Harry wanted it to never end.
The owl at the kitchen window wasn’t one Harry recognized, but he let it in all the same, noting the package tied to its leg. His stomach gave a jolt when he saw the distinctive Greenslade Fine Jewelry logo on the small wrapped parcel. It could only be one thing.
He untied the package, thanked the owl, and let it fly off into the gray afternoon. Then, with a surreptitious look through the doorway into the sitting room, to make sure Draco was focused on the television, Harry removed the paper.
The box was covered in the traditional black velvet, and Harry eagerly lifted the lid to see what was inside.
They were just as Mr. Greenslade had sketched. Better even, because now they shone with the brightness of polished gold, newly minted. The white and yellow golds together had turned out well, looking natural and subtle rather than garish. And the designs themselves… The dragon and the stag were both wonderfully detailed, just as the jeweler had promised, and looked very handsome side by side like that. They complemented each other, and Harry found himself strangely moved by the sight of them together.
A pair. And a very fine one at that.
Draco would like them. Harry really believed he would. They were suited to him: classic, yet distinctive. Unique.
“Oh, sweet Merlin!” he heard Draco cry from the other room, and he instinctively snapped the box shut quickly and hid it behind his back. But Draco wasn’t paying him any attention, of course, just reacting to whatever was on screen.
Still, Harry probably shouldn’t spend a lot of time ogling Draco’s secret birthday present in his kitchen, not while Draco was in the next room. Harry snuck quickly into his study, and placed the cufflinks in his desk drawer. He would retrieve them later, maybe take them to Hogwarts with him, just in case… well, just in case he got impatient and wanted to give Draco his present early.
Now that they had arrived and he had seen them, it was going to be hard to wait.
He went back into the sitting room, already formulating a story about what had arrived via owl in case Draco asked. But Draco turned to look at him with a horrified expression, and it was clear that the owl was the last thing on his mind.
“Someone gets their heart ripped out!” he cried.
“Oh, yeah…” said Harry, forcing his thoughts to shift back to the film. “I meant to warn you about that when it was coming. I didn’t realize we were so close to that scene yet.”
Draco huffed. “Yes, a warning most definitely would have been in order.” He sounded quite put out, but still made room for Harry to join him again on the sofa, and still leaned into him as Harry got comfortable. “It was disgusting.”
“I’m sorry, love,” Harry said, running a hand through Draco’s hair. “If it’s any consolation, it’s completely fake. They didn’t actually rip out someone’s heart for the film.”
“Well, yes, I figured that,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “But it’s the idea of it, you know, even if it was fake.”
Harry kissed him on the cheek. “You’re right, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
Draco looked at him sideways, a small, sly twitch to his lips. “I’m sure I can think of a few ways. I do believe another… distraction is in order, don’t you?”
Laughing darkly, Harry leaned over to place his lips on Draco’s beautiful, pale neck. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Draco arched, giving Harry more access, humming his approval. Harry worked his mouth down Draco’s neck as his hand snuck up under his shirt. The sharp gasp Draco gave as Harry found his already pebbled nipple informed the brunet as to just how easy this distraction was going to be to achieve. He grinned against Draco’s delicious skin.
Yes, it was going to be difficult to wait. Draco was intoxicating, and Harry knew he had been intoxicated for quite a while now.
He would find a way to wait, though. He would make sure that the timing was perfect.
***
Sometimes, he wondered if he shouldn’t have waited.
Maybe, if he had given Draco the cufflinks when things were so good between them, none of this would have turned out the way it had. Maybe Draco would have fallen more deeply for him, rather than pulled away and decided to move on.
Could Harry have turned the tide? Had he merely missed his window?
But that was a stupid notion, he would realize a moment later, after giving it some thought. It wasn’t like some jewelry was going to make Draco want to stay with him. If Draco had wanted to stay, he would have, wouldn’t he? He would have stayed because he cared about Harry, because he wanted a relationship with him.
But Draco didn’t want a relationship, which he had made perfectly clear. Over the course of their… experiences together – or whatever Harry was referring to them as these days – Draco had been plenty vocal about his intention to eventually commit to a woman one day, when he was ready. Harry had heard him speak of it multiple times, though less so in those final months. Harry thought maybe Draco had changed his mind, but he clearly hadn’t.
Men were a temporary distraction. Harry had merely been a distraction, something to comfort Draco in his time of need.
And yet still, Harry wondered… what if he had just asked? What if he’d had the forethought – or perhaps simply the courage – to suggest the idea that Draco could choose Harry instead, that they could be something more than they had been? What if it was that the possibility was simply so out of Draco’s frame of reference for what his future could hold that he hadn’t even considered it? Maybe all he’d needed was for Harry to make the first move.
If that were the case, it meant Harry could still ask. Hogwarts was still in the throes of spring term. He saw Draco just about every day. Harry could go to Draco and just ask, find out once and for all if the possibility was there.
And yet, he also could not. Because it wasn’t simply a matter of courage anymore, not after the way they had left things, not with all the hurt, anger, confusion that Harry felt.
He had known joy before, and he had known pain. Plenty of both. But never had they existed so intertwined before. Before this, he had never known what it was like for one of the best nights of his life to give way to one of his worst days. He’d never gotten the first taste of something so good and real only to have it snatched away before he’d even really learned to appreciate it.
So he was a bit bitter, one could say. And angry. Definitely angry. At Draco, mostly, for not seeing, not appreciating, what they had, and also (perhaps unfairly) for simply being different and wonderful and everything Harry wanted.
There was plenty of anger directed at himself too, sometimes for not being brave enough to say something, sometimes for having fallen for Draco in the first place, sometimes for agreeing to such a finite, limited scope of a relationship with someone Harry clearly would become more attached to than he ever had anyone else.
He should have seen it coming, he should have kept his distance, he should have said something… blah, blah, blah. Round about in circles. It was exhausting, and tortuous, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
The only thing that made it better was going to visit Ron, Hermione, and (especially) Rose. They were patient with him; they didn’t force him to talk, but they always listened when he did. Their little cottage was a safe place, and holding a tiny human in his arms helped give him some perspective.
Life goes on. This too shall pass.
Hermione said he just needed time, and he had learned long ago to trust her wisdom.
So he let time pass. He taught classes, marked essays, showed up for his duties, and avoided those who would remind him of what he had lost: namely Draco and Francesca. He visited his friends and did his part to help them adjust to life as parents.
He considered, occasionally, going out to a bar and picking up a stranger for anonymous sex. Just to make his mind off things. But he let those fleeting ideas go without any real interest in them. He knew, instinctively, that a casual tryst would have the opposite effect. It would make him think more of Draco, not less. He wagered the experience would just make him sad, and he hardly needed more of that.
By the end of May, as the school year came to a close, Harry found things had gotten easier. The fog had lifted somewhat, and he felt less like he was simply drifting through a routine. He felt more present, less resentful. He could smile without it feeling forced. He could think of Draco with some fondness, and only the smallest sting of rejection.
He still had questions. There was still confusion, a wondering of what could have been. But he believed he was moving forward towards acceptance, and he welcomed it, along with the start of the summer holidays. He could focus on other things, the people who were most important to him, like Teddy. He could come to terms with the fact that, despite his feelings, he and Draco were not meant to be.
He set to packing up his classroom as usual, a task that always took him longer than he expected. He had accumulated way too many random magical instruments over the years, all of which required careful storage. Each year he did this he told himself he would get rid of a few things, make some space. But, inevitably, nostalgia won the day and he couldn’t bring himself to throw out any of it.
He was walking about the room, collecting smaller objects to store in the trunk that lay open by his desk, when he heard the voice behind him.
“Surely you don’t take all of that home with you over the summer.”
That voice only gave him a small lurch in his stomach now, and he turned towards it. Draco wasn’t an unwelcome visitor today, not on this last day.
“Not at all,” he said easily, answering the man’s question with a small smile. “It would be quite a pain to lug these back and forth from Hogwarts. I just have to lock them up, to be on the safe side, until my return.” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his students, but teenagers didn’t always have the best judgment, or understand the consequences of their whims, and he chose to be cautious.
“Of course.” Draco stepped further into the room, looking around with his hands in his pockets. “I imagine some are quite fragile, easily disrupted.”
“It’s a bit silly, really, because I hardly ever use them. Just keep them around for nostalgia’s sake, I suppose,” Harry said, echoing what he had just been thinking about only minutes before. “Some are from my time in the Aurors, but I inherited a lot from Mad-Eye Moody, believe it or not. I don’t know what made him want to bequeath most of his Dark Detectors to me, but he did.”
“Perhaps he saw your future better than you could: talented Auror turned even more talented professor,” Draco ventured, and Harry didn’t think he was imagining the warmth in his tone. Even now, compliments from Draco gave him a surge of pleasure, and he looked away, not wanting to dwell on it. He began closing and locking his trunk instead.
“It certainly gives off the air of eccentric professor, I think. Given all those strange instruments Dumbledore used to have in his office. Of course, he used his to solve all sorts of problems. Whereas I just use mine to give off the illusion that I know what I’m talking about.” Harry would never be Albus Dumbledore, though some days he wondered if that was really a good thing.
“Isn’t that rule number one of teaching, to always give off the illusion that you know what you’re talking about,” Draco said, now sounding amused. “Even when you have no clue?”
Harry allowed himself a laugh at that, and how very true it was. “Yes, I suppose it is.”
Draco didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, and Harry chose to occupy himself with continued packing. He took a sheet out from one of his cabinets and started working on covering his foe glass, wondering, for about the millionth time, why he still kept the thing. It took up a lot of space, and Harry didn’t really have any foes to speak of anymore.
“When do you head out?” Draco asked into the silence.
“Today or tomorrow,” Harry answered. “I’m not in a hurry. You?”
“In a few hours, probably. I’m nearly packed, and my classroom’s done. Not much else, really.”
“Sure. You’re Apparating?”
“That’s right. Don’t see much point in taking the train.”
No, Harry couldn’t imagine Draco making that particular choice. “I’ve done it a couple of times,” he said, thinking back. “It’s… an experience.”
“Mmm…” Draco hummed thoughtfully. “Remind you of our school days?”
“No, actually. Those train rides were enjoyable, all in all, back then. Exciting. Now as a teacher, they’re just… loud.”
He heard Draco give a genuine laugh. “You’re getting old, Potter.”
“You’re telling me.” That was truer than Harry really cared to admit.
Draco didn’t seem to have anything else to say on the matter and went silent again. Harry wandered his classroom, looking for anything that he’d missed.
“I suppose I just wanted to say goodbye before I go,” Draco said suddenly, his tone cautious and his voice a bit strained. “It… seemed wrong to just go without saying goodbye.”
Harry felt himself tense. It was the first mention, the first hint, at what they had shared between them in a number of weeks, and Harry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that. Then again, they were about to part ways, and he supposed it was better to acknowledge it than pretend it never happened. Despite everything, he didn’t want to pretend it never happened.
“I’m glad you did,” he said, almost meaning it. “We haven’t spent much time together lately.”
“No,” Draco agreed. “And I miss that, you know. I miss… our friendship. It’s been hard, not having you around, if I’m honest.”
Harry stared at the floor, unsure how capable he was of hearing this at the moment.
“I know part of it is my fault,” Draco went on, sounding a bit pleading. “I know I ended the arrangement abruptly and it made things weird between us. And I know it can’t suddenly become not weird overnight, but… can we…” He paused, and Harry waited, finding it a bit hard to breathe. “Can we have that again? A friendship, I mean. A proper one. Maybe not right now, but after the summer? After we’ve had some… space?”
A friendship. A proper one. In some ways, that was what Harry had wanted from the beginning, since Draco’s return to Hogwarts. Or maybe it was what he had deluded himself into thinking. Some part of him wondered if he had always wanted more than that all along.
But he also knew what it took for Draco to come to him like this, to admit these feelings. Draco had, for all his articulation, a lot of trouble saying what he felt, at showing himself in any kind of vulnerable way. He turned, meeting Draco’s eyes for the first time in a long time, and he saw so much there: sadness, guilt, need, fear.
“I’d like that,” he found himself saying. If that was what he was going to get, he supposed he would take it. Draco meant enough to him that it would be worth it “After the summer. Once we’ve had some space.”
“Good.” Draco released a relieved breath. “It would mean a lot to me. I can’t help but feel I’ve rather… bollocksed it all up.” He shook his head. “Our friendship I mean. And for that I’m very sorry.”
It was an apology, one Harry hardly expected. Draco, in truth, hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Harry had finally found a way to come to terms with that. “You didn’t. I haven’t handled… well…” He stopped himself from going down that road. He knew where it would lead. He couldn’t admit how angry and hurt he had been, not without also laying out all of his feelings, which would only make Draco uncomfortable. “It will be all right,” he settled on. “We’ll figure it out.” And maybe that was true.
“Yes. Somehow.”
Harry could only nod. His chest felt a bit tight.
“I should go,” Draco said, after a minute.
Harry swallowed. “All right.”
“So. Goodbye. For now.”
“Bye. For now.”
Harry watched the blond, waiting for him to turn and go. He didn’t particularly want him to go, and yet he also wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear his presence. Just him being there, looking at Harry the way he was looking at him, was making him remember everything, and it was very inconvenient timing.
Draco strode forward suddenly and, to Harry’s utter shock, wrapped his arms around the brunet. Harry stiffened, not knowing what to do or what this meant, but Draco didn’t let go. Harry softened, realizing he was being ridiculous. This was a goodbye hug, between two people who had been intimate. Or maybe just between two friends.
Harry found it didn’t care which one it was. It felt so good to be back in Draco’s arms and he simply lost himself, clutching Draco to him and breathing deeply. Everything about him, the feel of him, the smell of him, made Harry feel safe, and he chose to enjoy the feeling for as long as it lasted.
It didn’t make any sense, or perhaps it did. He loved Draco, and though Draco had broken his heart, it didn’t change his feelings. It didn’t change the visceral reality that Harry was more at home with Draco than with anyone else.
It had to end eventually, and Harry knew it. He knew the moment that Draco squeezed him tighter, just for a second, that he was about to pull away. Harry let him, knowing there was no point in hanging on. This was it.
But Draco surprised him once again, because he didn’t go far. Instead, Draco’s hands came to frame Harry’s face, and he looked into Harry’s eyes with something Harry could only describe as longing.
Which didn’t make any sense. Because Draco had moved on. Hadn’t he?
“Have a good summer,” Draco said, his voice rough, and as though he were saying something else entirely.
Harry felt himself nod, speechless at the depth of feeling in Draco’s whole expression, at the tenderness of his hands against his cheeks. He felt shocked, but simultaneously desperate, willing Draco to say something else, to explain, to help him understand what was happening.
But then Draco pulled away for real, his expression going blank, and Harry felt, all over again, like he’d lost something vitally important.
“I’ll see you soon,” said Draco, before turning to go. He crossed the room, not looking back, and reached for the door.
“Goodbye, Draco,” Harry said. He wasn’t even sure Draco heard him. The door closed only a second later, and Harry was alone once more.
***
It was June 4^th, the day before Draco’s birthday. Harry had only been home from Hogwarts a little while, but already he was feeling the distance, the separation from Draco. He was miles away, and felt like it, yet still never far from Harry’s thoughts.
Harry was having a bit of a war with himself. Draco’s birthday was nearly upon him. If a person were to send a gift to the man, with the intention of it arriving on time, that person ought to send it by today. And Harry had a gift for Draco.
Well, sort of.
He had the cufflinks. He’d had them since Easter break. He’d carried them with him to Hogwarts, and he’d carried them back to Grimmauld Place at the end of the year. Though he and Draco were no more, he couldn’t seem to let them go. Harry kept coming back to them, pulling them out of the top drawer of his wardrobe and looking at them, wondering what he should do with them.
Getting rid of them never crossed his thoughts in any kind of serious way. Yet what was he keeping them for, if not to give them to Draco?
Maybe he should just send them. The daring part of him wanted to do it, just send them off and see what chaos ensued. Maybe Draco would be thrilled, moved, touched, by the gesture. Maybe enough to reach out to Harry…
Or maybe not. Maybe he wouldn’t get their meaning at all.
If Harry were really daring, he would write a letter to go along with it, explaining the significance of the gift and his feelings for Draco. He could already imagine how the letter would begin, and where it would lead:
Dear Draco, he would write.
Happy birthday. I hope the day is lovely and that you spend it surrounded by friends. I find myself wishing I could be there to celebrate with you, but I know you said you needed space, and maybe that’s for the best…
Ugh. No. That was no good. If Harry were respecting Draco’s request for space, he wouldn’t be sending a letter in the first place, would he? He needed a different approach.
I find myself wishing I could be there to celebrate with you, but this gift, and this letter, will have to do for now. We have much to talk about, and I suppose I hoped this letter could be the start of that.
Yes. Much better. Now for the meat of it.
Draco… I don’t know how else to do this except to be completely open and honest. I have no idea if you even want to hear what I have to say, but I want to try. There’s so much I didn’t say to you when we were together, so much that I held back. It’s hard to understand why, now, with you gone and me wondering if I’ve missed my chance to keep you, but I think it has a lot to do with fact that these feelings are new for me. I’m inexperienced with love, and that makes me uncertain and, frankly, scared. We had an arrangement; we made agreements. So every time I came close to sharing the depth of my feelings I would second-guess myself, knowing I was going against those agreements and fearful that you would resent me – or worse, reject me. I know it’s not very Gryffindor of me, but it’s the truth.
I can’t say when it was that I started falling in love with you. The truth of it is, you had me rather hooked from the beginning, but I have no way of pinning down when lust gave way to love. I think of Christmas at Grimmauld fondly, as a time when I felt more at peace than I had in a long time, just being with you. Christmas as a holiday is a struggle for me sometimes. Family is a struggle for me. I don’t always feel like I belong. But with you, it felt like I could do anything. I could handle anything, because I knew that when I came home, you would be there.
But there were times before that. There was the night you let me inside you for the first time, the night you said you wanted to let go of your hang-ups and be brave. Merlin, Draco, the feelings you instilled in me then. They were more than admiration and respect. I can’t even describe it, what it was like to feel that much trust from you. We had more, even then, than what our agreements dictated, and I think you know that. The way you looked at me sometimes, the things you said, even the way we left things when you came to say goodbye at the end of spring term… They all leave me wondering, hoping, that maybe you understand the same thing that I do.
Draco, we belong together.
Harry stopped, closing the velvet box with an unsteady huff of breath. He couldn’t keep going. As much as everything he thought of writing was true, he didn’t know if he could ever write that letter, let alone send it. It was asking too much, assuming too much. He could have it all wrong, and he knew that.
Draco had left. Draco had broken his heart once already. Harry was not sure what he would do if it turned out Draco was going to break it all over again.
No. No. He couldn’t bear it. Not now. Maybe later. He put the closed box on top of his wardrobe and promised himself he would think it over. That was the best he could do. The internal debate would rage on, though one thing was for certain: if he did ever send this gift, it was certain to be late.
***
Weeks passed, and Harry filled his time as he had intended. He saw Teddy often, taking him flying or to do Muggle activities like skating, which he was getting increasingly better at. In the evenings Harry could frequently be found at Ron and Hermione’s for dinner, where he held Rose and talked to the couple about everything imaginable, save for the one thing that was most on his mind.
When he hadn’t made specific social plans he usually ended up staying at Grimmauld, though he wasn’t technically alone. The renovators had started in earnest on the third floor project, and they made plenty of noise. Harry welcomed it, actually, and on some days even found himself volunteering to help out. There were walls that needed to be demolished and a large hammer available for when they were inclined to do it the Muggle way. There was something very satisfying about swinging that hammer, watching the walls come down piece by piece. It took his mind off things.
Like the cufflinks on top of his wardrobe that were still waiting for him to make a decision. He was putting it off, and he knew it.
He was happy to receive, later in June, a call from David and an invitation to grab coffee with him and Paul one afternoon. He was pleasantly surprised, since David tended to invite him to parties more often these days than one-on-one get-togethers, and Harry was hardly in the partying mood at the moment. He missed his Muggle friends, and readily accepted the invitation to meet up with them.
They were waiting for him when he arrived at the cafe, having already grabbed a table by a window. They stood to greet him, and Harry smiled as he was embraced by both of his friends. They invited him to sit, and he did, all the while making small talk with them about how the summer as going so far.
“Do you prefer it, being away from school?” David asked him. “Or do you miss it?”
“A bit of both,” said Harry with a wistful smile. The waiter came and they all placed their coffee orders. “I love my work, and the students are great. And some of my closest friends are there. But I have a whole community here in London, too. There’s Teddy, and the Weasleys…”
“Teddy… that’s your godson, right?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered, pleased that Paul had remembered. He didn’t talk much about Teddy, or most of the other people in the wizarding side of his life. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together this summer.” Flying, mostly, though Harry could hardly bring that up. “He really likes sport. And he’s gotten into skating this past year. I take him to the rink sometimes.”
“That must be nice,” said David.
“It is. I try to make time for him every summer, honestly. But the older he gets the more important it is to make that a priority, you know? Plus, his grandmother is getting old, and I think she appreciates that I get him out of the house. Give her a break sometimes, you know?”
“He lives with his grandmother,” said Paul. “I didn’t realize that. Where are his parents?”
“Oh,” Harry said, forgetting he had never really told his Muggle friends this story. “They’re… dead, unfortunately. They both died in a… in an accident, when Teddy was only a few weeks old. So he is being raised by his grandmother, with my help.”
“Wow,” said David, leaning back in his chair. “Wow. I had no idea.”
He saw David and Paul exchange a look, and could tell there was something on both their minds.
“Yeah, I don’t talk about it much, I guess. Thinking about Teddy’s parents still makes me sad.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I think that I could have helped… stopped it somehow, I don’t know. Survivor’s guilt, I suppose. I’ve got, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “… rather a lot of that, to tell you the truth.”
His two friends exchanged that look again. David shifted, looking a bit discomfited, but also as though he was about to say something.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Harry said quickly.
“No, that’s not it at all, Harry,” David said, glancing at Paul once more. “It’s just that, you don’t really ever talk about your past, and you share very little about your life. And Paul and I have recently…” He chewed on his lip. “We’ve realized recently that when we see you, we always talk about us, or politics, or the movies we’ve seen recently, or whatever. But never about you. And we just… wanted you to know…” He trailed off, but Paul nodded encouragingly at him. “We want you to know that we want to know more about you, that we care about you. We’d love to hear you talk more about your past, and your godson, and everything. It won’t make us uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that we want to force you to share,” Paul cut in, perhaps in reaction to Harry’s furrowed brow. “But we want you to know that you can. That we’ll be happy to hear anything you want to tell us.”
“Thanks,” said Harry, wondering where this was coming from, all of a sudden. It reminded him, vaguely, of a conversation he’d had with Draco all those months ago, right after David’s party. Draco had pointed out then how little Harry’s Muggle friends must know about his past. Harry couldn’t help but wonder now if there was some kind of connection. “I appreciate that.”
“We know you have other people to talk to,” said David. “Like those friends from childhood that you mentioned. The ones who just had a baby, right?”
“Yeah. Ron and Hermione,” said Harry, nodding. “I talk to them a lot. But you know it’s nothing personal against you guys. It’s just that, like you said, they’ve known me since childhood. They knew my history without me ever having to tell them. They’ve always known. And that makes it… easier, I guess.”
“We’re not taking it personally,” Paul assured him. “If anything, we just feel bad. Like maybe, because we’ve never asked you about your past, you would think that we don’t care.”
“I know you do,” said Harry. “I guess I’m just… a private person is all. I don’t know. It’s hard to, um…” To his surprise, he actually felt his throat tighten with emotion, and he wondered where that was coming from. Why now? “Look, I…” Did he want to share this? Was this something he wanted Paul and David to understand about him?
If they don’t know who you are, Draco’s words from that night came back to him, then they’ll never know who you are. There was wisdom in that.
And why couldn’t he share some part of it with these two men, who he had known for years? They didn’t want anything from him except friendship. They had no other agenda. Harry needed to learn to trust that, to not always guard himself out of habit.
“I don’t like to make too big a fuss about all of it,” he began, crossing his arms over his chest, “but the truth is, my childhood was absolute shite, and my adolescence wasn’t all that much better. My parents died when I was only a year old and I was sent to live my aunt and uncle. Problem was, they never got on with my parents, and they hated me, and they abused me, pretty… pretty substantially.”
“Physically?” David asked softly.
“Yeah. And psychologically. They locked me in rooms, they starved me, they told me my parents were worthless low-lifes who never amounted to anything, and I was going to be the same as them. Sometimes…” Harry’s hand tightened on his own bicep, the nails digging in, and he could feel himself closing up, closing off. But he made himself speak anyway, just like that day, in bed with Draco, when he’d told the whole truth. “Sometimes my uncle beat me. Both of you have seen me shirtless. You’ll have seen the scars.”
“Oh my God,” said Paul, as if in realization.
“Look, don’t…” Harry said, waving a hand. “Don’t go down that road, ok? It’s not… it’s in the past. I’ve had loads of therapy, and I’ve dealt with it. I hardly think about it anymore.” That was only partially true, but he hoped it would make his friends feel better. The looks on their faces indicated that they might regret bringing it up, causing him more pain. “When I was eleven, I went off to boarding school,” Harry reassured them. “And things got a lot better after that. I made friends, I had teachers who cared about me. It wasn’t all great, mind you. I still struggled. I was a troubled kid, in some ways. Maybe for… obvious reasons,” he gave them a sardonic smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Bad things continued to happen… I was still mistreated when I went home in the summer, and I wasn't always very popular. And I lost some people close to me, including Teddy’s parents. And a few others.” He shook his head. “Death and loss was a part of my reality for a long time. It made it hard for me to get close to people. And at the same time, I clung very tightly to the few people I trusted. Like Ron and Hermione. It wasn’t always healthy, but it was how I coped. And I got better… I’m still trying to be better about that. It’s a learning process, for sure.”
He looked at his friends, to see how they had taken all of this. They were both leaned in across the table, just listening raptly. Harry felt both good and strange about that.
“The older I get, the easier is gets,” he said, and he was relieved to find that that was true. “As you know, I joined the police force right out of school, when I was 18. But that was just more violence and sadness and… I actually hated it. So I quit and became a teacher instead. And that changed everything. I started to be truly happy. And I embraced my sexuality, came out to my friends, started, you know…” He grinned involuntarily. “… making up for lost time by sleeping with every man I found attractive.”
Paul and David chuckled knowingly, and Harry joined in. “And now… here I am. It’s a process but… I’ve come a long way.” He looked between the two men. “And that’s it, really. I’m sorry I never… shared any of that before. It doesn’t usually cross my mind, honestly, to share that kind of stuff, not unless someone asks.”
“Yeah, that’s essentially what Draco said,” Paul mused. “And he was right.”
“Draco?” Harry asked, his stomach flipping. “He talked to you?”
“He didn’t tell us anything specific, don’t worry,” said David. “He was just annoyed with us, because we were…” He trailed off, suddenly looking uncomfortable again. He turned to Paul, and the two of them seemed to have some sort of silent communication. “All right, here’s the thing,” David said, looking at Harry once more. “You know we love you, right? And we think you’re wonderful, and everything.”
“But…” Harry prompted, unable to help a small smile.
“Well, we got on a bit of a thing, the night of Jack’s party. With Draco. About how you’re so hard to get to know. We didn’t mean anything bad by it, it was just an observation, mostly.”
Paul nodded emphatically.
“Ok…” said Harry, wondering what the big deal was. “I mean, I know I can be hard to get to know. That’s fine…”
“We just didn’t want you to think we were talking behind your back.” Paul said. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Ok, I get it,” said Harry. He really wasn’t all that bothered.
“Well, Draco minded, apparently,” said David, mouth twisting wryly. “He went off on us, actually.”
“Draco did.”
“Yeah, about how we weren’t being fair, about how you’d never shared the more personal parts of your life because we’d never asked, and how you had things that you didn’t like to talk about and only shared with people you felt you could trust.”
“He said all that.”
“Yes,” David said emphatically. “He was very defensive of you. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you about it, actually, although it sort of makes sense. He seemed to feel a bit guilty afterwards, like maybe he was out of line.”
“He meant well,” Paul chimed in. “He meant it out of love.”
“Out of love,” Harry said softly. “Maybe. More likely out of friendship. He’s… very loyal, actually.”
Paul and David were silent for a minute, thinking over what Harry had just said.
“You two haven’t made it official yet then, I wager,” David said.
“Official?”
“You were sleeping together, weren’t you? Draco confirmed that you were.”
“He did?”
“Not that he needed to,” said Paul, laughing. “The way you looked at each other, even from across the room… It was a bit hard to miss, wasn’t it?”
“Clear as day,” agreed David.
“Yeah, we had a thing,” Harry admitted. No use denying it, if Draco had already shared the truth. Harry certainly didn’t care who knew. If he’d had his way, he’d have told the world.
“Had,” said David, his voice suddenly flat.
“Yes. Had.” Harry took a sip of coffee.
“But it’s over?”
“Yes,” Harry confirmed, staring at the table. “It ended… he ended it, the morning after Jack’s party.”
David made a sort of whistling sound between his teeth, sitting back in his chair, while Paul, at the same time, said, “What? That makes no sense.”
No, it doesn’t, Harry wanted to agree. He had certainly been blindsided too. But he merely shrugged. “It wasn’t serious. He was ready to move on.”
He could feel both of them staring at him, and he knew he was giving himself away, moping as he was. But how could he talk about Draco, about his leaving, without being sad?
“You weren’t, I take it,” David asked, but as though it wasn’t really a question.
Harry met their concerned gazes a moment before returning his to the table. “No, I wasn’t. I, um… had pretty strong feelings for him. I thought… I had notions that maybe we could make a go of it. A relationship, you know? But…” He shrugged. “Didn’t work out. Obviously.”
“Did you tell him you wanted to make a go of it?” David asked incisively.
Harry flicked his eyes to David again. “Not in so many words,” he admitted.
“No,” said David, crossing his arms. “I thought not.” He leaned forward again. “Draco mentioned… he said something about it being casual, a fling. And yet, at the same time, the way he talked about you… He was so defensive of you, but it was more than that. It was… I can’t put it into words.”
“Passion, caring,” Paul filled in. “Loyalty, like you said. But more. Commitment.”
“No,” Harry cut them off. This was too hard to hear, after everything, after the hope he’d had before. “The loyalty, yes, I believe that. And I even believe he would defend me, but… he didn’t… he doesn’t love me.”
“How do you know?” David asked.
“He wouldn’t have left me if he loved me.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Paul insisted.
Harry knew, deep down, that they were right. He’d had his own doubts, his own questions, about Draco’s reasons for calling off their arrangement. Sometimes it didn’t seem to make any sense to him. But he also didn’t want to get his hopes up. He still couldn’t bear another letdown. He really couldn’t.
“He told me he needed to move on. He told me he needed space. He cares about me; I know that. He wants to be friends again, once we get back to school. Those are the sort of things someone says when they don’t want you, aren’t they? Hell, I’ve said those things to… I don’t know how many men.” He ran a hand through his hair, realizing that was true.
“And what do you want, Harry?” David asked. “Do you even know?”
“I want him,” Harry found himself saying. “Just him. God, if I could…” He stared down at his hands, where he was anxiously picking at his fingernails. “If he could ever love me, that would be it, I would… There’s no doubt in my mind that I could commit to him. But he doesn’t. He wants to be friends. So… I have to live with that. I can learn to live with it.”
All three were quiet for a long time, letting Harry’s confessions hang in the air.
“Maybe you don’t want to hear this…” David said finally. “But I really think this is the best thing that could have happened to you. I think it’s better this way, at least to some extent.”
“David,” said Paul. “How can you say that?”
Harry had to wonder the same thing, though he merely gaped at David incredulously rather than said his thoughts aloud.
“It’s out of love!” David insisted.
“Out of love?” Paul echoed incredulously. “That doesn’t give you a free pass to just say whatever-“
But David cut him off with a raised hand, leaning toward Harry again. “It’s out of love, Harry. That’s why I say this. Because you’re my friend and your happiness is important to me. And this, this, with Draco, was your first shot at real happiness with someone. And I know you’re gutted that it didn’t work out, but at least… at least now you know how it feels. For yourself, because knowing what being in love feels like, that’s important. Because you now also know what those other blokes felt when you broke it off with them, when you treated your relationships like they weren’t a big deal. I’m not saying they were always in the right, or that you didn’t have a right to break up with them, but you… you have to admit, it’s just like you said. You’ve given the breakup speech before. You’ve turned men away because they were getting too attached. And now that you’ve had a taste of what the other side feels like, I… I have to believe it’s good. I really do.” He sighed, putting his hand on Harry’s lightly. “I’m not saying it to be cruel or to make you feel bad, I swear. I’m saying it because I hope that you’ll… take what you’ve learned, and think about what it is that you really want. I really think that’s the best thing to do in this situation. Give thought, real, genuine thought, to what it is you want.”
“That’s just it, though,” Harry interrupted. “I know what I want. Like I said, I want him. I want Draco. But that’s clearly not an option right now.”
“And what are you going to do about that?” David pressed. “Where do you go from here?”
“I don’t know!” Harry said, perhaps a bit too loudly, since a few other patrons in the café turned towards their table. “I don’t know,” he said again, much more quietly, leaning over the table. “I’m thinking about it, all right? But it’s like you said. I’m… I’m gutted. I’m just trying to sort myself out right now.”
He expected David to argue, to insist that he run right over to Draco’s and tell him everything. But he didn’t. He sat back in his chair with a sigh, and said, “All right. I understand. I know it’s more complicated than it looks from the outside. Draco told us a bit about his ex-wife, the divorce…”
“Yeah, he mentioned that, after the party,” Harry said, calming down.
“And he did say himself it was a fling, didn’t he?” Paul said, more to David than to Harry.
“He said that,” David agreed. “But…” He shook his head. “I’m telling you. I’m just telling you… there’s almost always more to what people say than just… what they say.”
“That may be true,” said Harry. “But I care about him. And I think I owe it to him to trust him at his word, whatever he says. I have to respect what he says he wants, rather than try to force him to want something… to admit… I don’t know. I just don’t want to pressure him. It’s more complicated, like you said. It’s not just about his divorce and what his ex-wife did. It’s also his parents, who are very… traditional. It’s about his fear of coming out, even to his closest friends. I mean, all last year, we had to keep our sleeping together a secret…”
“He’s not out,” David said, closing his eyes in realization. When he opened them again, he and Paul exchanged another glance. “Ok… ok. Fair enough. That… changes things.”
“I want him,” Harry repeated. “I love him.” That got a wide-eyed look from both of his companions, but he plowed on, realizing the truth even as he said the words. “But he said he needed space. He needed time. And maybe… I think that’s what I have to give him, in the hopes that maybe he’ll end up deciding that he doeswant to be out, that it will be worth it. But until then…”
“You can’t force him,” Paul said. “You’re right about that.” David nodded.
They were silent for a few moments, until Harry started chuckling. “I can’t believe we’ve spent this entire time talking about me,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I spent this long talking about myself.”
Probably not since I was seeing a Mind Healer.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” said David.
“You always turn the conversation back around to other people,” Paul added. “You do realize that about yourself, right?”
“Yeah. It’s been pointed out to me before, actually,” Harry said drily. “I’m… working on it.”
They both nodded.
“Well, thanks, Harry,” David said. “For trying, with us. We’re glad.”
“Yeah. We really are, mate,” said Paul.
“Yeah, sure,” Harry replied, flushing. “But... honestly, don’t you think that’s enough heavy for now? I’m a bit sick of thinking about my problems right now. I really would rather hear how you’re doing.”
“Well…” David said slyly. “In that case, Paul here is considering trying long distance with Colin.”
“Really?” Harry said, genuinely surprised. He thought that was a done thing. “When did that happen?”
“Considering it,” Paul hedged. “There has been… we’re talking, that’s all. Colin isn’t sure he wants to stay in Edinburgh long term, and… he, you know…”
“He misses you,” said David with a grin. “Can’t fathom why.”
Paul gave him a playful shove with his elbow. “Yeah, well, David here is about to move in with Jack,” he told Harry. “And they’re both being right divas about it.”
Harry laughed, and David was swift to defend himself.
“Ok, no, listen. Have you seen the bedspread he keeps on that old futon of his? It’s absolutely hideous, and he’s insisting that we put it on our new bed, just because it’s so soft. But, you know… it’s basically neon orange and so against the color scheme, it’s not even funny.”
Harry and Paul were laughing at him with abandon, and David scowled.
“Shut up. My stupid boyfriend has no taste at all. I really think if I have to use that bedspread, it will kill me.”
Harry returned home feeling much lighter than he had when he’d left. It was nice, he realized, to share himself with people who had no preconceptions about him based on his history. It was nice to know that Paul and David didn’t just like having him around because he was fun and fit. It was nice to know that they wanted more from their friendship.
And it was good to have clarity about Draco. He had been sitting on these questions for weeks, going back and forth and when and how he should reveal if his feelings, if he should even reveal them.
And now he understood something he hadn’t been willing to acknowledge before: how Draco was still coming to terms with his sexuality, and how hard that must be. A person needed time to reckon with that, to see what it meant to them. Harry’d had years to do that. Draco deserved that too.
When we return to Hogwarts, things may have changed. Draco had asked for the summer, and it seemed a good amount of time. He was probably sleeping with other people – maybe men, maybe women, maybe both – and Harry would have to learn how to be all right with that. He was hardly one to judge, after all.
But, as David pointed out, Harry had seen the other side of it now, and he knew what it was to care deeply for a lover, to want to commit. Maybe Draco, once he had explored, would also get clarity about what he wanted as well. Maybe, once they were back at Hogwarts, he would be more receptive to the possibility of a relationship. They could talk about it.
Until then, though, he would leave it. He would focus on other things.
He went into his bedroom, where the black velvet box was sitting on top of his wardrobe, where he had left it the last time he had decided to take the cufflinks out and look at them.
He didn’t feel a need to look at them again. He merely put them in the drawer, promising himself – and, in turn, Draco – for the time they both needed.
He could be patient. He could wait.
***
“Interested in helping again today, Mr. Potter?” Gallagher, Harry’s architect and magical renovator asked him. He had paused, spotting Harry lingering on the landing of the third floor, which had now been entirely cleared. All around the empty expanse, Gallagher’s employees were working away, mostly casting charms or putting together training equipment, now that the floors were installed and the walls painted.
“Yeah, actually,” Harry answered, rubbing the back of his neck. He needed a distraction, something physical he could do to take his mind off things. “If you think you can use me.”
“Of course. What strikes your fancy?”
“You wouldn’t happen to have any more walls I could smash, would you?” Harry asked drily. “It’s been that kind of day, I’m afraid.”
Gallagher chuckled. “’Fraid not, Mr. Potter. We’ve finished with the demolition by now, as you can see.” He gestured around in demonstration. Of course, Harry figured that would be the case. But it never hurt to ask.
“I’ll help wherever I can, then.”
He ended up teaming up with two of the other renovators putting together one of the advanced practice dummies. It wasn’t the very active, physical work he was craving, but it was intricate, with many small parts and complex mechanisms, and required concentration. Harry decided he would take what he could get.
Anything to take his mind off Draco and what had happened in that wine shop. He had been wallowing for a few days now, and he was sick of it.
He hadn’t meant to lose his temper like that. He had meant… well, in truth, he hadn’t been entirely sure what he was going to say until he was about to say it. All he knew was that he had seen Draco with that other bloke – kissing that other bloke, in public no less – and the only thing he could think about was the fact that Draco was obviously interested in being more serious with men than he had previously let on, at least to the point where he was willing to be seen with them in the wizarding world.
And in that moment, two things had passed through his mind simultaneously.
The first was what Paul and David had talked to him about, the way that Harry had been hard to get to know, had kept his distance from his lovers from so long that it was practically second nature. Harry had thought it over quite a bit since then, and had realized that he might very well be responsible, or at least partially so, for the fact that Draco didn’t choose to pursue a relationship with him.
Draco didn’t know Harry was open to that kind of relationship, because Harry had never said he was. Neither of them had ever said.
And now, well, it seemed as if there was a chance.
On the other hand, Harry had also been, at the very same time, faced with the reality that Draco was with someone else. The only thing Harry could hope was that it wasn’t all that serious with the tall brunet – preferably not exclusive – and that Draco would welcome the possibility of ending things with him in favor of Harry and rekindling what they had together.
He had been wrong on both counts.
It’s new, Draco had said when Harry asked how serious it was. But Harry also couldn’t help the sting he felt when Draco added (a bit pointedly) that it was also monogamous.
I wanted to be monogamous with him, Harry thought bitterly as he lay on the floor, performing a tightening charm on one of the lug nuts in the interior of the dummy. I told him I wasn’t seeing other people.
Apparently, though, Draco hadn’t understood the significance of that. He hadn’t realized what that choice meant, what a big step it was for Harry. This entire time, he’d thought that Harry just wanted something casual. If only Harry had said something sooner, had told Draco how hard and fast he was falling. That night after David’s party would have been the perfect time. They were so… connected, so close. He could have said it all, everything.
Or he could have stopped him the morning Draco ended it, seen through the pretense, had the courage to own up to his feelings, even if it meant rejection.
He could have told Draco why he was so upset after their breakup, before he ever left Hogwarts. He could have sent Draco those damn cufflinks back in June.
So many chances, and he missed all of them. And now it was likely too late. He hadn’t heard a word from Draco, and he was hardly surprised. The blond seemed quite happy with the cute brunet – American, from the sound of it. He clearly liked this Kyle person, and why shouldn’t he? What, really, did Harry have to offer, other than his love, something Draco could clearly get elsewhere?
Harry crawled out from under the dummy, pulling out his wand again. He was about to perform a quick cleaning charm on himself when he was interrupted.
“Harry? I mean, um… Mr. Potter?” came a voice from behind him. Harry turned to see one of the renovators, a dark, muscular wizard named Adam, the same one who had been giving Harry suggestive looks every time he was doing work at Grimmauld. He’d even found the man hanging out after work was done a couple of times, lingering longer than the others as if hoping to be invited to stay. Adam was making it perfectly clear, from Harry’s perspective, that Harry was welcome to bed him any time he desired.
In a Draco free world, he might have had some interest in that. But as it was…
“What is it?” Harry asked him, pocketing his wand. He was hardly in the mood to flirt at the moment.
“I think there’s someone at your door,” the wizard said. “I heard the bell.”
“Oh,” said Harry, brow furrowing. “Are we expecting more workers today?” They usually took the floo, but some came in through the front, if they were carrying equipment with them.
Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. I can ask the boss if you’d like.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll just check. Thanks.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Potter,” Adam said with a flirty smile. “Happy to help.”
Harry barely avoided rolling his eyes as he made his way down the stairs towards the front door. He hoped it was just an extra worker or two, and not some unwelcome visitor who had found a way through the wards. Unfortunately, that had happened before too, especially during times when he hadn’t been vigilant in maintaining the spells.
He opened the door quickly, ready to either welcome someone in or tell them off. But what he found there was so unexpected that he did neither, but rather just stood there and stared.
“Draco,” he breathed.
It was indeed his former lover, the one he had just been moping about, standing on his front stoop looking impeccable and lovely as always. He held a box on his hands, a large white one almost as broad as his chest.
“Hi, Harry,” Draco said simply. Harry couldn’t be sure if he was imagining it, but Draco’s voice sounded a bit breathy too, a bit nervous.
Harry had no idea what the man had to be nervous about. He looked so good standing there, a guileless, open expression that was aimed right at Harry. He wore perfectly tailored trousers that showed off his long, lean legs and a crisp, mint green shirt that hugged his shoulders attractively.
The brunet realized, with some horror, that he likely looked just the opposite of Draco at the moment. He hadn’t showered, and he’d just spent a good half hour lying on a floor that was still dirty with dust and bits of plaster. “Sorry, I was…” He began, looking down at himself to find he was right. He tried to rid his shirt of some of the dust. “The renovators are here, for the third floor,” he explained. “I’m helping them.”
“Oh, that’s… good,” Draco replied, after a moment. “Things are coming along nicely then?”
“What?” Harry said, distracted by his own disheveled appearance and a sudden panic that he might not smell all that good either. It took a second for him to realize that Draco was trying to make conversation. “Yeah. Oh, yeah, definitely. It’s just… that’s why I look like this, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting… you know, company.”
Merlin, of all the days for Draco to pop in for an unannounced visit. Harry straightened himself out the best he could, wishing he could find some way to cast a discreet freshening charm or something.
He half expected Draco to laugh – Harry was aware he was being a bit awkward – but the blond did nothing of the sort. He merely smiled softly at Harry and held the white box out to him.
“I didn’t mean to keep you from your work,” he said. “I just wanted to bring you a gift.”
The box was for him? “In person?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Harry didn’t know what to say. He supposed this was some kind of early birthday present that was also meant to serve as a peace offering, after how they’d left things at wine shop. Harry accepted the gift, savoring the small contact with Draco’s skin that he received when he took it. He supposed peace, and perhaps a future friendship, would be the best that he could hope for. “Thank you. But my birthday’s not for another three days.”
He hoped this would prompt Draco into an explanation of why he was bringing it early, which maybe could spark a conversation, a real conversation about how they were going to figure out being friends, after everything. But Draco only stood there, mouth open, looking bewildered for a few seconds, before he recovered himself.
“It’s not a birthday present,” the blond said quickly. “That’s…” He bit his lip. “I have a different present for your birthday.”
“Oh.” Harry’s brow furrowed as he stared at the box. A different present? “Then what is this present for?” He was thoroughly confused.
That question seemed to rattle Draco, because he stumbled over his words a bit. “Ummm… It’s just… It’s just, you know, a small token. Of my…”He let out the smallest of coughs, almost as if he was readying himself, and met Harry’s eyes. “Of my love. For you.”
There was a buzzing noise in Harry’s ears at those words, and he almost thought, perhaps, that he had imagined them. Because this couldn’t possibly be happening, could it? “Love?”
“Yes,” Draco’s voice perfectly clear now.
Harry’s heart kicked into overdrive. “You love me?”
“Very much so. I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.”
Draco’s answers just kept getting better and better. “Would you like to come inside?” Harry asked him. Grimmauld’s front stoop hardly seemed like the place for them to have this heart to heart. Harry had so much to say, and so much he wanted to know.
“I…” Draco’s hesitation caught Harry off guard, and he waited for the man’s answer. “Not today. Not yet.”
“Oh.” Harry wasn’t sure what to think. Was Draco trying to say he wasn’t ready? Maybe even though he knew he loved Harry, he still needed time before he could pursue a relationship.
Which would be a shame. Harry couldn’t help but feel that they had wasted time already, by not being honest, by being apart. What was keeping them from starting now, starting for real?
“I came to bring you a gift,” Draco said, his voice suddenly urgent, “and to ask you something, to ask you to – to have dinner with me.”
"Dinner?" This conversation was started to give Harry emotional whiplash.
"Yes."
“When?” Now? Next week? Next year?
“Tomorrow night. I have reservations somewhere special for 7:30.”
Harry’s face broke into a smile, both because the following night wasn’t so long to have to wait, but also because Draco was clearly assured of Harry’s acceptance. Which meant he had believed the things Harry said in the wine shop, the feelings he had been trying to convey. “You were confident I would say yes, then.” He found the assumption didn’t bother him at all.
“I hoped, at least,” Draco said, his expression softening in a way that got Harry’s heart rate going again. “And I wanted to make sure I could get the reservations I wanted.”
So, someplace fancy, then. “Where?”
“Now, that’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“Why?”
“Why is it a surprise or why am I asking you to dinner?” Draco looked a bit amused now, and Harry couldn’t help but mirror the feeling. He laughed, mostly at himself, and also at how surreal and extraordinary this conversation was.
“I honestly don’t know. I‘m sort of in shock right now.”
Draco laughed as well, as if in agreement. He sobered though, that soft smile still lingering on his lips. “It’s a surprise because I want it to be special,” looking at Harry meaningfully. “And I want it to be special because I love you.”
Sweet Circe. Harry knew how he had longed to hear those words come out of Draco’s mouth, how much Harry had longed himself to say them. But that longing was nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the feeling of actually hearing them. He swallowed thickly, unable to speak.
“As for why I want to take you to dinner in the first place,” Draco went on, “it’s because I want us to start over, begin at the beginning, a proper relationship.” He closed the small distance even more, the white box between them the only reason they weren’t touching. He searched Harry’s face as he spoke, his eyes lingering at Harry’s mouth. “I want to be with you and only you, and I want to know if you want that as well.”
“I do,” Harry said immediately. Gods, I do. So much. “I thought I made that clear. I mean, I was trying to make that clear. I didn’t exactly get to say everything I intended to say.” That was an understatement.
“That’s all right.” Draco reassured him, placing his hands very lightly over Harry’s. “You can say everything you want to say to me tomorrow night.” He paused, one eyebrow raising in a question. “If you'll agree to have dinner with me, that is.”
“I really have to wait until tomorrow?” Draco clearly wanted this to unfold a certain way, and Harry trusted him. At the same time, though, Draco had gotten to say those words, and Harry wanted to find a way to say them too.
Draco laughed again, seeming utterly charmed, and for a moment Harry thought, the way Draco was looking at him, that the blond was going to kiss him. Out of habit, perhaps, or simply feeling. And Merlin, did he want that to happen. But Draco recovered himself, pulling away a couple of inches. “One step at a time, right?” he said.
Go slow, don’t rush, seemed to be what Draco was trying to say. He wanted to start over from the beginning, do it properly. “Right. I suppose that...” Harry could do that. That would be no hardship at all. “Yes. Tomorrow night, then.”
“Tomorrow night,” Draco repeated with a smile. “I’ll come here and pick you up.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Harry promised.
“Good.”
Draco lingered a moment more, as if debating something. But then, seeming to resolve himself, he gave Harry a nod goodbye and turned, making his way down the walk again. Harry watched him go, pleased when Draco turned back to give him one last, joyous smile. He then walked through the wards, and Harry knew that Draco could no longer see him.
He could still see Draco, though, and he couldn’t help but feel that the man striding with more purpose, with more happiness, than he had been before.
Feeling dazed, Harry went back inside, the box from Draco still clutched in his arms.
A token of his love. Now that he didn’t have Draco’s presence to distract him, he found himself burning with curiosity as to what Draco had brought him.
He opened the box at the kitchen table, untying the big red bow and lifting the lid. The most delicious smell wafted towards him: sugar, butter, vanilla…
Pastries. Harry grinned as he took in the nicely displayed cornucopia of baked goods. There were croissants, biscuits, scones – and, from the looks of them, all of his favorite flavors of each – as well as the centerpiece, a large and beautifully baked treacle tart. Of course.
Draco had selected well. I know you, he seemed to be saying, and Harry was more than happy to receive the sentiment. He wanted to try one, maybe a pastry, but there was the sound of someone on the stairs, and he decided to put the box away for now. He would take out a selection to share with the workers later, once he determined what he wanted to keep for himself (the treacle tart, was, of course, a no-brainer). He put the box lovingly in his pantry, then turned to see that Adam had appeared in the kitchen.
“Everything all right, Mr. Potter?” he asked.
“Sure, yes,” said Harry. “Everything’s fine. How’s it going upstairs?”
“Great. I just… well, you had been down here a while, and I thought I would check.” He was making doe-eyes at Harry, and very obviously so, but Harry chose to ignore them.
“Well, like I said, all good here. Just a friend stopping by. Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, good.” Adam lingered a moment, eyes tracing over Harry. “Are you going to come back and join us, or…”
“Actually, I’m afraid some other things have come up,” Harry said, and this was true. He was already starting to make plans, consider all of the things he wanted to do before his date with Draco the next evening.
His date with Draco. Merlin.
Namely he needed to make sure his best suit was clean and presentable. And maybe he should get a haircut; he was starting to get a bit shaggy. And he definitely needed a shave.
He also wanted to talk to Hermione and Ron, and tell them everything.
And the cufflinks. I’ve got to figure out when I’m going to give Draco the cufflinks. He smiled to himself, feeling suddenly overcome.
“I have quite a bit to do,” he said aloud. “Starting with a shower. But do tell Gallagher I appreciate his work. You all are doing an excellent job.”
“Oh, thank you,” Adam said, looking slightly caught off guard. “I hope you um…” He licked his lips. “…enjoy your shower.”
Harry snorted, pinning Adam with a knowing look. “I’m sure I will. Good luck with the renovations.”
He breezed past the other wizard, trying to make his dismissiveness clear. He hadn’t been in the mood to flirt before, and now he really wanted to make it obvious to the young man that it was never going to happen.
“Thanks,” Adam said softly, and Harry caught the disappointment in his tone.
Harry couldn’t feel bad, though. There was too much joy filling him for that.
***
“What’s that?”
Harry looked up from the carrot he was slicing into sticks to see what his godson was pointing at. There, resting on the counter near the picnic basket, were Draco’s cufflinks, now disguised beneath red and blue birthday wrapping paper.
“It’s a present,” Harry said simply, returning to his chopping.
“I know that,” Teddy said, and Harry could tell without looking that the boy was rolling his eyes. He smiled to himself. “Is it for your birthday? Are you going to open it?”
“It’s not for me. It’s for Draco, from me.”
“Why?”
“Because his birthday was in June and I missed it, so I’m giving him his present today.”
“Oh.” They were silent for a minute while Harry packed up the all the veg he had just finished slicing. “Is Draco going to give you a present?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“But it’s your birthday. Isn’t he supposed to?”
Harry chuckled at the boy’s indignation. “We’ll see.” He honestly didn’t know what to expect from this morning with Draco. The past few days had been – what with their very successful date, Draco’s letter to his mother, and many shared words of love and devotion – so unexpected, in the best possible way. Harry was rather happy to remain open and see what would happen next.
“You like him, right?” Teddy asked.
“Yes, of course. You’ll like him too, I wager.”
“No. I mean you like-like him.”
Harry suppressed a snort. Trust an eight-year-old to put it in those terms. Like Harry and Draco were two youths with crushes, pulling each other’s pigtails on the playground. Then again, in a sense they had been pulling each other’s figurative pigtails all through Hogwarts, so maybe the expression wasn’t so off the mark.
“Yes,” he said. “I like-like him.” I love him, he added silently to himself, just because he couldn’t get enough of the sound of those words.
“Does that mean he’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Harry said, unable to contain his grin any longer. “I suppose it does.” He glanced at Teddy, who was grinning too.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend before?” Teddy asked.
That might seem a strange question, but, given the circumstances, it wasn’t really. Harry had never felt comfortable introducing a man he was dating to his godson. Ron and Hermione, occasionally, yes. But never Teddy. So Teddy would have no way of knowing who Harry had dated or how many of them there actually were.
“I’ve liked other men before,” he answered, starting to fill the picnic basket with all of the food he had made. “I’ve been on dates. But I’ve never liked anyone as much as Draco.”
“Is he going to come live here?”
Harry paused. He certainly hadn’t expected that question. “I… don’t know. We haven’t talked about it. It’s… a little early for that. If we do decide to live together, it won’t be for a little while, probably.”
“Oh.”
“But he is going to be around a lot,” Harry said, wondering if that was why Teddy was asking. “I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him from now on.”
Teddy only nodded, looking thoughtful.
“How do you feel about that?” Harry asked him. This was all new territory, and though Teddy was a social kid and very adaptable, Harry did wonder how he was going to handle this change.
Teddy shrugged. “Good,” he said. He frowned in thought. “As long as he’s nice to you.”
Harry couldn’t help a pleased chuckle at that. “He’s very kind to me, don’t worry.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “But I appreciate you looking out for me.”
Teddy looked up at him, grinning again.
Harry glanced at the clock. “It’s nearly time to get ready. Do you want to wear your jersey to the park, or are you going to wait until we’re leaving for the match?”
“I’ll wait for the match,” Teddy answered immediately. “I don’t want to get it dirty.”
Harry smiled, unsurprised. That Holyhead Harpies jersey was signed by Ginny Weasley herself and was among Teddy’s most precious possession, second only perhaps to the Snitch Malcolm Sellers had caught for Teddy last year on his birthday.
“All right. Looks like all you need are some shoes and socks, then,” he said, glancing at Teddy’s feet.
Teddy pouted. “I can’t find my trainers.”
“The blue ones?”
“Yeah.”
“You were wearing them yesterday, when you got here.” Teddy had arrived in time for dinner, and to spend the night, and the two hadn’t been out of the house since.
“I know.”
“So they’re somewhere in the house. Have you checked behind the sofa in the sitting room? Or maybe under your bed. Those are the places you like to toss your shoes and forget about them, aren’t they?” He gave Teddy a knowing and amused look.
“But I put them away. I swear I did.”
“If you say so.”
“But I can’t find them,” he whinged. “Can’t you just Accio them like you did last time?”
“No,” Harry said. “Because the more I summon things for you that you’ve lost, the less likely you are to learn to keep track of them yourself.” He thought this was a very reasonable point, but Teddy merely groaned in annoyance. “Your Gran packed you those white ones as well. If you can’t find the blue ones, just wear those.”
“But I don’t want to wear those,” Teddy said.
“Well, then I suppose you ought to go looking for the blue ones, don’t you think?”
Teddy made a face at him, but Harry just met him with his best no-nonsense look until Teddy relented. Teddy knew that whinging and demanding things would never be tolerated under Harry’s roof, nor under his Gran’s, for that matter, so it didn’t take him long to do as he was told.
When Teddy left for his search, Harry looked at the clock again and saw that they were cutting it pretty close. Draco was due to arrive soon and he still needed to finish cleaning the kitchen.
He worked quickly, using magic to help him along the way and snickering to himself about how Teddy would be complaining about the injustice of that if he were there. He thought it very unfair that adults got to use magic to help them with their chores while children were stuck doing all of theirs by hand.
When the kitchen was clean it was only a few minutes until eleven, and Harry was wondering what was taking so long.
“Teddy!” he called up from the bottom of the stairs. “Any luck?”
“Not yet!” came the reply from the general direction of Teddy’s room.
Sighing, Harry answered, “Did you look behind the sofa like I suggested?”
“Yes!” Teddy yelled back. “I checked the whole sitting room, I swear!”
“Well, they’re probably under the bed, then!” He thought about going and having a look in the sitting room, just to be sure. “Hurry up! Draco will be here any minute!”
“Draco’s already here, actually,” came a voice from down the hall.
Harry’s insides gave a pleasant lurch as he turned towards the source. Draco was standing by the door to the parlor, looking edible in jeans and a blue linen shirt that set off the natural pearlescence of his skin. “Yes, he is,” Harry said, smiling and making his way over. He hesitated a moment, wondering if they were yet at the stage where kissing in greeting was acceptable. The way Draco nodded, his eyes flitting briefly to Harry’s lips, gave Harry his answer.
Draco’s lips were soft, and Harry let his own lips linger on them. “Hello,” he said after he pulled away.
“Hi. Happy birthday,” Draco replied, grinning and kissing him simultaneously.
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
“Teddy’s nearly ready,” Harry explained. “He’s misplaced his favorite trainers, apparently, and he’s looking for them.”
“Ah,” said Draco. “Do we need to help him?”
Harry shook his head. “I’m sure he’ll manage.” He did think it was a good idea for Teddy to learn responsibility for his own things. But mostly, now that Draco was here, he just wanted to take advantage of their brief alone time. “It’s so good to see you,” he said, putting his arms around the blond. “I feel spoiled getting to see you four days in a row. After… going so long without you.”
Draco’s eyes grew tender as they gazed at him. “You’ll have to get used to it, I suppose.”
Harry liked the sound of that. “Planning to stick around for a while then, are you?”
“Hmmm… I’m considering it, at least,” Draco teased, and Harry decided to shut him up with his lips. Draco responded beautifully, pulling Harry flush against him and deepening the kiss.
Merlin. I will never get enough of this.
“I found them!” called Teddy from the stairs, making the two men separate far too early for Harry’s liking. Still, though Teddy knew there were romantic feelings between them, Harry wasn’t sure how Teddy would react to catching them snogging. It was probably best for Teddy to get used to the idea of them together first.
Teddy had reached the bottom of the stairs and was looking between the two men and smiling.
“Under your bed?” Harry asked pointedly, indicating the trainers Teddy was holding with a nod of his head.
“Yeah,” Teddy admitted.
“Didn’t I tell you?”
Teddy seemed unbothered by Harry’s smugness, merely continuing to grin. “Yes.”
Feeling a surge of affection overtake him, Harry ruffled his godson’s hair playfully. He’d always appreciated Teddy’s naturally cheerful disposition. “Teddy,” he said, turning his attention back to their guest. “This is my friend, your cousin, Draco Malfoy.”
“Hi, Teddy,” Draco greeted the boy. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”
They shook hands, almost like two adults, which had Harry fighting a smile. But then Teddy said, “Hi. Do you like Quidditch?”
Cutting to the chase as usual, Harry thought.
“I love Quidditch,” said Draco. “I played Seeker in school, for my house team.”
Teddy turned to look at his godfather, his surprise evident. “Against Harry?”
“Many times,” Draco answered with a dry chuckle. “He always beat me, though.” He gave Harry a brief but affectionate glance.
“Well, he is the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever had,” Teddy said, as though this were fact. “Uncle Ron told me so.”
“Well, if Uncle Ron said it, it must be true.” Draco glanced at Harry again, this time with a little sparkle in his eye that held just the smallest hint of irony. Harry rolled his eyes before addressing Teddy again.
“Come on, then. Get your trainers on. Plenty of time to talk Quidditch on our way to the park.”
Teddy agreed, sitting down on the stairs. Harry went to retrieve the picnic basket from the kitchen, ears straining in the hopes of overhearing their continued conversation as he made his way down the hall.
From what he could catch, it was more Quidditch talk. No surprise. Of course, once Teddy heard that Draco was a supporter of the Falcons, he would do everything in his little eight-year-old power to convince the blond that the Harpies were superior. He was even more adamant about that than Harry.
He grabbed the basket off the counter and made his way back towards the front hall.
“Did Ginny Weasley tell you that?” he heard Draco say as he approached.
“Yeah. So?” Teddy replied.
“So… she might be a little upset that she didn’t make the international team this year. That’s all I’m saying.”
Harry grinned. Ginny had been quite put out by that, in fact.
“She was on the short list too. But they went with Connery,” Teddy explained.
“That’s what I heard. I don’t really understand it. He never seemed like that great a flyer to me.”
“I know, right?”
“All right, you two, let’s get going,” Harry said. He found himself anxious to get to the park, thinking of the wrapped gift that was waiting for Draco in the basket.
Even with Harry’s nagging and nudging, it still felt like it took forever to get them out of the house. Teddy was too busy describing the brilliant plays he’d seen Ginny execute at the various Harpies matches he’s been to.
Finally, though, they were out on the front walk and making their way down the street.
“Sounds like you see a lot of Quidditch matches,” Draco said when Teddy finally paused for breath.
“Yeah, loads! I would watch all of them if I could.”
Draco chuckled, catching Harry’s eye. “I bet.”
“We’re going to see a Holyhead Harpies match today for Harry’s birthday, you know.”
“I heard.”
“They’re playing the Wasps. The Harpies are going to crush them. I can’t wait.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the slightly ferocious glee in Teddy’s voice. “We’ll see.” The Wasps were actually quite good this season, and he didn’t want Teddy getting his hopes up too much.
“The Harpies are the best,” said Teddy, looking at Harry like he was mental. “You say so all the time.”
Harry considered that. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“We know Ginny Weasley, you know,” Teddy said to Draco, jumping forward a few conversation topics as usual. “We have Christmas with her every year. And sometimes I see her other times, when she’s not traveling.”
“I did know that, actually,” Draco replied.
Harry smiled to himself as Teddy chatted away, talking about his birthday Snitch. He discretely watched Draco as he listened along, occasionally answering the boy with a patience and kindness that made Harry’s insides feel warm and strange.
Teddy had changed conversational directions once again, now asking if Draco knew Teddy’s grandmother, Andromeda.
“Not as well as I’d like,” Draco said. “I saw her more when I was small. Smaller than you. But I’d love to see her again.”
“Oh. Well I’m sure that will happen. Harry says that you are going to be around a lot, so you’ll probably see her a lot too, don’t worry.”
Harry felt his cheeks go red. Of course, Teddy was already blabbing about the conversation they’d had earlier. It was probably only a matter of time before there was some mention of how Harry “like-liked” Draco and how they were going to talk about moving in together. He was going to have to be careful about what sort of things he said about Draco to Teddy from now on, so his godson didn’t go around spilling all his secrets.
It didn’t help that Draco was giving him a distinctly heated look as he answered, “Well, Harry’s right about that.” Harry had to work to swallow the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.
He was thankful when they finally arrived at the park and Teddy immediately asked if he could go play. He agreed, glad to get enough alone time with Draco that he could give him the very personal birthday present that was waiting impatiently in the picnic basket.
He laid out the blanket on the grass and he and Draco sat, discussing Teddy and what a wonderful kid he was.
“It’s obvious you’re doing a great job with him,” Draco said.
Harry felt a small pang of guilt in his chest. “I can’t take a lot of the credit,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s mostly Andromeda. Being at Hogwarts makes it hard to be there for him most of the time.”
“He seems very comfortable with you, though,” Draco pointed out, and Harry felt himself smile. “It’s obvious that he likes spending time with you.”
“I try to make up for it in the summer,” said Harry. “I see him a few times a week.”
“That’s great.”
“I’m really looking forward to three years from now, when he comes to Hogwarts. Then I can see him all the time. Keep an eye on him, like I promised his mum and dad.” It had been something he thought about often since he’d started teaching at Hogwarts six years ago. He hadn’t taken into account how long it was going to be until Teddy joined him at school. Now they were three mere years away from that, and it still felt like such a long time.
“That will be nice,” Draco said softly, taking Harry’s hand.
Harry took a few minutes to just enjoy the feel of Draco’s bare skin against his own, though his heart was suddenly hammering in his chest. It was the perfect time, just the right moment, to give Draco this gift that he had been waiting so long to give him. But he was terribly, painfully nervous about it all the same.
“I got you something,” he blurted, before he could take too much time and overthink it.
He felt Draco’s surprise in the sudden stillness of his body before he heard it in his voice. “What?” Draco asked.
Hands shaking a little, Harry went to the basket and took out the wrapped gift. He presented it to Draco, who accepted it hesitantly, looking thoroughly confused.
“Harry,” he said. “It’s your birthday.”
This surprised a laugh out of Harry, and he was glad for it. It made him feel a little calmer. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Is this a thing, you giving people gifts on your birthday instead of the other way around?”
“Not usually. I like getting presents. But I missed your birthday, you know. So I’m making up for it now.”
Draco watched him for what felt like a long time, though it was probably only a few seconds.
Open it. Please just open it, Harry compelled him with his eyes. He had already waited so long for this. Draco seemed to understand, his eyes dropping to the present as he began to unwrap it with careful fingers. When he opened the velvet box itself, he stared at its contents with assessing, curious eyes, as if taking it all in. One finger reached out, touching the dragon cufflink, almost reverently.
“You and me,” Draco said.
Harry felt a surge of pleasure and relief at that simple statement. He gets it. He understands what it means.
“I realized when I ordered them that I didn’t know your Patronus,” he explained. “But then I realized I could just use the creatures from the paper figures I made, and that would work just as well, to represent us. Do you like them?”
“They’re lovely.”
“I know you don’t have much reason to wear them at Hogwarts,” Harry said, still a bit nervous. “But, I figured, they go nicely with pretty much any dress robes, and Muggle shirts as well, when you want to wear a suit.”
“I love them, Harry,” Draco replied, looking up at him. “They’re perfect.”
His gaze was earnest, and Harry had no cause to disbelieve him. “Ok… well… good.”
Draco looked back down at the cufflinks again, seeming lost in thought. “But how did you find…” he began after a moment. “…or did you custom order them? How did they fill the order so fast?”
Harry realized he probably should have seen that question coming. He felt himself flush once again. It was probably just better to admit it all now. “I’ve… had them for a while, actually. I ordered them back in March.”
“In March.”
“When I left Hogwarts for Hermione’s baby shower, you remember?” Draco nodded, and Harry went on. “Well, I also popped into my favorite jewelers in Diagon to have these made. I was going to give them to you on your actual birthday, but…”
“But I ended it,” Draco finished for him, his tone suddenly guilty.
“Yes,” Harry said, because it was true. “And then I didn’t know what to do. I thought about giving them to you anyway. I wrestled back and forth about it for months. I thought you ought to have them, at least to remember – to remember us. But I didn’t know if you wanted to. I didn’t know if it meant the same to you as it did to me. And the bravest part of me wanted to send them to you to show you… to finally tell you how I felt. I composed a letter in my head and everything, waxing poetic about how you and I…” He laughed a little, thinking back to that moment. “About how you and I belonged together.”
He heard Draco exhale a shaky breath, and when he looked at Harry once more, Harry could see in his gray eyes just how moved he was by what Harry was telling him. He seemed unable to speak, so Harry continued.
“But, in the end, I decided not to. I decided to wait, to see what would happen when we returned to Hogwarts. And I suppose a part of me was afraid you would just think it was stupid or something.”
“Never,” Draco said, quickly but softly. “I never would have thought it was stupid.” He looked back down at his gift, as if with new appreciation. “Thank you, Harry. I love them. They’re perfect.” A hand found Harry’s shirt as Draco pulled him gently into a kiss. Harry couldn’t contain his grin as he felt with certainty all of the emotion that Draco was putting into that kiss, as he thought about how this was right, how it had all worked out somehow, even if it wasn’t in the way Harry had expected it to. Harry let himself sneak in a few more kisses, after checking that Teddy wasn’t watching them, and both men were smiling widely when they finally pulled away.
“I have a gift for you too,” Draco said, after they had taken a few seconds to enjoy the moment. “Because, you know, it’s actually your birthday.”
“Oh, is that so?” said Harry, his joy bubbling over.
“Yes. And I was excited about giving it to you, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t pull out any more unexpected gifts, trying to one-up me.”
Harry laughed at the look of mock annoyance on Draco’s face. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“All right,” Draco said with a sigh. He took something out of his pocket, his head swiveling about surreptitiously to check if they had an audience. After he had cast some privacy charms, he enlarged the silver package until it fit perfectly in his hand. He held it out to Harry.
More than a little curious, Harry unwrapped the paper. It came away easily, and underneath was a wooden box with a hinged lid. The dark wood was soft against Harry’s fingers in a way he found pleasant, and the sides were exquisitely carved.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, wondering what it was for.
“That’s not really the present,” Draco clarified. “Open it.”
Harry did, lifting the top of the box on its hinge. Inside was a glass ball, just the right size to be cupped by his palm. He took it out, immediately thinking of Neville Longbotton and that infamous flying lesson.
“Is this a Remembrall? Like what Neville had our first year at Hogwarts?” He remembered that day clearly, and thought perhaps Draco did too. Perhaps this was some reference to that day, to their old rivalry… something new Draco wanted him to understand about it.
But Draco laughed and said, “No. Although it’s made by the same company. But this is much better than that. Give it a light squeeze.”
Now undeniably curious, Harry put his fingers around the ball, gripping it tightly for a moment. Smoke appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, but this smoke was multicolored: a deep, royal purple with threads of bright yellow and dark orange swirling through, making spirals with each other.
“Interesting design,” Harry said, still staring at it. “What does it mean?”
“It’s how I’m feeling right now,” Draco said matter-of-factly. Harry’s neck popped as he turned to look at the blond, his stomach doing a strange flip. “It’s… linked to me. To my emotions. When you hold it in your hand firmly like that, it will fill with smoke, and it will change color according to what I'm feeling at the moment.”
Harry looked back at the object in disbelief. “It’s sort of like those mood rings I’ve seen Muggle teenagers wear. Except this is actually… I suppose it really works.” Draco was right. This was a lot better than a Remembrall.
“It should,” said Draco. “And it should only work for you. It knows your magical signature now. It won’t work for anyone but you or me.”
“How will I know what the colors mean?”
“There’s a small roll of parchment inside the box. It lists all the colors and the emotions they represent. I think it’s also the sort of thing you learn over time, the more you spend with it.”
The more time you spend with it. Harry suddenly felt a bit overwhelmed by the immensity of the thing he held in his hand. “Do you know what these colors mean?” he choked out, looking at Draco. The blond nodded.
“Do you want to look it up, or do you want me to tell you?”
“I want you to tell me,” Harry urged.
“Well, the yellow is happiness, and that little bit of orange is anxiety, because…” He scratched the back of his neck a moment. “Well I suppose I was nervous about how you’d feel about this present. But purple is the dominant emotion right now. And that’s… love.”
That was almost too much to hear, too much to bear. Love. It was proof, tangible, physical proof, that Draco loved him. Which he supposed was Draco’s point in giving it to him. But it was also so much more than that. It was a glimpse into anything and everything Draco was feeling and would feel in the future. And he was telling Harry that whenever he wanted to look, whenever he wanted to know, he could.
It was too much to hold. His chest felt full and tight all at once; his eyes were stinging, tears already threatening to spill over. He was suddenly very, very thankful for the privacy charms Draco had cast.
“Harry?” Harry felt the weight of Draco’s hand on his knee. “I… is it all right?” the blond asked cautiously. “Did I…? Do you like it?”
Harry looked up at him in disbelief. Did Draco not understand? “Draco. Do you… do you have any idea what this is?” He needed to make sure Draco knew what he was handing over to Harry, the kind of power that this object held. Because Draco looked a bit confused, and now Harry was wondering if the blond hadn’t fully thought through all the implications. “This is your heart, Draco,” he said emphatically, hoping the blond would get it. “You’re letting me see inside your heart.”
But Draco’s expression cleared, and Harry could read no worry there, no regret. “Yes, I know.”
“Only me.”
“Yes,” Draco said, with certainty.
“You’re just… giving it to me.”
“Yes. I’m ready to.”
Harry felt the first tear spill over, and he swiped at it, though he knew there would only be more to come. “Merlin,” he said, unable to find any other words to convey all that he was feeling.
“I trust you, Harry,” Draco went on, his words soft and loving. “And I wanted you to know just how much. I know you’ll keep it safe.”
That really did him in, and he could hold back a small sob. It was everything he had wanted without knowing it. Trust, pure and unrestrained. It was everything he wanted to give Draco in return, without knowing how to. “Fuck. This is so… I don’t even have words for what this means to me.” He paused, trying to get his breathing under control, so that he could say what he needed to say. “I will keep it safe. I promise. I’ll never abuse it.”
“I know,” Draco answered readily, though his voice had gone a bit tremulous as well.
More tears spilled, and Harry cleared them away. “Gods, and you were worried I was one-upping you,” he said, half joking, half earnest. “When all I gave you was a pair of cufflinks and you gave me your heart in a box.”
Draco laughed, seeming to understand. His thumbs wiped gently at Harry’s cheeks, getting the last remnants of his tears. “It wasn’t actually a competition, you know,” he said wryly. “I wasn’t expecting a gift at all.”
“I know that.”
“Besides, I know they’re more than just cufflinks. I know what they mean. I know now how long you… wanted this. Us. They tell me that you really thought about this and that you’ve been ready for a long time.”
“Yes,” Harry breathed in relief. “That’s exactly it.”
Of course Draco would get it. Of course he would. He always seemed to understand the important things.
“And that means a hell of a lot to me, to know that.”
“Good.”
They kissed again, and it was tender and achingly slow, and Harry felt so filled up that he knew he was in real danger of weeping again. Luckily, Draco seemed to understand this, because he didn’t lift the privacy charm right away. Instead, he gave Harry time to come down from this intense high, to finish the cathartic release of all that had been building up since their breakup. Since before their breakup, really. He had been carrying so much for so long, without even realizing it.
He loved those cufflinks, and he was happier than ever that he had ordered them in the first place. Yet they had been weighing on him, all these months, a burden he had been unwilling to put down. The burden of not telling the truth, the burden of holding himself back from what he wanted most.
They were in Draco’s hands now, where they belonged, and Harry was free. He had something even better clutched in his own.
Draco’s heart. His love. And all the promises of the future.
***
The cheers surrounded them as they made their way back down the aisle. Harry was pretty sure some of the guests were tossing flower petals on them, or maybe spraying it from their wands with a charm. He caught the eyes of a few of his students as well as a number of Weasleys. They were all grinning widely, clapping and wolf-whistling. He spotted Narcissa Malfoy amongst the crowd too, and felt a jolt of surprise.
Mostly, though, Harry was focusing on the warm hand in his, the presence of the man by his side, and the rapid beating of his heart. The adrenaline hadn’t yet subsided.
He was married. To Draco Malfoy. Would wonders never cease.
Ron caught up with them at the end of the aisle, clapping Harry on the back on congratulations.
“We’ve got a room for you set up off the entrance hall,” he told them. “If you go back into the castle by the main doors, you should find it easily.”
Harry and Draco both thanked him and hurried along, the continued applause of their wedding guests slowly fading as they approached the castle. The guests themselves were instructed to wait for the couple to leave, before eventually making their way to the Great Hall for the reception.
It was pureblood tradition, apparently, for the newlyweds to sequester themselves in a private room for a few minutes directly following the ceremony, before they were meant to make their entrance at the reception and be announced as a married couple. It was a chance, Draco had explained to Harry, for the bride and groom (or, in their case, the two grooms) to have some alone time, to breathe and find some peace after the excitement of being wed.
Harry was all for it, especially now that he knew what it felt like. His blood was humming; he felt jittery and excitable and unable to contain himself. A quiet moment with Draco was exactly what was called for.
Ron was right, they found the room easily. It was a small but comfortable space with a few plush chairs and a window that looked out over the grounds. There was a fireplace, but no fire, given that it was quite a warm day and therefore unnecessary. Harry was feeling a bit hot in fact, after spending the entirety of the ceremony in the sun, and elected to remove his tuxedo jacket. He saw Draco doing the same, and gave him a smile.
“This was a very good idea,” Harry remarked with a relieved breath. “I don’t think I can handle all the excitement and the well-wishers just yet.”
“I don’t know how newlyweds survive the day without it,” Draco replied. He reached out a hand. “Come here, Husband.”
Harry went to him readily. “Husband,” he repeated, trying on the word. They had used it before, talked about it. But now it was real; it meant something. He took both of Draco’s hands, interlacing their fingers together.
They simply stood there a moment, foreheads resting together, clutching each other.
“My mother is here,” Draco said softly.
“I saw,” Harry replied, giving Draco’s hands a squeeze.
“I didn’t think… I never really expected…” He gave the smallest shakes of his head, as if in disbelief.
“I know.” Harry tilted forward, giving Draco a soft peck on the mouth.
“Didn’t see my father, though.”
“No, nor I. Though we’re hardly surprised, are we?”
“But my mother decided to show up anyway.”
“She’s always been more supportive.”
“She came without him. I just… didn’t think she would do that.”
Harry searched his new husband’s face, looking for a hint of what he was feeling about all of this. Happy? Confused? Sad?
“Is it a good sign, do you think?” Harry ventured. “A step in the right direction, at least?”
Draco met his eyes. “Yes. I suppose it is.” He kissed Harry soundly, and they pressed closer together. Harry’s hands began to venture up Draco’s arms, but paused as he felt the light scrape of metal against his palms. He looked down, turning over Draco’s wrists just so.
There was a stag pinned to his cuff, a very familiar one.
“You wore them,” he noted, pleasure filling him. He didn’t have to look at Draco’s other wrist to know he would find the dragon there.
“Of course I did,” Draco said, indignant. “They’re my favorite. Why would I wear anything else, on today of all days?”
Harry found he was grinning widely. “It is rather fitting, isn’t it?”
“You and me,” Draco replied. “Together.”
“A pair.” Harry looked down at the cufflinks again. “And a rather fine one at that.”
“Yes, Harry,” Draco said, chuckling, giving him another kiss. “Very fine.”
They went silent again for a little while, lightly pressed together, breathing and sighing, enjoying this short, quiet time together. Beyond the door, the bustle of their guests could be heard making their way into the Great Hall, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before he and Draco ought to go and join them.
Sure enough, there was a sharp knock on the door only a few moments later, and Ron stuck his head in.
“Everyone’s gathered,” he said.
“Yes, Ron, thank you for that,” Draco said, with poorly concealed annoyance. “And thank you for barging in without waiting for the go-ahead. Quite considerate of you.”
Ron merely grinned at him, unfazed. “You’re welcome.”
“Traditionally, the best man guards the door and waits for the couple to decide when they’re ready to make their appearance,” Draco explained, though rather unnecessarily. They’d had this conversation already. Many times.
“And what is the best woman’s job?” came another voice. Pansy stuck her head in a moment later, appearing right below Ron’s in the gap between the door and the frame.
“To make sure all of the guests have plenty of booze while they wait for us,” Draco replied smoothly. He made a gesture with his hand. “Off you pop, then.”
Pansy scowled at him. “It’s a job easily done, you imperious prat,” she said. “But the guests want to see you. You’ve been in here twenty minutes already, by my count.”
“Impossible,” said Draco.
“Very possible,” said Ron.
Draco was about to open his mouth to reply, but Harry decided to intervene. “Just… guard the door, will you, Ron? We’ll be out soon, I promise. And Pansy, if you would be so kind as to make sure that the wine is flowing freely and that the servers are putting out the finger-food, I would be forever in your debt.”
Pansy smiled sweetly at him. “Of course, Harry, love. Anything for you.”
The two disappeared again, closing the door behind them.
“Pansy is nicer to you than she is to me,” Draco complained. “It hardly seems fair.”
“Ever thought it’s because I’m nicer to her than you are?” Harry pointed out affectionately.
“I’m sharp-witted and unapologetic,” Draco replied, rolling his shoulders defensively. “It’s part of my charm.”
Harry kissed his cheek. “If you say so, love.”
“I won you in the end, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. Quite thoroughly, in fact.” Harry kissed his cheek again, then his nose, then his lips. He lingered there, but heard from outside the sounds of the band starting up. Apparently the party was going on without them. “All right, Husband,” he said. “I think it’s time. We should get out there.”
Draco sighed. “Yes, I suppose we must.” He pulled away. “And we should put our blazers back on. Otherwise everyone will assume we’ve been doing naughty things in here.”
“Which wouldn’t be so bad really,” Harry replied with a grin. “I wish we could do naughty things.”
“One track mind,” Draco accused flipping his tuxedo jacket around and putting an arm through. “Save it for tonight, once we can be properly alone to enjoy it.”
“That’s if we don’t drink too much,” Harry reminded him.
Draco went still in the middle of straightening his collar, giving Harry a sharp look. “It will be our wedding night, Potter. You’d better not drink too much,” he warned. “Or I’ll have your arse.”
“I rather thought you having my arse was the point,” Harry riposted with a smile. “Or the other way around. I’m not bothered.”
Draco fixed him with a stare that Harry assumed was meant to be unamused. But he had caught the small twitch of Draco’s lips, and knew the man wasn’t actually angry. Harry put on his own jacket.
“I was planning on having all of my wits about me tonight,” Harry assured him, stepping closer. “This is about you and me, after all.”
He saw Draco’s expression soften. “I suppose we also have plenty of time on our honeymoon as well,” he condeded.
“Yes, we do. As well as, you know…” Harry shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “… the rest of our lives.”
Draco pulled Harry into a kiss, a fierce one that conveyed his approval of that last sentiment. “Yes, that too,” he said.
They were quiet again, but only for a moment. They knew their guests’ patience was wearing thin.
“All right, my love,” Draco said, pulling away but taking Harry’s hand in his own. “Let’s go out there and show them what a fine pair we make, hm?”
Harry smiled, tightening his grip and receiving a responding squeeze. “Yes. Let’s.”
goddess-of_dragons: It’s been wonderful to have your trusted support and I was very excited to see you as the first review for this collection on AFF! I’m glad I could answer some questions for you, like if Harry knew Draco was watching in the corridor. I had always intended that he didn’t know. I figure he’s not the kind of guy to voice either voyeurism or exhibitionism on people without their consent. I hope this latest installment gives some insight into when Harry started to develop feelings. Your review gave me inspiration and I wanted to delve into that a little bit.
And I especially hope you don’t still feel bad about the whole Tuscany thing. I’d forgotten about that, honestly, until I reread your review in order to respond to this :) I see our stories, and our writing, as distinctive, so I don’t have a problem will there being overlap occasionally. It’s sort of inevitable, when you write fanfiction.
I hope things are better in your world and that the writing is going well! <3
Callidus-Anguis: It made me incredibly happy to get two reviews from you :) I’m very glad you made a point to share all the things you ate curious about seeing in this collection. I have made note of your requests, and I have a few ideas. As you can see, writing has been slow going lately, but my hope is to get to it all eventually. I think having Draco and Harry dig more into their history and come to terms with the past would make for an especially interesting extra. It pretty much has to be done, for them to be able to move forward.
And I agree, Harry would most definitely find it hot that he was the trigger of Draco’s bisexual awakening. You are not the only one to request it, so I might have to make that reveal happen :)
Thanks for all your wonderful feedback! <3
Shaymarsh640: I’m so glad you’re reading this too! I hope you will take a look at my response at the end of the first story in this as well, because I do some gushing of my own :) It’s just been so great to have you on board. I hope this installment lives up to your hopes for this collection! <3
blake5156: Here you go, a little more at least! As you can see, writing has been slow lately, but I’m trying my hardest. I hope to have the next installment out sooner. Thanks for reading! <3
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