You and Me

"Anyone sitting here?"

Without looking up from his lunch, Harry grinned and gestured to the chair on his right.

"You know no one is, Hermione."

As a tray was placed carefully on the table, Harry glanced at its contents and rolled his eyes. Hermione sat beside him, looking very business-like in her smart robes.

"You are scarily predictable, you know that?"

Looking up, he watched as Hermione grinned in response and began eating her salad.

"Ron seems to think the exact same thing. You've not been talking about me behind my back, now, have you?" she teased, already knowing the answer.

Harry chuckled and turned back to his food, glad for the routine distraction from his thoughts.

"So what's got you so thoughtful again?"

"The usual," Harry sighed. "Draco's still kinda subdued, and I know it's all annoying him."

"He always likes being in control, likes to know what is going on and why," Hermione stated.

"True. Which is why I want to help him so much. I mean, I'd want to help him anyway, but the fact that it's frustrating him so much makes it a bigger issue. If you understand what I mean. Don't suppose you have any ideas, do you?"

He asked the same question every day, and each day he was given the same answer.

"Yep, had an epiphany last night."

Harry blinked. That wasn't right. His ears had to be deceiving him. Turning his head around slowly, disbelieving, he looked again at Hermione. Her eyes were sparkling in the light, as she smiled excitedly at Harry.

"An epiphany?" Harry repeated. He sincerely hoped he wasn't going insane and simply hearing things he wanted to. That kind of thing could get him shipped off to St Mungo's pretty sharpish.

"Yes. Look, I have a meeting this afternoon, but if we walk to my office now, we should have some time to discuss my idea before I have to go. I can gather everything I need while we talk."

Harry smiled at her, relieved that the brains of their infamous trio had come through for him again. "I really appreciate this, Hermione. Thanks."

Hermione smiled back at him as they gathered up their rubbish to throw away on their way out. "We don't know if it will work yet, but I hope I can help. Let's get going. I don't want to be late for this meeting with Hadwinson."

At Hermione's grimace, Harry chuckled and together they headed towards her office.

~*~

That evening, there was a knock on her office door. Hermione looked up at the interruption, her hair ruffled and her expression one of impatience. Seeing who it was, she went back to the document she was leafing through and continued working, only giving a fraction of her attention to the man at her door.

"Yes?"

"I don't suppose you know where Harry is, do you?" Draco asked.

"Sorry, I haven't seen him since lunch. I think he said he was going to take the afternoon off to run some personal errands, or something."

"Have you any idea where he may have gone now? He isn't at home and that fool in his office said the same as you; Potter hasn't been seen since he had lunch with you."

When she heard him say "Potter", she knew that Harry was in trouble. She glanced at Draco momentarily. Just as she had suspected, he was frowning down at her, his arms folded angrily against his chest. He always seemed taller, almost towering, when he was annoyed.

Unperturbed by his stance, she went back to the last few pages in her hands. "What about The Monkey House? It's Friday, so maybe he went straight to the club after changing at home. I'm supposed to be heading there myself soon, but I can't leave work until this has been looked over and signed."

As she grimaced in frustration, reaching absently for a quill, Draco asked, "Hadwinson?"

"Yes. You know I hate to call people names, but he is a doddering old fool and I can't figure out why the Ministry still keeps him around." She paused in what she was doing and pursed her lips. "They may all talk about keeping up with modern times - which I swear they have copied from Muggle politicians' speeches - but there always seem to be people like Hadwinson, blithering on about tradition and how we must take into consideration that we are 'still magical beings and should remember our roots and forefathers'. I'm all for tradition, but modern technology is improving in leaps and bounds and witches and wizards everywhere can't just ignore such an essential part of life."

Draco raised an amused eyebrow at her little rant, his gaze flickering momentarily to the quill she was still holding in the inkwell. "What did you do to convince him it was a good idea to let them go ahead and open this new department? I take it you won, if it's all official and needing signatures now."

Hermione abandoned her quill altogether as she straightened up and folded her arms, unconsciously mirroring Draco across the desk. "I took him aside for a few minutes and explained to him that we are trying to keep up with the changes in magic, because as with the Muggle world and technology, it IS changing. I agree that St Mungo's has been doing very well all these years, and that it is a well known fact that everything they have there already is very satisfactory for the patients they receive. However, I am also from one of the newer generations, and we all know that since Voldemort was defeated, more and more wizards are becoming interested in Muggles and how they're improving their world."

"Did he try to point out the fact that many Muggles and their inventions are also destroying the word and its occupants?"

"Yes, I admitted that technology also has its flaws, but I think I finally got through to him. St Mungo's needs this new department and the learning facilities it would need to educate staff to work there. I mean, how long did we honestly think wizards would rely on magic to hurt people? Of course some were going to one day bring across guns and start trying to meddle with them. We need some people to keep up with these changes and help to cure anyone wounded by guns and other Muggle related contraptions, without causing further damage.

"Maybe one day we'll need an entire new floor built for this department. It all depends on how much further this experimenting goes on underground. But if we can keep up with it all, if we can train people to work in this department successfully so they can cure people shot with these modified guns and stop wizards from dying because of it, I think it would solve a lot of problems before they grow too big."

"Hadn't you already told him all that before, though?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Well, yes, but this time I was a bit more persuasive," she replied reluctantly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You didn't throw him against the wall and pin him there until he agreed with you, did you, Granger?"

Hermione gasped, offended. "I certainly did not! I think it just took a while for him to see it from my point of view. But he finally did, and he's signing the papers as we speak. Hopefully."

With a wry smile, she reached down for her quill again. "And by the way, do not call poor David a fool. He tries his hardest, but you know he worships the very ground Harry walks on."

"I bet he collects broken quills that Harry has used. And he is a fool. How many times do I have to drop by before he realises I am not there simply to learn the layout of the land in preparation for staging some grand kidnapping? I'm still trying to work out whether he's afraid for his own safety or his hero's."

"Oh, Draco. You should stop teasing the poor man. He's only just out of university and he's trying ever so hard to help Harry with all the odds and ends he simply can't spare any time to work on. And," she took a moment to glare at him and stab the end of her quill at his chest sharply, "we are all aware that you often threaten David."

Draco blinked, innocent and childlike. "Me? I haven't threatened anyone. There are so many alarms and wards around this building anyway, all I would have to show for it would be a body-binding charm or three and a lot of paperwork afterwards."

Hermione glared at him and dropped her gaze down to the document again, quickly perusing the closing paragraph for a final time. "Still, you could try to be nicer to him. Harry and I have both overheard you talking to him sometimes. I'm surprised he hasn't taken to hiding out in another office while you're here."

Draco sniffed. "You, Ms Granger, are no fun at all."

Hermione snorted and signed her name with a flourish, glad to be finishing for the day. "I hear something very different from Ron, you know."

"Yuck," Draco took a step back from her desk and raised his hands in surrender, "I do NOT want to know about the Weasel and his version of 'fun', thank you very much. I do not regale you with tales of my sex life, and I'd appreciate it if you would grant me the same mercy."

"Oh, come on you," Hermione scoffed gently, her tone affectionate as she smiled at Draco. "Let me grab my things and then we can head on over to my place so I can change before we go looking for Harry."

~*~

The club was crowded and noisy, as was usual for a late Friday evening. There was the constant rumbling of conversation, a monotonous mumbling laying atop the thumping music, occasionally broken by roars of laughter. Some groups were growing rowdy, eager to enjoy the weekend and make the most of their time away from work, while others were simply nursing a few drinks and chatting amongst themselves about their future plans. Everyone was relaxed, obviously taking advantage of their time off.

Draco and Hermione were just inside the entrance to the club, letting their eyes grow accustomed to the dark void, which was broken only by a few lights flickering and casting mysterious colours around the room every now and then. As with other clubs, you could hear the music from the street outside, but you only ever had past experience to rely on to prepare yourself for the oppressive heat inside.

Grasping Draco's hand in hers, Hermione silently dragged him behind her as she headed towards the bar. Their hands were already rather sweaty, so Hermione had to hold on tight as she dodged the jostling patches of people and tried to keep Draco close. Soon they were both safely seated on two stools, side by side at the bar.

Hermione leaned towards Draco, trying to make herself heard over the noise. "The usual?"

At Draco's nod, she straightened up again and caught the bartender's eye, smiling and gesturing with her hand slightly. The young man grinned back and quickly handed his customer their change before making his way towards their end of the bar, a stray white light catching his dark, spiky hair.

"Hiya Gorgeous! Blondie! What can I get for you?" He quickly and automatically mopped up a little puddle of spilt beer with his rag and flung it back over his shoulder as he spoke.

"A harvey wallbanger and a dry white wine, please, Mac."

Winking and smiling flirtatiously, Mac turned and left to gather their drinks. When he returned a minute later, Hermione and Draco took appreciative sips from their glasses and simultaneously reached for their money.

"I'll get these," Hermione insisted.

"No, you won't," Draco argued. "It's my turn, remember?"

Hermione laughed softly and dropped the hand holding her purse into her lap. "We don't take turns, you know."

Draco sniffed, straightening his spine and taking on a superior posture. "I am feeling chivalrous. Take advantage of the fact."

Hermione grinned wickedly and moved to put away her money. "I'll thank Harry next time I see him."

"Ungrateful wench," Draco muttered, knowing she would lip-read his teasing, as he reached for his drink.

Mac was still waiting, smirking at their antics as he leaned against the bar. When he saw Draco dropping some coins before him, he put two fingers to his temple in salute and quickly picked up the money to put in the till.

Just then, a hand fell on both of their shoulders, a familiar shock of red hair appearing between them.

"Finally, you two! What took so long?" Ron turned and dropped a quick kiss on Hermione's cheek.

"You know how Hermione is when it comes to work. She was faffing around with paperwork when I found her."

Hermione pulled a face and twisted around on her stool to join in the conversation, her arm leaning back on the bar and keeping her steady as she pushed her knees against Ron so she could have room to manoeuvre.

"I'll have you know I have finally finished with Hadwinson."

Ron blinked, mouth gaping as he mock-demanded, "You were going out with the git?"

Hermione slapped the mock-indignant redhead on the chest and scowled. "You know very well I wasn't. I am faithful to you, and you know it. Anyway, we all know what happened when you thought I was having an affair with Mac."

"I'm surprised Mac still serves you drinks," Draco added, smirking as he took another sip from his glass.

Ron stuck his tongue out at him and folded his arms across his chest. "I'll have you know it was a misunderstanding and Mac completely sympathised with me when we realised what was really happening."

"It wasn't that hard to understand, Weasel." Draco rolled his eyes. "You punched the man for trying to be Prince Charming, and got slapped, in turn, by this vicious woman here."

"Keep insulting me like that and I'll teach you a whole new meaning of the word vicious," Hermione threatened, setting her drink down as she wagged her finger at them.

"Believe me, mate," Ron said to Draco, "she doesn't need to lay a hand on you to make you cry and go running for your mummy. And anyway, he was kissing her! What was I supposed to do? As her boyfriend, I was supposed to step in and ... make sure he knew what he was getting himself into."

"At least he didn't say 'and reclaim my territory' this time," Hermione commented, pleased with the improvement.

Draco smirked at Ron. "You have a nasty habit of pissing your lady love off, it would seem."

"I'll have you know you were the first git she ever slapped."

"And I'll have you know that I am not as notorious for violence as you two say I am. I've never slapped Harry."

"If you ask me, he's deserved a slap more often than we have." Ron nodded his agreement. "Anyway, that reminds me, where is he?"

Glancing at Draco, Ron smirked and stared at the drinks lining the back of the bar, his eyes slightly dreamy. Draco followed his gaze and then rolled his eyes.

"Would alcohol jog your memory?" he asked, his tone incredulous.

Ron grinned slyly at him and looked at him from the corner of his eye. "That's the best idea you've ever come up with. Let's try it."

Hermione shook her head, smiling in a "children will play" way. "You said you were paying for this round, anyway."

Draco rolled his eyes and reached for some more money. He dropped the coins into Ron's upturned palm and then looked at him expectantly.

Ron slowly counted it out, bending his head low over his hand for a better view and taking his time, knowing it would annoy Draco no end.

Draco cleared his throat loudly, trying to exaggerate it so that he would be heard over the music. He failed. "Weasel!"

Ron finally looked up at the warning tone and grinned, unaffected by Draco's menace. "Alright, keep your hair on, Malfoy. I saw him about an hour ago. He was sitting at the back, our usual table, and then he was gone a few minutes later. Said he had something to do."

"Anything else?"

"Sorry, mate. Just that it was important. Oh, wait, he mentioned going home, so I figured it was something to do with you."

"Great," Draco grumbled, drowned out by the music. "I'll see you both later."

"Bye, Draco!" Hermione said, smiling as she lifted her drink in silent thanks to him.

"See ya!" Ron immediately took Draco's place at the bar, turning sideways to face Hermione. He gestured to Mac and grinned.

"Later, Blondie!" Mac called after him.

Draco quickly battled his way through the thickening crowd of hot, sweaty bodies, dodging shadowy limbs which moved in random directions and drinks which appeared out of nowhere, clutched in hands gesticulating wildly. Soon he was at the door, stepping out onto the dark street, breathing a sigh of relief.

There was a breeze about, buffeting against him and soothing his skin. Taking a deep breath, Draco relished the smell of fresh air, containing only a hint of smoke and alcohol. He knew, however, that his skin, his hair and his clothes probably reeked of the stuff to anyone who had not been in the club themselves. He debated casting a spell to rid himself of the stench, but decided against it, as he was still annoyed with Harry and felt like revelling in a little petulance. It felt liberating to rebel, even in such a small way.

Outside, on the near-deserted stretch of road, it was as dark as inside the club, if not worse. The few patches of light created by the sparse lampposts seemed to make the shadows that fell between them even darker and deeper, sinister and deadly. Luckily, Draco didn't have far to walk home.

When he arrived, he quickly opened the front door and entered the familiar, warm hallway. He glanced around in confusion at first, seeing only a few lights on in the kitchen and the main room, both of which were empty of life. The only other light he could see was upstairs, where a soft glow had fallen on the wall and a short strip of the carpet.

Silently and carefully, Draco made his way up the stairs, unsure of what to expect. He was attempting to hold on to his annoyance, but the little cloud of doubt that had been sitting at the back of his mind about Harry and his strange behaviour was distracting. In the end, when he reached their bedroom door, which was slightly ajar, the dominant feeling was confusion.

Their bedroom was empty, everything as it had been left that morning. Even the sheets, which had been hastily thrown back in an attempt to make it look as if they had tried to make the bed, were still lying crumpled and lifeless.

Suddenly, he heard a tap turn on in the adjoining bathroom, the sound muffled by the closed door. Feeling less tense now that he had found Harry, and hopefully some answers along with him, he sat on his side of the bed, facing the door, and waited patiently for his lover to finish whatever he was doing.

He heard a pause and then a sudden splash. Something had been under the flow of water. Harry's hands, perhaps? Draco released his breath in a huff, glancing around the room for no reason other than to distract himself from the slow passage of time. The tap was turned off. Draco glanced at the clock on Harry's bedside table. 8:57pm. It was one of those modern Muggle contraptions, made of plastic with red glowing numbers.

Draco started tapping his foot, the soft, constant thudding muffled by the plush carpet beneath his boots. A few minutes later, after Draco had grown bored of tapping his foot and had begun inspecting his fingernails, the door finally swung open and the bathroom light was switched off with a snap.

"What on earth were you doing in there, Potter? Staring at yourself in the mirror all this time? You can't keep people waiting forever for you to appear, you know." Draco scowled at him, finding his annoyance with ease as he watched Harry blink in shock. He would have to sneak up on Harry more often.

"Um, what?"

Draco rolled his eyes and stood, folding his arms across his chest as he drew nearer to Harry, who looked as if he had gathered his wits about him once again. "I've been looking for you since lunchtime, you cretin, and I am feeling rather irritated."

"Well, you've found me now."

Harry closed the door behind himself, quickly kissed Draco on the cheek and then side-stepped around him, heading towards the landing.

Annoyed even further, Draco pursed his lips and followed him downstairs. "Is that all you have to say for yourself? No one had any idea where you were, or if they did, you obviously told them not to tell me, which would worry me if I wasn't so suspicious of your ulterior motives. Don't I deserve an explanation?"

Harry turned abruptly at the bottom of the stairs and grasped Draco, who had been slightly startled by the sudden move, by his upper arms, steadying him and halting him all at the same time.

"Draco, yes, you do deserve an explanation. And I have one for you. But you have to wait until after tea, so come on."

With that said, Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco firmly on the lips, a proper welcome home this time. When he pulled back, he took a few seconds to savour the taste of orange-tinted alcohol in his mouth and then grinned widely at Draco, licking his lips cheekily.

He then continued into the kitchen, leaving Draco alone to wonder how much planning Harry had put into ... whatever it was he had planned. Feeling dissatisfied with what he had been told, but figuring it wasn't worth needling for more information and risking a pissed-off Potter, Draco slowly followed him into the kitchen. He saw Harry looking in the fridge, studying the contents intently, and frowned as he leaned against the counter-top on the opposite side of the room to where Harry was still standing.

"How come I can't smell anything?"

Harry closed the door of the fridge, a bottle of white wine in hand, and turned to smile mischievously at Draco. He walked around to the oven and passed the wine on to Draco, before he squatted down to peer inside through the fogged up door.

"Because, my little Slytherin, I cast a spell so that you wouldn't be able to figure out what I was cooking before I could tell you."

"You cast a spell on me? And don't call me little."

"Without asking you for permission first? I wouldn't dare. And you know it."

"You shouldn't dare call me little, either," Draco grumbled.

Harry straightened up again and reached out to caress Draco's cheek, silently asking him to relax and cheer up.

"Look," he said, smiling warmly, "you just sit down at the table and I'll bring it over. I dished it all up about fifteen minutes ago and just put it in the oven to keep it warm until you got here. Just enjoy your surprises, okay?"

"Surprises? I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

Shaking his head and smiling widely again, Harry pointed towards the dining room without a word and waited until Draco smiled slightly in reply and wandered through.

A few seconds later, Draco began to notice a faint familiar smell in the air, a teasing fragrance slowly drifting through into the room. Just then, Harry joined him with two steaming plates of food, and Draco finally got a good whiff of his favourite meal.

"Fillet of sole?"

Harry shrugged and smiled at the pleased expression on Draco's face. "Yeah, well. As corny as this may sound, I wanted tonight to be special. Plus, I knew you'd be upset with me for disappearing, so I also knew I'd have some grovelling to do."

"Yes, you do," Draco replied evenly, happily breathing in the rich aroma and taking in the wonderful sight before him.

"I didn't expect you to forgive me easily. I do know you rather well, after all." Harry grinned at Draco, opening the bottle of wine as he spoke.

Throughout the meal, they chatted amiably about work, friends and their plans for the weekend. The evening was saved, or so it seemed, and they both enjoyed the other's company. When they had finished eating, Harry gathered together their empty plates and placed them in the sink for washing later. Returning to the dining room, Harry took Draco's hand and led him through to the main room, where he sat them both down on the couch, close, their legs pressed together.

Draco sat quietly as Harry took a deep breath, still holding onto Draco's hand, resting their interlaced fingers on his knee.

"Okay, I can't really think of a way to say this without confusing you or just saying it all wrong. So, I think it would be best if I just showed you and then explained everything."

"Show me?" Draco asked, sounding slightly worried.

"Yeah." Harry took another deep breath and released Draco's hand so that he could use both of his to reach for the buttons of his shirt.

He slowly and carefully began undoing them, keeping the garment closed as he worked his way down. When he had undone them all, he grasped the edges and pulled his shirt off, hesitating momentarily before dropping it and allowing it to pool around him, leaving his torso bare.

Draco gasped quietly and automatically lifted his hand to touch Harry. He paused just before their skin made contact, suddenly uncertain of himself. His hand dropped a little, still hovering in mid-air, but allowing him an unobstructed view of the tattoo.

It was a dragon, simple and beautiful in all its green glory. It only depicted the dragon's head and shoulders, but you could see the power of the creature, sleek and deadly. Its scales were dusky green in colour, perfect for camouflaging itself in a forest, with each one outlined and detailed skilfully. The only other colour was in its eye: a striking amber, bright and lifelike.

The dragon suddenly moved and flexed as Harry finally reached for Draco's hand, covering the top of it with his own. Slowly, as if to avoid spooking him, Harry placed their joined hands over the tattoo. Draco's fingertips were against Harry's collarbone, only a little bit of green peeking between his long, thin fingers and showing through where his hand didn't quite cover the artwork etched under his lover's skin.

Suddenly, the small patches of green seamlessly shifted and changed colour before his very eyes, becoming black and shadowy. It startled Draco so much that Harry couldn't have prevented him from jerking his hand away if he'd tried. The dragon, in full view again, was majestic and seemed even larger in its new skin. The eye was a haunting, misty coloured silver and the teeth were a gleaming white, more noticeable and sharp in appearance against the midnight black scales.

"Harry?"

"Don't worry," Harry reassured him hurriedly, grasping Draco's hand again. "That's supposed to happen!"

"Why?"

"You remember a couple of weeks ago you couldn't sleep because you'd been worrying about something? You know, that one day I would stop loving you?"

Draco nodded slowly, mesmerised by the dragon.

"Well, I wanted to do something to prove to you that I still love you, that I will always love you. I know what it's like just wanting to know that someone loves you, truly loves you, and wanting some kind of proof. Anyway, to cut a long story short, the solution sort of fell in my lap around lunchtime today, and I disappeared to take care of it right away. Which was why you couldn't find me. Only Hermione knew what I was doing, and I asked her not to tell you where I'd gone so I could surprise you."

"Couldn't you have at least given her a message for me?" Draco asked, looking Harry in the face once again, his expression one of hurt and indignation.

"I'm really sorry about that. I didn't think." Harry reached across with his other hand and pushed a lock of hair behind Draco's ear, his tone and gesture apologetic.

Draco glanced at the dragon again, a look of wonder replacing the shock from earlier as it moved and stretched with the motion of Harry's arm.

"So, anyway, I went to the club afterwards for a quick drink and came home to make tea. You knew all that before, but that's everything that I did. Everything."

"But why did you get the tattoo done? Why did it change colour when I touched it? What does it mean?" Draco had had enough of being patient now and he wanted answers, before Harry confused him even more.

"It changes colour depending on who touches it. There's this new thing they can do with magical tattoos these days, where they can charm it so that the colour reflects how you feel about someone, for example."

Draco jumped in with, "Black?" He frowned. "Does that mean you hate me?"

"No, no! It means I love you!" Harry breathed deeply and smiled at Draco, cocking his head to one side. "I got to choose the colour I wanted each different feeling to represent. I chose black for love and desire because this," he pointed to the tattoo, "reminds me of you: beautiful and mysterious. Green is for someone I like; blue is for someone I'm not too fond of; red is someone I love as a good friend or family; and white with red eyes is for someone I hate."

Harry grinned at Draco, amused by the slightly dazed look in his eyes. "They're just the basic ones, really, but if it ever turns a colour I haven't explained, just ask and I'll tell you what it means. You'll get used to it and probably be able to guess what each different shade means, anyway."

"So why was it green first?" Draco asked, intrigued. It was actually rather entertaining.

"Green is the colour it returns to a few hours after someone has touched it, seeing as it's a nice neutral colour and it suits me. Plus, I figured if anyone touched it by accident and it didn't change colour, they wouldn't start asking lots of questions. Anyway, most people who can get that close to me are people that I like and get along with, so it would have changed to green anyway."

"Oh, I see. That makes sense."

There was a slight pause as Draco stared at the tattoo again, trying to get used to the idea of seeing it on his lover's skin every day, every night. It had all been for him, to show him that he was loved. Smiling softly, Draco stretched out his fingers again, lightly tracing the outline of the dragon with a single fingertip, the contact barely there. His smile widened as Harry shifted slightly, chuckling at the tickling sensation.

"So you're going to spend more time admiring my tattoo than me?" Harry teased.

"Possibly," Draco teased back. "At least it doesn't talk back to me."

"Yes, but it won't do what you ask either. It can't move at all."

"Ah well, nothing new there then."

Harry slapped his hand lightly, dislodging it from its continuous path across Harry's chest. "Come on, we still have dessert to eat, you know."

"Dessert? Wow, you really need to disappear more often. I like it when you grovel."

"Not a chance. Take advantage of it while it lasts." Harry stood up from his seat, pulling Draco up with him and heading towards the kitchen again.

"Which reminds me, Granger owes me two drinks."

"Why?" Harry frowned, pausing on his way to the kitchen to look back at Draco questioningly.

"I bought her a drink this evening, after you hinted last time that I should try being more of a gentleman," Draco dug his elbow in Harry's ribs none too lightly, "if that is at all possible, and now I have discovered she lied to me. So, of course, she has some apologising to do as well."

Harry chuckled and shook his head in amusement as he reached the fridge and pulled the door open to peruse its contents again. "Alright, I'll make sure we remember next time we see her."

"Good. Now what's for dessert?"

"Ice cream and truffle chocolates."

Draco just grinned and leaned against Harry's back, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist and dropping his chin on his lover's shoulder, looking into the fridge for himself. He felt their combined weight shift forward slightly, as Harry reached in for a tub of ice cream and another smaller box sat on top of it, and tightened his grip slightly. Together, they turned and sat side by side at the kitchen table, their treats in front of them.

"So, are you ready to forgive me yet?" Harry asked, stretching to his left so that he could grab two spoons from a nearby drawer.

"Let me think about it," Draco replied, smirking like the devil himself as he flipped the lid off the truffles and selected one.

Harry smiled at Draco as he watched him pop the chocolate into his mouth and chew slowly, savouring the taste. "Oh, and I have something else to tell you, as well."

Taking the spoon that was offered to him, Draco frowned slightly and pulled the ice cream closer to them. "Something else?"

"Yep." Harry helped himself to a spoonful of strawberry goodness and leaned his elbows on the table, his shoulder pressed close to Draco's. "That song that seemed to be the catalyst for all that worrying? I gave it to Ron. And I found a song to replace it."

"But that song hasn't been played much recently. I could have just forgotten about it and it wouldn't have mattered any more that it does now."

"I know, but I wanted to make you forget about it completely and remember something else instead." Harry tipped his hand back and tapped Draco lightly on the nose with the back of his spoon, leaving a small smear of ice cream in its wake.

Draco blinked and tried to look at it, causing Harry to grin as he crossed his eyes. He playfully stuck his tongue out at Harry and then tried to lick his own nose, knowing in advance he had no hope of reaching it. Just as he suspected, Harry leaned forward and gently flicked his tongue over the tip of his nose, cleaning it up for him.

"So? What song has caused the romantic in you to surface?" Draco asked, turning back to digging his spoon into the ice cream again.

"They're not that well known, really, I don't think."

"Another Muggle band?"

"Yes, although, I don't know if many Muggles would even know the name of the band. The Wannadies."

"What a strange name. Muggles do come up with peculiar names for bands."

"And wizards don't?"

"Alright, so some are a little ... weird, but really."

Harry smiled and stretched his arm out to scoop up a truffle in his spoon. "Well, anyway, it's called the "You and Me Song", and even though it's pretty cheesy, I like the lyrics."

"Have you got it here?"

"Yeah, it's upstairs. Want to take the ice cream upstairs with us and listen to it? If you think it's too cheesy, it'll still be good for a laugh and a new song fixation." Harry winked at Draco as he batted his hand away from the truffles and put the lid back on, gathering both the ice cream and the chocolates in his hands.

"Wherever those truffles go, I am following," Draco warned.

Harry jogged up the stairs, guarding his goodies close to his chest, laughing as Draco gave chase. As he ran past the stereo system sitting on the dressing table, Harry deftly hit the play button and then flung himself on the bed, curving his body around his arms protectively as he landed on his side.

Grinning, Draco pounced on Harry as the CD began playing. When the one you loved had chocolate, what else were you supposed to do?

Always when we fight
I try to make you laugh
Until everything's forgotten
I know you hate that....