A Certain Kind of Memory

When Andromeda took Teddy and moved to France,

I almost went with them.

Teddy felt like the last link to my parents, and Remus and Sirius.

In some ways I felt like I would be letting them all down

if I didn't look out for Teddy.

Narcissa was the one who suggested I stay in England.

She said that Teddy didn't need the notoriety that would come

from having me in his life.

It was the first time anyone had not wanted to know me because of who I was.

It was refreshing.

I do miss him though.

Harry Potter, February 2006.

"Draco, have you seen that navy silk shirt of mine?" Harry called as he rummaged through the closet.

"Last time I saw it, it was on your back," Draco replied, popping his head into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Although, now I think about it, I did see it on the floor after you undressed. Why don't you just wear another one?"

"I might have to, damn it," Harry grouched. "I specifically wanted to wear that one though."

"Maybe you should just wear nothing," Draco commented as he finished in the bathroom and moved back into the bedroom, removing his towel and dropping it on the floor. Harry saw it and laughed to himself. Some things never changed.

"Ah, but that look works better for you," Harry said appreciatively, giving his boyfriend the once over.

"But of course," Draco replied, eyebrow suggestively raised. "I merely saw you shirtless and thought to distract you."

"Well I don't think you needed to say anything to do that. The sight of your naked body is distraction enough." Harry winked at him. And really, who could blame him? The long lean lines of Draco's pale body always seemed to glow in the dim light of late afternoon.

"Can't be too distracting if you're all the way over there, still." Draco pouted, one hand on his hip, the other fondling himself.

Harry stalked across the room to stand in front of Draco as close as he could without touching him, though with each movement of Draco's hand on his balls a rapidly hardening erection brushed against Harry's stomach. "That's hardly fair," he said softly, barely a whisper.

"Why's that?" Draco breathed into Harry's mouth, daring him, drawing him closer.

"Because you're going to make me late," he replied, letting their lips brush only with the movement of his speech.

"Late for what?"

"I have no fucking idea." Harry groaned as he slid his arms around Draco's waist and bore them both to the bed.

Harry was really surprised to find that Draco was already lubed up and stretched. He smirked. "You planned this all along didn't you, you wanton thing?"

Draco was too busy undoing Harry's trousers to do much more than spread his legs wider and nod, gasping as three of Harry's fingers entered him at once to make sure that ready really was ready.

By the time Harry pushed himself into Draco's welcoming heat, he was hard enough to drill holes and from there it didn't take long until they'd set a rhythm, rocking and moving together like a sinuous snake. When Draco clamped his legs tightly around Harry's waist and arched his back, he came with a cry, dragging Harry along with him.

"That was short." Harry puffed into Draco's neck and he lay draped over Draco's still panting body. "But incredibly sweet. You should keep yourself ready at all times for when the pleasure takes me."

Draco laughed. "Chained to the bed naked, with a dildo inserted at all times, except when it's your cock, right?"

"Of course. You're my own private sex slave." He smirked.

"I suppose that's to be expected when you have a body like mine." Draco sighed theatrically.

Harry laughed again and pushed himself up, looking down at the expanse of beautiful body under him.

"The price you pay..." he mused, grinning.

"Consider yourself lucky that I let your Neanderthal hands anywhere near this perfection."

"Oh, I do, Draco, I do," Harry replied, absolutely seriously. Draco gave him an odd yearning look for just an instant before the teasing flirt covered it once more.

"Now, weren't you going to be late for something or can I tempt you to stay with me for a proper late Sunday afternoon laze in bed?"

"Ah, yes." Harry sighed and rose from the bed, picking up his clothes. "You haven't seen my navy silk shirt anywhere have you?" he asked.

"I told you before, the last time I saw it was on the floor."

"You did?" Harry replied, scratching his head. "You must have distracted me more than I thought."

Inside, a cold dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He had absolutely no recollection of asking Draco about his shirt.

***

Two hours later as he prepared to Floo home from Hogwarts, he'd convinced himself that it had just been one of those things where he hadn't been paying attention and been really, really distracted by a naked Draco playing with himself. After all, he'd just spent the last two hours with Headmistress McGonagall, hammering out a plan to run a charity Quidditch match at Hogwarts - current students and teachers of Hogwarts against past students - and he'd not had any further lapses.

No, it was just an aberration, that's all. It was only early February; he still had heaps of time left. Still, it might not be such a bad idea to begin taking the potion more often now. It was worrying because he already had to take it every two weeks, and he could feel the time bomb in his head ticking away relentlessly.

When he returned home, he half expected to find Draco still in bed, lazing around after their late afternoon shag. He could go some more of that and take his time about playing with Draco's body. After he'd told Draco the good news about the charity match. It was something he'd thought about on and off for a while now, ever since he'd discovered that the Ministry was cutting funding to the orphanages in regards to education. The situation was political; he thought that the Ministry should bear the bill and look after the children, but he also liked the idea of the community assisting where it could. There were still a lot of families who had stayed virtually neutral during the war, and who were looking for ways to ingratiate themselves to the Wizarding population. Donating money to a cause was a good start, especially if it was education.

So, he'd approached various ex-students he knew to gauge reaction to playing a charity match. Everyone he'd spoken to had agreed in principle. Even Ginny, though she'd need to get official permission from her club, and that might be difficult as they'd become rather protective of her since her accident. Even though she was back in training and flying almost as well as ever, they were still being very careful of her.

McGonagall had agreed in principle as well and they'd just spent two hours working out ground rules and setting a date. It wasn't as early as Harry would have liked as having it in August meant that he was probably going to miss out, knowing his luck - which sent a cold chill up his spine when he thought on it - but signing up league stars against the finest Hogwarts had to offer was going to pull huge advertising and be the biggest charity match since the Cannons vs. Harpies game where Ginny fell last year.

Harry was really excited and couldn't wait to tell Draco. But there was a note on the fridge saying that he'd headed back to the shop to finish up an order for Hogwarts and would be home later. Bugger that, Harry thought, I want to tell him now.

He tossed a handful of Floo powder in the fireplace and stepped through.

When he arrived, the shop was quiet and only dimly lit by a solitary candle in a sconce on the wall close enough to the Floo for vision, but casting eerie shadows over the multi coloured shelves and stock.

As he walked towards the back room he heard murmured voices and he frowned, thinking that obviously Charles was here, too. The excitement of wanting to tell Draco his good news evaporated; it just wasn't the same with him here. Disappointed, he was about to turn around and leave, when he heard something that made his blood boil.

"Oh, Draco, you should leave him."

The voice belonged to bloody Charles Frobisher and he was coming on to his boyfriend! Harry stopped dead, waiting for Draco to put him in his place. There would be no excuse for this, Draco would see that Harry had been right all along and fire him, good name and all.

"And why should I do that, Charles?" Draco replied. Harry caught the undercurrent of impatience in Draco's voice but he was surprised that Draco hadn't just cut him dead.

"Because I would be so much better for you than him. I run your shop for you and we work so well together. We make the perfect couple. Come on, Draco what do you say?" The voice was becoming seductive, cajoling. Harry pursed his lips and clamped his jaw shut lest he let out a loud growl. Come on Draco, put him in his place!

There was silence for a while and Harry just had to see what was happening. Hearing wasn't doing him any good, he had to see Draco's reactions. The silence was ominous though. What if they were kissing? Heart yammering in his chest, Harry inched closer to the door and peered in.

Charles' arm was around Draco's shoulder as Draco was standing in front of a cauldron, stirring it. Charles' head was on Draco's shoulder and Draco wasn't pushing him away! Harry erupted in a loud growl; loud enough that both men heard him and broke apart turning to look at Harry, startled. Harry took enough time to notice the smugness on Charles' face and he wanted, with everything in him, to punch that look off it. Draco had gone pale and still.

"How long were you there for?" Draco asked, shakily.

"Long enough," Harry replied curtly. He turned and left, Flooing home, hurt, betrayal, and anger burning hard inside him.

Draco followed shortly after, though Harry had time to stalk through the flat to the kitchen, yank the fridge open and grab a bottle of beer. Not that he really wanted anything to drink, but he had to do something. He had to put something in his hand to stop himself from punching the nearest wall.

He'd just flung himself down on a chair in the kitchen when Draco arrived. Harry wasn't sure that he wanted to see him; wanted to hear all the excuses or the reasons. Well, he had his answer now about why Draco refused to fire him. God, he felt used; used for his friendship and money and like a fool he'd fallen in love with him. Maybe Draco hadn't really changed all that much from school after all.

"Harry? Where are you?" came Draco's worried voice.

Harry ignored him and just sat in the kitchen, beer on the table now, hands clenched between his thighs and head hung low trying not to scream. Or lash out. Or cry.

He felt rather than heard Draco appear in the doorway, but he didn't look up.

"Any more beer left?" Draco asked, carefully as if he wasn't sure of his reception.

Harry didn't answer, actually found it impossible to even look up at Draco at all. So he didn't. He sat there silently, counting the flecks of colour in the tiles to contain himself.

"Look, it wasn't what it looked like," Draco said, trying again.

That must be the oldest cliché ever, Harry thought, finally unclenching his stomach and sighing. He cleared his throat. "Don't bother with explanations. No need. I guess you've come for your stuff then," he said, shocked at how normal his voice sounded, as if this was a normal situation and Draco was just a friend who was moving out.

"What? No... Do you want me to move out?" Draco sounded shocked and it made Harry look up at him, some small satisfaction in seeing that he was pale and worried.

"I don't suppose what I want matters much," Harry replied.

"If it helps any, I fired him."

Harry shrugged. "Not really."

"Harry," Draco started, moving further into the room and pulling out a chair to sit in front of him. "You can't honestly think I entertained the idea of having a relationship with him."

"You've been saying that since you hired him. But you say one thing and do another. What I saw tonight had gone beyond the boundaries of him flirting with you." Harry was beginning to get angry.

"But I would never have done anything with him," Draco exclaimed.

"You already were," Harry said simply. "I know what I saw, what I heard."

"What did you hear?" Draco demanded hotly. "Tell me what this 'something' was, because I sure as hell didn't see it."

"He had his arm around you and his head on your shoulder, begging you to leave me." Harry started and Draco interrupted.

"And did you see me agree to leave you?"

Harry glared at him. "No, you said nothing. Nothing, Draco. Which would imply to him that you were encouraging him. And seeing that he was so comfortable touching you and you were so comfortable with it too, then you were used to it and things are a lot less platonic than I'd always thought."

Draco shot up out of his chair. "God, you're impossible!" he shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you that I only keep Charles employed - kept him employed - because he was such an asset to my shop. Letting him flirt with me was just my way of making sure he gave me one hundred percent effort."

"That's bullshit, Draco. Complete and utter bullshit!" Harry yelled back at him. "People come to your shop for your potions, not for that smart arsed, jumped up kid! What's the real reason you keep him - kept him - on?"

"That was the real reason, you idiot. Why the fuck would I shag an arse like that when I have you?"

"God." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Stop tying to bloody sweet talk your way out of this one. You kept him on and deliberately led him on. I've been putting up with insults for months from him; telling me you were going to leave me for him, because he could offer you something I never could which was a connection to an esteemed pureblood line. And you won't...you wouldn't..." He stopped and bit his lip, forcing his throat to stop threatening to close on him.

Draco moved to stand right in front of Harry, looking down at him and cupping both cheeks with his hands. "I never realised that he said those things to you," he said gently. "If I'd known that, I'd have fired him long ago."

Harry pushed him away and deliberately did not see his crushed face at the rejection. "But you didn't. It still doesn't change what I saw tonight," he said, raising his chin, defiantly.

"You didn't see anything but some stupid kid who means nothing to me doing something immature. It's just..." Draco raked a hand through his own hair. "It's just how he is, I barely even think about it anymore."

"Why do you let him do it? Why did you let it go so far?" Harry asked.

"Bloody hell! Why are you so upset about this? It's not as if anything happened," Draco said, exasperated. "You're overreacting."

"Oh, right!" Harry yelled, slamming his palm down on the table as he stood face to face with Draco. "I'm overreacting? You're using him and very convincingly, too, if he still hasn't got the hint that you're not interested. You're leading him on to suit your own purposes and I'm overreacting? Are you doing the same thing to me?"

As soon as he said it, Harry realised that he probably shouldn't have. But he couldn't seem to stop himself. "Are you going to wait until the loan is paid off and then leave me because you don't need me anymore? Is that how it works?"

Draco's face went still and he paled to the colour of milk, before his eyes became angry and his face flushed. "How dare you?" he hissed, right before he punched Harry in the face.

Pain exploded in Harry's jaw and the jolt caused him to stagger backwards and his hip caught the edge of the table. Inhaling deep breaths he sat down on the chair heavily and rubbed his sore jaw, which felt it was three times its normal size already.

"Give me a look at that," Draco said roughly, and lifted Harry's jaw.

"Stop it. It's all right," Harry replied crossly. He knew he probably deserved the sock in the jaw.

"I shouldn't have hit you, I'm sorry," Draco said, sounding tired. When Harry looked at him, he was frowning and there was worry in his eyes, like he was still expecting the worst.

"No, I deserved it, I shouldn't have said that."

"So why did you? Is that what you think?"

Harry shook his head and had to stop and blink as a headache was starting alongside the throbbing of his jaw. "I don't think you're using me, I just...feel that by keeping Charles around, you're like...keeping your options open or something. He can't be that much better than anyone else in the shop."

"Harry, I..."

"Is that what you're doing?" Harry asked, deciding he needed to know.

"What? No! I wish I knew where you were getting these stupid ideas. I don't want anyone else, Harry, you imbecile, I want you."

"You have to admit, from where I'm sitting that's not what it looks like," Harry said.

"You've been fine with it up until now. Why, all of a sudden, don't you trust me?"

Good point, Harry thought. It wasn't a question of trust - well, actually, it probably was seeing as he'd jumped to conclusions far too quickly. He'd always trusted Draco before now, why had this affected him so much then?

Because this time, it became as much about what Draco didn't do, as it was about what Charles did do. And this time, he knew he was in love with Draco and witnessing that little scene had managed to trigger his jealousy and doubts.

"I do trust you," Harry protested. "And I haven't been fine with it at all. I've just kept telling myself to trust you and that it was your shop and you should know what's best. But even you can't deny that if our positions were reversed you wouldn't be angry and upset."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'even me'?"

"Well you're the one who says that emotion is too messy and selfless. Which was one of the reasons you were single by choice I might add." Harry pointed out.

"And if you remember, though you are so busy feeling hard done by that it's understandable if you've forgotten, that we got together because I was jealous thinking that you still had some feelings left for Ginny," Draco said coolly. "Which seems to indicate to me - correct me if I am wrong - that feelings might have been involved right from the start. Wouldn't you agree?" Draco finished on a sarcastic note.

Oh, shit. Had he been that blind?

"Are there, then?" he ventured.

Draco growled and shot to his feet. "For God's sake, Potter, you are the most oblivious man I've ever met! Yes! I. Am. In. Love. With. You. Can I spell it out any clearer than that?"

Harry met Draco's anxious yet exasperated eyes, hardly daring to breathe lest he say the wrong thing and ruin the whole moment. Not that in the middle of an argument was a brilliant moment to find out that the man you love is in love with you in return.

Oh, who was he kidding? It was the most brilliant fucking moment in the history of moments.

For all of ten seconds and then the world came crashing down around his ears and eyes and heart.

Draco wasn't supposed to fall in love with him. Harry had justified part of this by thinking that Draco wasn't going to fall in love with him and so wouldn't suffer the double loss of friend and love. Luna was right, though, now he'd suffer doubly. He should finish it right here and now. Lie and tell Draco it was over. Break his own heart in the meantime, but end it.

The seconds were counting down and Harry was sure that his uncertainty and desperation were showing in his eyes and he looked away for a second, blinking...and everything seemed to proceed in slow motion, his blink took a millennia longer than it should have. And in that second Harry decided that no, the damage was done, whatever grief Draco was going to suffer now wasn't going to change if he broke it off.

He was going to hang on to Draco until he just couldn't anymore. He was going to experience the most searched after thing in all mankind. How could he ever have thought of giving up love? It was his strength after all.

A smile broke out on his face as he lifted his eyes back to Draco's. "Good," he said, heart bounding in leaps of joy now. "I love you, too."

"God, come here, you," Draco said, pulling him up and into his arms. "I knew that; have known it for weeks, actually." He smirked. "You have always worn your heart on your sleeve, Potter. You ought to be more careful about that; someone might steal it."

Harry laughed and kissed him. "Someone already did."

"You big sap," he said, wrapping his arms around Harry and resting his head on Harry's shoulder. "Too bad you folded on that bet with Hermione," Draco said. "You'd have won otherwise, as I don't intend to let you go, ever."

The bet. God, he'd forgotten about that. He laughed. "Well if truth be told, I think she might have been expecting me to win the bet."

"How so?"

"Luna tells me that every single one of our friends have known how we feel about each other for years. They were just waiting for us to get over ourselves and see it, too."

Draco huffed and looked up, horrified. "I'll have you know that I am not that obvious."

Harry kissed him again. "We must be. Ever wonder why our friends never set us up on dates with other people?"

"Oh." Draco sighed. "Can we forget all about Charles Frobisher now?"

Harry nodded, contrite about making such a big deal, though when all was said and done, things had turned out incredibly well. Even if he was going to have a bruised jaw tomorrow to show for it.

***

Draco was as excited about the Quidditch match as Harry had been and he offered to play if Harry could find a spot for him.

"Of course. You're going to be my Reserve Seeker," he said, smiling proudly.

"But aren't you playing?" Draco asked, shocked.

Harry shook his head. "Nope. I'm coaching," he said. He actually doubted that he'd still be around to coach and in any case, players the standard of the ones he'd chosen wouldn't need coaching, a decent captain would be enough to work out strategies. Just like back in school.

"You're giving up a chance to play Quidditch back at Hogwarts?" Draco asked, disbelieving.

"I'm coaching, I told you. Plus I'm organising the thing, so I don't intend on playing as well."

"You'd get so many more people coming to watch if the Chosen One was playing," Draco insisted.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, they don't know me for playing Quidditch but they do know the others I've signed up, and if the Harpies don't release Ginny for the game I want you playing Seeker."

Draco moved closer and slid his arm across Harry, snuggling into his chest, making Harry feel warm and contented as he kissed the top of the blond head.

"All right, I'll play," Draco said, as if he were doing Harry a favour and hadn't actually offered to play in the first place. Harry smiled; the peaceful Sunday evening quiet a blessing after the emotional upheaval earlier.

"Did you have anything special planned for tomorrow?" Draco asked.

"Well, I assumed you'd be working. Even more now that you fired Charles," Harry said. "Why?"

"Valentine's Day. Wasn't sure if you wanted to do something special for it or not," Draco replied dreamily, and then pinched Harry's waist. "And you can come in to help me in the shop tomorrow, seeing as I am minus one shop assistant."

"Bully," Harry said affectionately, even though he flinched. "How about we go to Mario's for dinner? I've been promising to take you to meet him properly for ages."

"Where I'll get the once over, I assume," Draco replied and Harry knew he was rolling his eyes.

"Probably, though he's already met you and he likes you because you appreciate good pasta," Harry said, smiling.

"Fine, we'll eat at Mario's and I shall impress him and make sure he knows that I'm looking after his Harry," Draco said, kissing the words into Harry's chest.

***

"Mario!" greeted Harry the next evening as he escorted Draco into the restaurant. Luckily, Mario had excused himself from the kitchen and was greeting guests when they arrived. Mario beamed a warm welcome to both of them and pulled Harry in for a gruff hug.

"Harry. Welcome, welcome," he said, his round face creased in pleasure. Harry pulled back after a few moments, smiling.

"You remember Draco?" he said, turning towards Draco who was also smiling, if a little nervously. Not that it was obvious he was nervous; Draco wouldn't show that to anyone, except Harry knew him too well and knew that there was some anxiety in meeting Mario. Draco wanting to impress Mario was touching, actually, and he slipped his arm around Draco's waist, proudly.

"This is the man who puts such a smile on Harry's face." Mario beamed and hugged Draco as well. When he let him go, Draco turned to Harry and smiled.

"And what a gorgeous smile it is, too," Mario said, giving Harry a wink. Harry promptly blushed and had to endure both Mario and Draco teasing him about it until they were seated at their table.

"You boys have a lovely romantic dinner. I'll come out and speak to you later," Mario said, handing them menus and leaving.

Draco turned to Harry. "This is a great table, Harry. You were lucky to be able to get it on such short notice. Especially being Valentine's Day."

"Draco," Harry said, leaning close to him. "This is my table. Mario always puts me here when I eat. It's nice and private and he looks after me."

"He must really like you," Draco beamed, and then a small frown creased his brow. "What if he doesn't like me?"

Harry couldn't resist teasing. "Then you might end up wearing concrete shoes," he said, grinning at Draco's completely lost look. "Doesn't matter," he said, waving away the comment. "Of course he'll like you. He knows I do and he's seen how happy I am. You have nothing to worry about." He placed his hand over Draco's and squeezed it gently. Draco hooked his little finger around Harry's and smiled back.

Julian came over to take their order, bringing with him a spray of roses in a glass vase, which he placed on the table. "Compliments to the lovebirds," he said, grinning.

Draco laughed back and held out his hand. "You must be Julian. I don't think we met properly last time I was here. I'm Draco."

Julian shook his hand. "Of course you are. You're the blond that was all over Harry at his birthday."

That made Harry laugh. "Hardly."

"Oh, I tried, Harry." Draco pouted. "You were too busy to notice me." Harry could see the amusement in his eyes, though.

"There was a lot going on that night," Julian said. "How long have you two been together?"

"A few months," Draco said. "I made sure he noticed me, eventually. And I don't plan on ever letting him stop noticing me." There was such a husky quality in Draco's voice that Harry could quite easily have just Apparated home, shoved him down on the bed and made it very clear exactly what he noticed.

Julian laughed and swooned theatrically and then Draco ordered his meal, a smug grin on his face. Julian flashed Harry an approving nod as he took Harry's order and then disappeared, leaving the two of them alone.

"He's taken with you as well." Harry smiled.

"Two down, a few more to go," Draco replied, smiling back though still not completely convinced.

"Hey, what are you worried about? How can they not love you? I do. And all they want is for me to be happy." Harry leant over and kissed him gently on the lips. "And if you keep talking like you did to Julian I might need to cast a privacy spell and fuck you right here on the table."

A raised eyebrow and a daring smirk were the only responses he got from Draco about that; both of them knew Harry wouldn't dare do that in Mario's restaurant. Before they knew it the wine and meals had arrived and they spent the rest of the evening chatting about Harry's day working in the shop, organising a dinner party for their friends, and Harry's book, which he still wouldn't let Draco read. Obviously. And then Harry bought up something he later wished he'd raised much earlier.

"Have you heard from your mother recently?" Harry asked. He'd been thinking about Teddy and maybe visiting France and seeing how the boy was doing while he still could. One thought had led to the other.

Draco shook his head. "No, I haven't. But that doesn't surprise me. We've barely spoken since father died." He was frowning, a look that could pass for regret on his face.

"Why's that?" Harry asked, putting down his glass of wine.

"I'm not sure. I don't know if it is because I look like him and she can't stand to be reminded or if I have disappointed her by being gay or trying to work to earn a living or what it is."

Harry didn't answer for a while, watching Draco thoughtfully. "Maybe she doesn't like you to see her reduced to living off Andromeda. Maybe she feels guilty because she can't provide for you."

"I'm twenty five years old, she doesn't need to provide for me," Draco argued.

"Yes, but from her point of view, the Malfoy estate was to be yours and you'd have been well looked after for the rest of your life. It must be hard to see all that disappear leaving you financially destitute."

"Well, I hope she's happy with Andromeda anyway," Draco said.

"Does she know about us?"

"I wouldn't know, Harry, I haven't been in contact with her. I assume she probably read it same as we did. If she gets the Prophet over there, that is."

Right, that made sense. He opened his mouth to say something more but Draco interrupted him.

"Do you mind if we change the subject? I'd rather deal with my problems with my mother at a later time."

Harry nodded and changed the subject, moving on to Quidditch and when the next scratch match would be and wondering if they could have some of the Wheezes products on standby in case Corner and his mates started up again.

At different times during the evening Mario came out and had a quick chat with them, once bringing his camera and taking a photo of them both. He actually took more than one and decided that the best one would be adorning his 'well fed' wall. Draco looked confused and Mario hastened to explain.

"I have a wall where I pin photos of all my best customers. The ones I consider 'well fed' because they keep coming back. They're the ones that are important; the ones that keep this place going. This restaurant is my life and all my customers are important, but the ones that come back mean I've fulfilled my calling and fed them well."

"Is Harry already up there?" Draco asked, smiling, interested.

"Harry is up there more than once. You want see?"

Draco nodded, rose and followed Mario to the wall where hundreds of photos were pinned to what looked like a huge corkboard. Harry went along too and stood quietly beside Draco, holding his hand as Mario searched through the pictures and found the ones of Harry that had been taken at different stages over the last few years. He hadn't changed much, but he did notice that he had lost weight around his face. Luckily he still looked healthy and didn't have an ill pallor but he knew he'd changed.

They spent a short time perusing the pictures, Mario pointing out some famous Muggle celebrities, while Draco just returned a blank look at the names. Janet wandered past and batted her eyelashes at Harry and playfully cutting her eyes to Draco. Harry pretended to swat her arse and introduced them.

"Draco. Nice to meet you." She smiled cheerfully. "I hope you look after Harry, here, he's become pretty important to us and we'd hate to see him hurt."

Draco nodded and opened his mouth to say something but Harry interrupted. "What is it with you and Mario threatening him? I'm quite capable of looking after myself, you know."

"Harry, they care about you and what happens to you. It's all right, you've become really special to me, too and I have no intentions of hurting you, ever." Draco said what Janet and Mario needed to hear as well as what Harry loved to hear.

The rest of the meal passed pleasantly, Mario having hired a violinist for the evening set aside specifically for lovers. Harry sat beside Draco, their hands entwined as they listened to the stirring melodies surrounding them. Harry was more interested in the blond beside him than the music coming from a talented musician and therefore most of his time was actually spent gazing at the profile of his boyfriend and letting himself experience the pleasure. When Draco caught him, he'd smile a slow smile, unguarded and honest.

Something profound settled in Harry's chest when Draco looked at him like that. Something permanent and solid that felt like he suddenly had all the answers to the universe closed itself around him and became an integral part of his soul.

And the aching beat in his heart reminded him that no matter what he felt, it was not permanent. It would never be permanent.

When they'd finished dinner, said their goodbyes and offered thanks to Mario and the staff, Harry felt like walking for a little while before they Apparated home. Despite it being cold, neither of them really wanted the night to end.

Wrapped in their cloaks, they walked arm in arm, Draco's head resting on Harry's shoulder occasionally, and neither of them feeling the cold at all.

"Thank you for bringing me here tonight, Harry," Draco said. "I had a lovely evening."

"I've wanted you to meet Mario and the others properly for ages and tonight seemed the perfect night for it." He loved how warm Draco was pressed up against his side. How he seemed to meld to fit every one of Harry's curves. How even their steps on the wet cobblestones of the street synchronised to sound like there was only one person walking down the street.

"You know, I feel fabulous," Draco said, sighing happily. "We should have done this years ago," he said.

"Eaten at Mario's?" Harry teased, knowing full well that wasn't what Draco had meant.

"Idiot," Draco said, nudging Harry with his elbow and making Harry sway a little, off balance. "I meant date, have a relationship, live together, fall in love, whatever you want to call it."

Harry was silent for a while, unable to voice the sudden realisation that Draco was probably right and instead of this short time, he could have had years of feeling this good. Years. It had taken them a long time to get past their childhoods. Both of them. And it had taken longer to form a friendship.

In the end, all he did was remove his arm from Draco's grip and wrap it around his shoulder instead, pulling him even closer and kissing him on the forehead.

"I can't remember ever being this happy before, Harry," Draco said, smiling up at him.

"Me, either," Harry whispered around the lump in his throat.

"Take me home, Mr. Potter, and make love to me," Draco said, smiling broadly as he leant up and kissed Harry's jaw.

"Anything for you, my love," Harry replied before Apparating them both back home.