My Own

Episode 2

Pillow Talk

Draco woke smelling of grass, chocolate pudding, and of Harry. Ah, yes Harry. The man held him carefully throughout the night to make sure that Draco didn't drown while he slept. Strangely, the small lake was still comfortably hot. Draco sleepily lifted one of his hands to see that he had turned all wrinkly. Damn it. He lifted Harry's hand with the hand that he just inspected. Nothing wrinkly, not even in the process of doing so. Lucky bastard. Draco vaguely wondered if Harry's skin carried some sort of repel in it against water trying to wrinkle him up. Did his skin talk to the water and say, "You can't wrinkle us, I just won't stand for it because it isn't fair to Harry. You know he's the bloody hero who saved the world." Those damn Gryffindors and pride, bravery, and all that rubbish. Harry's skin probably heroically protects him from a very wrinkly death, while mines just shrugs callously and says 'Eh, he's a mean git anyway, why should we protect him? I rather like being wrinkly.'

Draco frowned at himself and wondered why he'd even contemplate the possibility of skin fending off liquid substances. Of skin conversing with the elements. Of skin talking, period. Draco looked around quickly. Merlin's beard! Did Harry slip something in his pudding or something?

Draco fidgeted, and Harry moaned sleepily. Draco feels uncomfortable having sex wrinkly, so he tries to get up, only to have Harry instinctively wrap his arm around Draco's trim waist and pull him back down. Draco had to admit that the water and Harry did feel quite comfortable, but he was wrinkly. Grand ma wrinkled. Eww.

"Potter," said Draco, nudging Harry's cheek with his pointy nose. "I have to get up."

Harry grunted and tightened his hold. Never followed instructions his whole life, why start now? Draco thought sarcastically. He squirmed but Harry just kept his hold firm and even nuzzled Draco's neck. He flicks a tongue out at Draco's neck that causes tremors in Draco. Suddenly, Draco panics, and ridiculously thinks, we shall not have wrinkly sex! Make up an excuse, thought Draco, to get up.

Harry mumbled but it sounded more like a chuckle.

"I have to use the toilet," lied Draco, squirming around. "Unless you want me piss on you."

Harry laughed throatily, which unhinged Draco. "No you don't," he said confidently. "You said you don't want to have wrinkly sex." Draco didn't even remember saying that out loud, but most obviously, he did. Harry laughs louder and more clearly.

Draco felt more embarrassed than anything and flushed even deeper than he already was from the heat of the water. He could feel and hear Harry virtually cackling with mirth. Cackling, not laughing. Even the water and his skin were cackling at him. I must be on something. The shudders didn't die down until some time later.

Draco's face was hot and he decided that Potter's getting his revenge. For all the things I did to him in school, all the times I laughed at him, for all the times I tried to hex him. Of course, he would never retaliate in such a way, but he would sit here and laugh, like the Gryffindor he is, slowly torturing me. Yes, it makes perfect sense, he would make sure all the animosity died down, and get me when I least expected it. He would kill me with his pure goodness; he wouldn't have to touch or hex me. It's all a conspiracy and I bet Granger and Weasley are in on it. I wouldn't be surprised if 'Hell Bitch' (Delinda) and 'Dumb Hercules' (Carlo) were in on it too. A fucking conspiracy theory, but I bet I'm right. All of them are out to get me for being such an arrogant twit when I was younger. Draco's thoughts are viciously paranoid and insecure, completely uncharacteristic. Probably MAB: Morning After Bitchiness.

"Are you done?" snapped Draco.

This, however, brought on a new vigorous fit of giggles. He sounded like he's eleven years old again. Rolling his eyes at Harry's immaturity, Draco attempted to get up again, only to be stopped once more by Harry reaching out and holding him still to suck upon his neck. Draco felt the pang of arousal shoot straight to his penis and then spread leisurely throughout his limbs. He started to relax until realised that he's still all wrinkly.

"Get off me!" yelped Draco, frantically pushing Harry away. He had a bad experience with wrinkled skin and he wouldn't care to relive it again or even begin to associate it with Harry and intimacy. Even though... it is his wrinkly skin and not Harry's. Precisely the reason why he never stayed submerged in water for too long.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry worriedly. He let Draco go though and Draco could feel his eyes on the back of his blond head.

"Bad experience," muttered Draco, who put on his wonderfully pink, terry bathrobe. He doesn't even bother to turn around to look at Harry when Harry says, "That bad?"

Draco curtly nodded and quickly steps inside the house without glancing back at the bewildered Harry.

*

Looking at himself thoroughly, Draco is glad there isn't any trace of wrinkles. Then again, he thought embarrassedly, I acted like a vain idiot back there with Harry. But then again, he doesn't exactly know what Lucius put me through years ago. Personally, I'd prefer to keep it that way. He doesn't know where all these thoughts are coming from lately, he assumes it's stress. Draco puts citrus scented lotion all over himself before putting on his underclothes with plain slate trousers and a white plain shirt. Draco slid into his loafers and feels like an old perv who just invited a 'talented student' to his house for a 'mature discussion' on the class's topic. All he was missing was a cigar, a dirty old man robe with atrociously huge rings, and a devious smile.

Draco smirked at his clearly, ludicrous thoughts, and wandered into the kitchen by the bedroom doorway. He didn't see Harry there and looked in the living room to find that void of Harry as well. Draco walked into the living room and didn't see him in the den or the sizeable extra bathroom just opposite of it. He turned toward the veranda and saw him.

Harry was perched on the railing clearly in pensive mode. Draco called it mode, because Harry could be like that for the rest of the day. Harry was barely covered in his pale blue dressing gown; Draco could see Harry's lean legs, elegant feet, well-formed arms and chest, and the little patch of dark hair at his crotch. Harry's ebony hair was cowlicking pleasantly- in every direction, which gave Draco the distinct urge to flatten every strand. He really needs to get that hair cut or something, thought Draco vaguely.

He walked to the veranda and looked out at the garden. So many different flowers, he didn't even know what half of them were. Neville Longbottom discovered his niche for Herbology years ago, and now made it his profession. Many people who were wealthy or middle class would boast if they had their courtyards, or any part of their property furnished with Neville's work. He also made it a point to find new species of plants and find other uses for those already known. Draco's magazine promoted him with advertisements, even though he didn't really need it. Neville had a place in almost every wizarding magazine, newspaper, and book. He was famous.

Not surprising, thought Draco looking around. Neville said that he and Harry were practically night and day, so he made the garden that way. There was a stone sign that was firmly planted in the dirt that said 'You Are Now Entering Ying/Yang'. Neville especially trained people who showed promise for plants and their many uses, but it was a great honour when Neville, Mr. Big Shot Longbottom, personally attended to you.

Harry's side had flowers of soft hue that transitioned into lively colours. The subtle blues, lavender, pink that turned into passion red, dull orange and then misty purple. One species of Harry's flowers called Gisele, were long stemmed with feather shaped petals and bent over whenever someone was near to tickled them mercilessly. Mischievous little flowers, thought Draco.

Draco looked at his side and smirked; Neville had obviously tried to convey their personalities in their respective sides. It was clear that Neville had thought him very eccentric or at least that's what Draco thought his flowers reflected. His flowers ranged from black roses streaked with red and pink to Afrisia (a flower with a little sprout in the centre of a mound with large spongy petals that droop to the ground) sky blue with faint orange spots. Nevertheless, he liked his side, nothing looked out of place. In fact, it looked very organised and even though some of them should've, none of the colours or species seemed to clash with other each other. Draco had his little special flower too, which happened to be the Afrisia. It was just as mischievous as Harry's Giseles, but in a different way. The little sprout in the middle sprayed an aphrodisiac like substance whenever someone came near one of its long petals. He and Harry made love one night underneath it, to discover that the petals groped unsuspected bystanders as well. Harry was mortified; liking their privacy very much, while Draco thought it was pleasurably kinky.

An unconstrained snicker escaped him that made Harry look up at him. The expression Draco saw was startlingly meditative and concentrated, and then he remembered that they had not finished their conversation last night. They had got wrapped up in pudding. Harry-pudding. The memory made him blush and he saw Harry smile slightly.

"So what are you doing out here?" asked Draco, sitting on the flat white wooden swing, facing opposite of Harry.

"Thinking," replied Harry, looking off wistfully. "Relaxing, enjoying the pleasant scents pampering my nose." He scrunched his nose up and Draco thought it was a cute, but juvenile crinkle. Yes, Harry was really thinking.

"About children right?" coaxed Draco, sensing that Harry hinted as much.

"Shush," whispered Harry, putting his fingers to his lips. "I said save it for pillow talk, remember?"

Draco nodded his headed confusedly, wondering what Harry meant by that. He's been cryptic and pensive lately, but Draco assumed that was due to the brush with death, again. Nevertheless, they had to talk about it eventually and soon Draco would have to go to work for that meeting. He really didn't feel like it, he wanted to indulge in Harry-pudding today. Harry smiled slowly, and Draco felt a slight tingle of arousal assault him unexpectedly. Last night wasn't easily forgotten by a long shot. Not with all that pudding and all that Harry and that bloody stare.

Harry levitated some of their cotton fluffy pillows from out of their bedroom and put them in the garden. The pillows were large and one of them got stuck in the doorway- Harry smirked at Draco, and then pulled the pillow out of the doorway forcefully to cuff Draco in his head. Draco rubbed the side of head in mock indignation and shot Harry a scowl. Draco wished he had his wand; he'd hex Harry just to laugh. Harry grinned widely and Draco's venom dissipated quickly; those smiles always made Draco feel warm. Maybe it was because it was genuine and not tainted.

Harry got up and held his hand out in invitation, which Draco took suavely and proceeded to descend the stone steps to Draco's side of the garden. They stood in front of the blue orange-spotted perverted flowers. Draco quirked an eyebrow and Harry slowly divested him of his clothes. The actions were deliberate when Harry skimmed his fingers across Draco's skin. Draco tried his best not to squirm from Harry's touch. He noticed that the Afrisias were slightly moving in awareness towards them. The combination of both would be explosive, and Draco's skin bristled in anticipation.

When Harry helped him out his boxers, Draco noted the same intense stare of that look again. The look was as though Harry had missed something in Draco all the years they had known each other, and now that he's found it, he needed it to live. Draco wondered what happened, what changed? Sure, they decided to have children, but there must be something more to that stare. Hmm, Draco figured he would have to find inconspicuous way to find out what Harry found so fascinating suddenly.

Harry slid seductively out of his dressing gown, which Draco was convinced he learned from him. He strolled lazily over to Draco, and this time, Draco was sure that Harry was intentionally imitating him. It jostled Draco just somewhat. He knew his technique was flawless and provided the person with multiple orgasms. Yet, Draco wasn't exactly sure whether he wanted his flawless Malfoy technique brought down on him. He and Harry always had great sexual experiences and he enjoyed them fully every time. Draco, however, always had managed to make Harry orgasm numerous times, while Harry always gave him a single earth shattering one. Harry would always say afterwards that he would get Draco some day and on that day, Draco would weep with pleasure.

Draco trembled from Harry's close presence. Harry kissed him lightly on lips and gestured towards the pillows that were right underneath the Afrisias.

Draco looked curiously at Harry. "What, no blankets this time?" Harry smiled crookedly and led him over the spot where the Afrisias were already sniffing (Draco wasn't sure if flowers could sniff, but he was sure these ones could) them in interest.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and leaned towards as if to kiss him but didn't. It was that stare again, and Draco felt his hard on brushing Harry's own obvious arousal. One of Harry's hands came up beside Draco's face and began to stroke his cheek tenderly, trembling ever so slightly once in a while. Draco could feel the emotion emitting from Harry and see it on his face. Soon enough, even Draco could feel this strange emotion as well, as if he knew what they were feeling and both of them had reached an understanding.

Tears unshed shimmered in Harry's eyes and Draco's as they desperately clung to each other. "This is for real, isn't it?" asked Harry, a little hoarse. "No more looking over our shoulders for Voldemort, Lucius, or any angry anti-gay political group throwing flaming bricks through our windows. No one to shatter us. No Snape to take points for us being hopelessly in love." They both chuckled. "Just us."

Draco nodded demurely, looking into those twinkling glossy emerald eyes. Harry swallowed and blinked back the tears.

"You're pathetic, Potter," said Draco, without conviction. He tried blinking back his own tears that Harry already wiped away. Damn Gryffindors, so emotional.

"You're with me, so you're worse off."

"What would you do without me? Probably go off on some brooding harebrained scheme."

Harry chuckled into his hair. He smelled like Harry; pudding, musty sweat, and love. Draco sniffed appreciatory at Harry's neck.

"You would go with me. You'd follow me," said Harry, still rubbing his face into Draco's hair.

"To the ends of the earth," finished Draco, promptly without hesitation.

Suddenly, Draco felt something spray him and then his skin tingled. He felt so warm, so sexy, and Harry was holding him, who was also warm and bloody sexy. Damn aphrodisiac, thought Draco moodily. He was the one who wanted to get Harry randy. Draco then felt the petal touching, or more like, feeling up his calves, and naturally lay under the spray. Under Harry. Draco noted vaguely that that stare came back in full force and felt his penis rubbing Harry's stomach leaving trails of pre-come along the tanned rippled surface.

Draco was aware of the sexy man over him, the tingling spray, his pulsing erection, the petals making their rounds on him and Harry. He was so aware of everything. Probably results of that damn spray. Harry's hands were on the green pillows on either side of Draco's head, which happened to rest on the red pillow. He's so fucking sexy. Hell, we're both sexy. Harry slid up his body and grinded against him making Draco gasp. Everything was slick and sticky at the same time. Everything was so fucking arousing, Draco could barely keep his focus on one thing. Nevertheless, Harry made a very tasty and satisfying thing to focus on. Draco felt the petals on him; they felt like big soft sticky tongues licking him. Harry knew what he was thinking when he chose this spot, thought Draco, happily kissing said Harry on his nose.

*

Draco and Harry lay back in the middle of the garden. They had to crawl away from those nympho Afrisias. Actually, Harry had to half-heartedly drag Draco because he had succeeded in giving Draco multiple orgasms that resulted in turning Draco into a human pudding. Draco's flushed while Harry kept saying, "I told you so. Draco-pudding."

Draco could feel the tingle of the numbness fading away from his body. They managed to grab the red pillow the Afrisias weren't molesting, so they sat back sharing it. He felt so drained, as if he could lay here forever in the Garden of Eden. He wanted to sleep but he had a meeting to conduct in an hour or so probably. I don't want to, whined Draco's inner child. He sighed.

"I cancelled it when you were dressing," yawned Harry, snuggling closer to him. Draco was puzzled.

"How'd you know?" inquired Draco. Sometimes, Draco could swear Dumbledore gave Harry some of his 'psychic' powers.

"Sharky sent an owl asking whether you still wanted to go through with the meeting," replied Harry casually. "I knew you'd be staying here today, so I told him to reschedule it."

Draco felt a little uncomfortable for a second. "You could've consulted me, you know."

"You were still freaking out over your wrinkly situation."

"Oh." Draco was stunned and knew Harry was the type who really wouldn't crowd him if he were freaking out. He wouldn't say anything unless he thought it was serious. Draco chuckled with Harry and silently praised his lover for knowing him so well. But still, he wished he said something, even though it would've been through the door.

They both relaxed as the smells of sex, grass, and fruity aphrodisiac flowed throughout the air. Draco wanted to sleep so much, but he wanted to enjoy this subtle peace as well. He yawned.

"Send Neville a Thank-You-Very-Much-Gift for the Sexy-Kinky-Flowers," said Draco sleepily, warily eyeing the flowers that were still salivating over the two green pillows. He drifted off to sleep as Harry muttered, "Mmm hmm."

~*~

Harry had accio-ed a blanket before he fell asleep beside Draco. He snuggled closer enjoying the citrusy smells Draco had. He inhaled his lover's smell deeply and shifted back with a sated sigh. Draco always smelt wonderful; Harry didn't know how he managed it. It was as though he walked around with shower and bath essentials all the time.

Harry rolled over, propped himself on his elbows, and looked down at his fair lover. The sun was high over the sky now, and shined against Draco's pale face and light hair. He looked like an angel, but Harry knew better. The darkness Lucius and Voldemort instilled in Draco had almost consumed him when he was barely eighteen. Harry, at the time, didn't know how he managed to pull Draco through the darkness when Draco couldn't find his way to the light. He found out two years later that he pulled Draco through the darkness because Harry was his light. He smiled at his results: a happy, sated, haughty Draco Malfoy.

Harry thought his musings must have been loud because on cue, Draco cracked an eye open to reveal a silvery-grey iris. He then opened both eyes tiredly and stared at Harry irritated.

"You hair is incorrigible," he drawled. So dramatic, even when drooling, and looking thoroughly shagged. Harry rolled his eyes as Draco sat up.

Harry saw Draco glancing at his Afrisias. Harry looked too to discover the pillows were tossed aside and looked very sticky. Flower come. Harry laughed.

"What?" asked Draco, an amused eyebrow raised.

"Flower come," answered Harry, still laughing.

He could see Draco shuddering with the giggles. "Flower come?" repeated Draco incredulously, trying hard not to giggle, and failing miserably. They both laughed until their sides hurt and tears streamed from their eyes.

"Where do you get that sick shit from, Potter?" teased Draco. "And I'm supposed to be the perverted one? Yeah, right."

Harry laughed at him and sobered some minutes later. He heard the birds and insects (outside the garden because some could ruin certain flowers and because Draco was terrified of them), so he lay back, and enjoyed the warm beam from the sun.

"About children," said Harry, disturbing the still silence.

"About that," answered Draco, with his arms behind his head.

"What adoption agencies are we going to?"

"Adoption agency?" repeated Draco, sitting up, looking at Harry confused. Of course, spoke Harry's mind, you said you wanted children. And, you said you weren't joking.

"Yes, you ninny," retorted Harry, raising himself up on his elbow facing Draco. "You said you wanted children."

Draco wore befuddlement rarely so Harry always enjoyed it while it was there. Suddenly, it changed into realisation, then smug amusement. Draco laughed at Harry. Now Harry wore befuddlement and, unfortunately, felt natural doing so. It made him annoyed that Draco always found some cunning way to make him befuddled.

"I want our children to look like us," said Draco, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Well, I reckon we'll just have to find children with our likeness," replied Harry carefully, not knowing where this was going. He had a bad feeling... that he was about to be made a fool.

Draco sniggered and said, "What about a messy blonde-haired child with emerald eyes?"

"Hell, we'd probably have to procreate to have a child like that."

"Exactly."

"Huh?" Harry was now thoroughly befuddled. What was Draco talking about? "What do you mean?"

Draco looked at him as though he were just a small child. Snooty bastard, thought Harry annoyed. He rolled his eyes and looked at him. Crossing his arms he said, "How do you suppose we do that? Get pregnant?" Harry laughed at his own joke.

"Exactly," replied Draco mischievously.

Harry choked. Was Harry hearing correctly or did he just imagine that? "What'd you say?"

Draco patted his head. "It's all right, I know thinking too much makes your head hurt. I'll explain it to you." Harry scowled at him. Draco sat up facing him. "Harry, you don't really think wizards and witches haven't thought of a way to procreate between same sex couples, did you?" Harry blinked. Draco raised an eyebrow. Bloody Slytherin. "Obviously you did."

Draco shook his head and it made Harry feel ridiculously stupid. "You should read other things than Quidditch Today and the Sports section of that Muggle newspaper." Harry felt even worse. "I was reading The Wizard Medical Times, and I came across an article that said there was a way for couples to have children with roles reversed. A married couple where the wife always had the children now changed into husband having the babies. It's spectacular. A potion that the couple takes changes them into the opposite sex. Wonderful, isn't it?"

Harry wondered what he would look like as girl. Would he get fat, would he have small or large breasts or full lips? What would that look like down there? Would he have PMS? Would he make an ugly female? Would his hair get longer? He unconsciously fingered a wild tress.

"Harry, stop fantasising about being a woman," drawled Draco, rolling his eyes. How could he always read his mind? Strange, when it was Harry's mind trained in Legilimency and Occlumency. However, he never abused his power, of course. "I can read your mind because your emotions are always on your face, Potter. Didn't Snape teach you anything?" Harry scowled at him but he knew Draco was just teasing.

"If wanted, I could read your mind easily," replied Harry confidently. He really could, if he wanted.

"But I know the Gryffindor in you wouldn't let you," scoffed Draco. Harry frowned. "See, I knew it." He arranged the blanket around himself, and Harry wondered how he could always be so organised. "Anyway, there are three clinics in Britain, one in Scotland, two in Canada, and five in the States. Merlin knows what they get up to. I suggest we try the clinics here before going overseas, even though I don't know why we would even have to. They're pricey, of course, but I know we can afford it. After one of us changes and haves the baby, we can change back. The potion changes us into what we would've been like if we were the opposite sex, so if you became female, you might not have that mess atop of your head." Draco critically eyed his dark locks.

Harry looked up self-consciously at his bangs hanging around his forehead. "So when do you want to go?"

"We have to decide which one of us is willing to become a woman first," said Draco reasonably.

"Well, it can't be me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm supposed to be recovering. Remember?"

Draco glared at him. "I don't want woman parts." Harry almost laughed.

"But you want a child," replied Harry disdainfully, eyebrows raised.

Draco seemed to consider this for a moment and sighed. "This is not decided, all right?" Harry nodded, even though he knew Draco would probably be the one with woman parts. You're caving and I know it, thought Harry merrily. "Nothing is final." Draco pointed out fiercely.

"I know, I know. I said naught."

"You didn't have to," said Draco, looking disgustedly at him. "You make me sick."

"You love me, though."

"Sometimes, I wonder why and how."

"I reckon, you know-"

"Shut it, Potter."

"Shutting." Harry motioned zipping his mouth shut.

*

Every night after work, Draco and Harry would snuggle in the bed in front of the telly and talk of baby names. They hadn't got anywhere, they were constantly debating why this or that was better. Tonight seemed more light-hearted than the previous nights.

"What if it's a girl? We can't name her Draca or Draculia."

Draco sarcastically glared at Harry. "Why not Draca? And Draculia sounds too vamipirish. We can't name her Harryfina or Harrietta, but I could call you that when you grow woman parts." He snickered as Harry wrestled him to the floor. They both leaned back against the bed.

"Well, if it's a boy, we can call him Harry Jr.," said Harry, stretching.

"Why would he get your name instead of mine?" huffed Draco.

"Because I'm the man," said Harry, pointing to his chest, "and you're Jane." Harry pointed to Draco's chest and imaginary boobs. "Boys get manly names, and you would be a woman at the time anyway."

"You think Draco isn't a manly name?" Humph, Draco was a damn good name. It was his name; of course, it was a bloody good name.

"Isn't it short for dragon or some shit like that?" said Harry, acting as if he wasn't sure.

Draco got up and Harry bolted. Draco chased Harry and lost him somewhere between the bathroom and the den. "Damn it," muttered Draco. He'd been damning a lot of things lately, but couldn't help it.

"Rrrraaaahhhh!" Harry jumped from behind the sofa and grabbed Draco. They swayed dangerously and winded up falling in a heap in front of the den's doorway. Draco was on his back while Harry leaned on his side.

"How about Bob?" joked Harry. At least, Draco hoped he was joking.

"There would be no power on earth, in heaven or hell to help you if you name one of my children that."

Harry laughed loudly. "Right. How bout Arlene?"

Draco snorted. "Sounds like some inbred country bumpkin from America."

"You should talk about inbred," chuckled Harry. "Most purebloods are inbred." How dare he? Even though Draco knew it was probably true...

"Are you implying anything?" Draco grimaced at him.

"No, sir."

"Then get on with it."

"Right. Hmm," Harry put his finger to his nose thoughtfully. "What about Jacquelyn?"

Draco considered and thought that he liked it. He loved it, in fact. "Yes, I do like that very much. Now about if it's a boy."

"Hmm, Tresselle," laughed Harry. "I'm just joking."

Draco sort of liked that. "Tresselle sounds more masculine than feminine."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "Hell hath no fury like me. Hell no," sniffed Harry. "It sounds like a girly name."

"It does not," snapped Draco, glaring at him. "Malfoys know about names, that's why we're unique."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Lucius could translate into luscious."

Draco looked at him in horror. "I do not need that analogy in my head."

"All right, all right," relented Harry, grinning madly. "How about a bubble bath?"

Draco smiled. "You wanna race?" He got up when he said that to cinch his win. Even though he had a head start, Harry still won. He always did. Only because he let him.

*

Draco got away from the boisterous lunch crowd in the lounge room at work, to talk to Harry on his cell. Luckily, his building didn't emit too much magic to disable Muggle objects.

"So you want to go see Olimpi, huh?" asked Draco. Harry said that Olimpi, the nurse from St. Mungo's, gave them a lifetime invitation, and that they would be taking advantage of it now.

"Yeah, she's a nurse," said Harry excitedly. Harry was never openly excited so there must be reason for it. He could hear the pillow smothering some of the phone receiver. Draco knew that Harry spent most of his time in bed still 'getting up'. "She could tell us of all the precautions and who would be a better candidate for the transformation." Ah, the truth comes out.

"That's the real reason why you want to go," observed Draco. "It's because you think she'll tell us that I should have woman parts. You are not slick Harry James Potter; subtlety was never your forte."

"Whatever," said Harry nonchalantly. "Are you coming?"

"Of course," replied Draco, looking askance at the door to the lounge room, "I sort of like her."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Harry. "I knew you did." Draco rolled his eyes. Of course, he liked her. She'd taken care of his Harry.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," responded Draco. "Look, I have to go." He clicked his cell off, knowing that Harry wouldn't find it rude at all. He knew how busy Draco could get.

"Hurry up, Mr. Malfoy! I have the most wonderful news!" exclaimed the happy-go-lucky Tracey "Trixie" Delacroix. "Terry Boot is throwing a party and Ricky Ripley is going to be there! You can persuade him to assist Harry's case against the Applebee Arrows."

"Er," said Draco, thinking it would be good to get Harry's legal trouble out the way since Delinda was throwing a fit. "When is it?" He hoped that Delinda hadn't willingly gone to the Daily Prophet yet.

"Friday, sir," she answered promptly.

"Hmm," sounded Draco. "Tell Sharky to get Harry and me an invitation. We'll cancel if we can't make it. Where is Sharky by the way?"

Trixie giggled and pointed down the hallway. Sharky was leaning casually against one of the cobalt blue walls chatting with an older female. She had dark brown hair, olive skin, and a little round nose. She was laughing at something Sharky said. Everything would've been perfectly normal if it hadn't been for the dark makeup and clothes she wore. She had her eyes lined in purple kohl, wore black lipstick, black nail polish, and she had all black on, including the strange leather bangles on her wrists and the leather choker on her neck. The combat boots completed the set, with long silver belt hanging hazardously from her black cargo trousers. Her sleeveless shirt said in curly bold white text: Am I Bad? Hell Yeah, I'm Bad. I'm A Bad Motherfucker. BEEYATCH!

"Holy shit," whispered Draco. He almost laughed at Sharky's taste in women. He didn't know if having someone looking like she just stepped out of a Punk/Goth party strolling around the office was good for business. He wasn't prejudice at all but the people who came to speak with him usually were, and then the employees... Draco sighed. The rumours would be flying. Draco folded his arms looking at the dark and older version of Nymphadora Tonks. He almost wished he could take a picture to show Harry, but she wasn't some freak show to be exploited. Nevertheless, she had to get on the road.

"Valliant," called Draco. He only called him Sharky when around close friends, there always had to be an air of professionalism when around other people.

Sharky, grinning, led his newfound friend to him and Draco saw himself face to face with a woman who could shoot the shit. He liked women like that. Delinda was sort of like that, only she was too femalely manipulative. There are better ways to go about things than jealousy.

Draco shook the older woman hand (nice grip), to find out her name was Cecilia Waters. She had hazel eyes up close and Draco thought she looked magnificent. Her personality and personal preference of clothes screamed confidence and fuck you. Draco was starting to admire this woman without even speaking to her properly. He told Sharky not to bring her around his job dressed, so, er, extravagant. That was after she left, of course. He really liked her outfit and didn't think he had the heart to say, "Your clothes and personality aren't welcomed here."

Draco noticed that Sharky distractedly agreed and that he was looking like a right fool. Draco shook his head; maybe he's found his true love. It was peaceful again in the wizarding world. True love could be pursued without wondering if some dark wizard is at your favourite restaurant waiting for the most opportune time to raise hell.

"Sharky," said Draco, in his Mr. Malfoy voice, "stop mooning over your gothic girlfriend."

Sharky snapped out of his trance and said, "Er, sir, yes, sir." Draco remembered Harry used to look like that all the time. He almost laughed.

"Go talk to Tracey," ordered Draco, "she has something to tell you."

"Uh, huh. Yeah... Er, sir." He was vastly distracted and Draco amusedly hoped it wouldn't interfere with his work. He almost walked into the doorway and Draco covered his mouth to flee down the hallway. He was boss man around here and if he got caught giggling like a schoolgirl, cool points would be lost.

Draco recovered himself in his in office and made a few phone calls to do interviews. This month, the main topic would be people in relationships using undercover agents to spy on their lovers. Some people can be so insecure, thought Draco, greeting Mandy Brocklehurst on the line.

*

"Harry, come on!" Draco was already dressed and waiting. They were going to be late if Harry didn't get his bloody clothes on soon. Draco remembered while they were at Hogwarts, Harry would sometimes be late to class and breakfast. He couldn't figure out how Harry was late or missed breakfast because he ate like a dragon.

Draco paced the living room and stopped to look in the wall mirror. He was wearing a blue silk button up shirt with fine cotton slacks and shiny leather shoes. He wore no tie and left the first two buttons unbuttoned. He looked good. Just because Voldemort and Lucius had threatened to tear the world apart didn't mean Draco had ever lost his fashion sense. He was just more grateful that he had clothes on his back, a roof over his head, and someone who loved him. Guess, I'm lucky and lovely, thought Draco conceitedly, as he turned in the mirror to make sure everything was in place. He fingered the ribbon holding his hair back in a ponytail. It was metal cobalt blue; his mother had given it to him for his eighteenth birthday. It was actually wrapped around the parcel, but Draco figured it would make for a good hair accessory.

Harry stepped out, and Draco figured that Harry wanted to make the impression that he was unfit to bear a child. Draco raised and eyebrow and Harry looked around innocently whistling. He wore loose black jeans and a matching jacket with a red fitted tee. It was arranged in a way you would've thought a brooding teenager dressed.

"You look like a berk," commented Draco, looking over Harry decisively. "I will not let you play the sympathy card tonight." He knew the game Harry was trying to play and it would not work.

He stepped near the door with Harry in tow and looked at him. "And, behave yourself." Harry had the habit of groping him under tables.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Of course, dear."

Draco sighed; Harry really did need a far better role model than him. I'm rubbing off on him, thought Draco as the stepped out into the slight chill.

"I will not have woman parts."

"Whatever you say."

Draco could feel more than see Harry face breaking smile. He groaned.

~*~

They had Apparated in the park not too far from her house and walked from there. Draco had remarked how strange Muggles were to live so close to each other and wondered how they had any privacy when someone was so close to them.

"Saves space," remarked Harry.

"Oh yes," said Draco, his arm gesturing to the surroundings with flourish, "the ever self-efficient Muggles." Harry snorted just as he saw a familiar house. The Dursleys.

He could tell they were home because there were lights on in the house. He wondered whether Dudley was still there swinging his fat fists in frustration whenever he couldn't figure something out. He never expected to feel this hesitant anxiety while passing. Even so, he had so many bad memories of this place, namely, the one where Dudley almost got kissed by a Dementor. Harry unconsciously shivered; he loathed Dementors. A hand lay on his shoulder and he almost jumped.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Draco's eyes shone strangely under the streetlight with worry.

"Just fine," said Harry, a little too quickly. Draco cocked a sardonic eyebrow. Draco knew him so well. Well after twelve years, he ought to, thought Harry.

Draco looked at the house. "It's them, isn't it?" Harry nodded mutely as they passed and the Dursleys and all their mistreatment of him became the past again. Draco had his arm intertwined with Harry's as the made their way to Sway's house.

"Hello Harry, Draco." Sway graciously opened the door to her house. She took their coats automatically. Harry still could not believe he never saw her once while he lived just down the street. Not even when he wandered around because his Uncle threw him out for a few hours. Strange.

When they entered, Harry noticed everything was polished and wooden. The floors, the ceiling, the walls, furniture, and even the telly had a wooden frame. God forbid if someone were to light a fire in here, thought Harry looking around. The house looked a lot bigger from inside and he wondered whether Sway used a charm here. She was speaking all the while and Harry nodded and said noncommittal things at the right pauses. Draco seemed entranced with her little knick-knacks on the mantel and fingered each one carefully. Harry mouthed 'I told you so' to Sway who stifled a giggled.

"This is beautiful," murmured Draco, fingering a minuscule vase. "Did you make this?"

"Yep," answered Sway. "I made it when I was about, hmm, seventeen. A lot of people thought it pointless to practice Muggle skills, but I loved it. The feel of the wood, even though it made my hands rough, splintered, and sometimes blistered, was wonderful. I loved creating things; I still do, though not as often as used to, mind you. I need my hands for healing." She laughed, a little bitterly; Harry noted that he never heard a real unpleasant sound from her. However, he wouldn't push her.

"Anyway," she said, averting the topic from personal ground. "I made up all the dishes and they're already laid out. I don't see why people tease their guests by bringing food out slowly." She led them into an equally wooden but more mahogany room. "I think it's more practical to have the food already laid out so the guest can tuck in as soon as they sit down." She smiled at Harry, who she knew ate like a dragon. Harry blushed sheepishly.

"Great idea," remarked Draco. "Even though it takes the fun out of impressing your guests with your fine utensils." He sat and Harry opposite of him. Harry noticed a mini chandelier hanging above them. She must get paid pretty good, thought Harry looking around at the cabinets that held crystal sculptures.

"You mean showcasing?" asked Sway. Draco nodded as he started to help himself to green vegetables and baked turkey. "No, I don't like all the flourish and show. I know that sounds ridiculous because I created these," she pointed at the plates and utensils, "and don't even have company much and don't show off."

Draco smiled at her. "I don't think you need to show off. You're modesty shows in your skill and in your creations. It's quite brilliant actually." Ah, the Malfoy charm. Harry could already see his words were having the desired effect on Sway who blushed prettily. The subtle way of complimenting someone was more or less the Malfoy charm. It scared Harry. Draco could convince anyone to do or believe anything. He remembered Draco convincing a Muggle that a streetlight looked sort of purple. He goes about things in an inconspicuous manner. Harry chuckled remembering.

"Doesn't that light, that's supposed to be red, look kind of purple?" asked Draco, standing next to the Muggle.

The Muggle looked at him as if he were mad, then looked back at the light. "I don't think so, looks red to me."

"But look, it has a sort of fuchsia or purplish look to it. Look closer."

And the Muggle did. In fact, he peered. "I mean it's red... Well, I guess the colour could be... a little off."

"Yeah, that's why yellow looks so alien next to it. See how there's hardly any red left." Harry watched and listened intently in disbelief, as Draco convinced the Muggle that the bright red light was purple.

"...Yeah, yeah, I do see it!" exclaimed the Muggle. This new revelation seemed to brighten the Muggle's day.

"See, that's why people notice the yellow and purple. They clash together, it's really terrible. Of course, they-" even though Harry doubted Draco knew who they were, "-made it like that because people will see it easier if it's a nasty looking combination. See, -" gesturing wildly, "-if it were really red it would blend too nicely and people would miss it."

The Muggle nodded his head in understanding and Harry had to move to keep them from hearing his snickers. He didn't see how Draco could do that with a straight face, well; he was brought up as a Malfoy in a Death Eater family after all.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," breathed the Muggle, now gesturing wilding as well. "I can see it! Wow, just wait til I put this in the paper!" It turns out the Muggle was a reporter for a small local newspaper. Draco and Harry couldn't stop laughing afterwards. They still had the cut out of the article and replies to it framed in their den.

Sway looked at them both blushing. "It's nothing really. I just put my heart into it."

Harry nodded in understanding chewing some mash. "I know how it is. I put my soul into Quidditch."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I swear that sport takes him away from me so much," said Draco, swirling the juice around in his glass lazily. "But I used to be a seeker too, my heart just laid elsewhere."

"I see," said Sway, looking at them intently. "So, what's the real reason you two attractive boys are in my house?"

Harry had choked on his orange juice; that was unexpected. "Wha-what d-do y-you-"

"What he means to say is," supplied Draco, shaking his head at Harry's sputtering, "Whatever do you mean by that statement? We like you as person and came here in free will." Draco smiled sweetly over his interlaced hands propped up by his elbows and Harry snorted.

Sway eyed them both, and laced with sarcasm, said, "Obviously." She rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Spill it."

"Tell Draco he'll have woman parts." Harry smiled at Sway's surprised face. This time, Draco choked on his own juice. Harry sniggered. Oh, this felt good, he thought happily. Real good.

"What?" Sway was grinning madly and Harry thought it was a good look for her. She was actually kind of pretty.

"We want to have babies," said Harry flatly. Sway was giggling.

"So much for subtlety, Potter," sneered Draco.

Draco was so melodramatic you'd think he'd gone into theatre rather than the magazine business. Draco, with Harry adding tad bits of humorous commentary, explained their dilemma. Sway ingested it pretty well, a little too calmly. Was there something wrong?

"So, you know, it would be great for us to have your opinion of who should undergo the change," finished Draco, who miraculously cleared his plate.

"Tell Draco he'll have woman parts." Harry smiled a sick sweet smiled at Draco who glared ferociously.

"I see," she finally said carefully. "You must, of course, take all into consideration when you do this. A female body is completely different, completely, from a male's." She took a deep breath. "Not only that, think of the other outside influences as well. Who would run your business, Draco? Would you let your colleagues and employees see you this way? Not that it should be embarrassing, it's just I know how people are."

Harry hadn't considered that and looking at Draco, he hadn't either. She magically cleared away the dishes and beckoned them into the cosy living room. She sat down in a red comfy looking chair and leaned back, it seemed it reclined, and sighed heavily. Sway gestured for them to sit on the opposite couch. She sat up suddenly, all the pleasantness diminished. She was dead serious.

"The first thing is to hope your body does not reject the potion. The ingredients aren't what make people allergic; it's the potion as a whole. There's a small percentage of people who can't take it because they half transform or, there's a very small chance, about one percent chance, of the potion reacting to you badly and killing you." She had her eyes trained on them.

Harry felt as though he swallowed a sea full of eels. His stomach felt empty, cold, full, and squirming simultaneously. Draco's features paled as well and he looked ghost like. Harry clutched his hand and meant to be reassuring but Harry was terrified at the thought of losing Draco. He swallowed hard but Draco kept a straight face. Hardened by years of people using, abusing you and no one caring, he's faced enough horror in his life to survive this, thought Harry. Because he is a survivor, Harry's mind said proudly. As am I. He held Draco's hand tighter and looked at him. We're in this together; he tried to communicate with his expression. It seemed to have worked because Draco squeezed back and smiled.

"There isn't any tests I know of yet to see if you're allergic to the potion, so it's a small but grave risk," she continued. "The second thing is that you have to be sure you want to do this because it's permanent until you take another potion to change back. There have been couples that have broken up because their mate wanted to stay in the opposite sex's body. You'll get comfortable in it about three months in. You'll change into yourself, if by some cruel twist of faith," she eyed them appreciatively, "you were the opposite sex. Therefore, you look like yourself if you were a girl and many things can change. Like your hair colour and what your facial features look like. Things of that nature." She sipped her butterbeer. Harry hadn't even noticed she had one. He instinctively licked his lips.

"Want one? Because with that kind of stare, I'm afraid my bottle will jump into your hands," teased Sway. Harry had the grace to blush. She wordlessly accio-ed two cold butterbeers into Harry and Draco's hand. The both murmured thanks while she continued.

"Let's see," she said, sipping, "there's also the outward reactions to people you know and people you don't know. There's also that you both are famous in your own ways and who knows what the Daily Prophet will print. Are you prepared for the thousands of owls and maybe howlers that would attack you?"

Harry knew what it was liked to be flayed alive by the Daily Prophet. He winced he hadn't thought either. Draco gripped his hand tighter and said, "We survived worse." Sway smiled and it seemed as though everything was fine, even though he knew it wasn't. Draco smiled at him too and he grinned back like a fool. Boy was he feeling foolish lately. He knew Draco would always catch him anyway if he fell.

"Draco," said Sway.

"Hmm?" sounded Draco, sipping his butterbeer.

"You'll have woman parts."

Draco choked and spat butterbeer all over Sway. Harry was caught between being horrified and laughter. Sway dried and cleaned herself with a wave of her hand. She had a bemused expression as she saw Draco cough and choke violently. Harry patted his back only to have his hand rudely pushed away and a death glare shot his way.

"Now, now, Draco," chastised Sway. "You asked my professional opinion and I gave it to you. It's not so bad. Besides, you have to be physically healthy to undergo the change and it would be dangerous for Harry." Draco glared at her too.

Harry could sense the anger rippling off him and always felt uneasy whenever he was this angry. He didn't think they should stay any longer.

"Sway, I think Draco's..." Harry saw his anger scowl and continued, thinking this was a very smart move, "very upset and we should leave. All right." He looked over to see Draco stiffly nod.

Sway nodded and handed them their coats. "I enjoyed both you as company. Especially you Draco."

Another stiff nod and controlled carefully, he said, "Thank you for inviting us into your beautiful home and feeding us your delicious prepared food. I look forward to coming back soon." Harry almost snorted, if it wasn't for Draco's mood, he would've. Damn Malfoy manners. They left right afterwards. They didn't speak the whole way home.

~*~

Harry noted that Draco still hadn't spoke to him. They washed and dressed in silence, which grated on Harry's nerves. When they got in bed, he was fed up at Draco's childish behaviour, if he wanted a child so bad, why was he griping so much about it?

"Draco, it isn't that bad," said Harry softly.

"The hell it isn't!" he snapped.

"I thought we wanted a child. I won't be able to do it. You don't want me to die, do you?"

"No."

"Then stop acting-"

Draco clung hard to him suddenly. "I'm scared," he whispered. "I know it's foolish, but I think that when I change, I'll actually change. I think that my personality will change, and I already know you won't be attracted to me when I'm a woman, and then you'll see something has change and-"

"Shush," said Harry. "I thought we squashed those insecurities a long time ago?"

"Sometimes they come back."

"I know the feeling. But always believe in reality and not what you fear it is. All right?"

Draco nodded and drifted off to sleep nestled in Harry's pillow. Harry mused that they had been having soft pillow talks during most of the week. The next few months were going to hell most likely and he would be prepared to endure it all the way. He went to sleep holding Draco.