Crackers

"Well, if you ask me," Draco Malfoy said, eyebrow raised so high it was a miracle it did not simply give up the ghost and leap off his forehead, "the Weasley twins are bloody crackers."

Harry Potter smiled serenely and lifted two nondescript brown paper bags. "Precisely my point."

Draco crossed his arms, fixing his boyfriend of four years with a frown. "You certainly have been spending a lot of time over there lately. If I didn't know better..."

"But you do." Harry set down the bags. Sighing, he went over and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's slim torso from behind. Draco shifted and made a moody attempt to push him off, but he knew that Harry understood persistence was the name of the game when Draco was in one of his moods. There would be no rest for the weary. Or the slightly peeved, for that matter. The former Slytherin was content to remain rigid, even as he felt Harry rest his cheek against his back. But finally, he got a bit fidgety and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Alright then, I'll bite. What's in the bloody bags, Potter?"

Harry smiled and turned his boyfriend around to face him. "Let me kiss you and I'll tell you."

Draco snorted and held up his hand, effectively pushing a leaning Harry backwards. "No dice, Boy Wonder. I'm not in the mood for it. Just tell me what's in the bags. You're home, with me for once. I don't need to worry about where you might be gallivanting off to anymore, so I want to go to sleep."

Harry pouted and dropped his arms, releasing the other man. For an instant, Draco felt a little chagrined. But then his pride won out and he fixed Harry with a don't-push-me-right-now-I'm-poisonous glare. Harry shrugged and cocked a smile at him.

"Crackers."

"Excuse me?"

"In the bags. You said you wanted to know what was in the bags. Well, the answer is firecrackers."

Horror crept up into Draco's innards. "You brought firecrackers manufactured by the Weasley twins into our home? What on earth are you on, Harry? Give me those, I am going to throw them outside and levitate them as far away from here as I can, and then I am going to bed."

Harry stepped away from Draco's outstretched palm. "Oh, honestly, Draco. You think I would do something as dangerous as what you're suggesting?"

Draco frowned. "It's not you, Harry. It's Fred and George Weasley I'm worried about. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a joke and a life-threatening situation to save their lives. Not that it's their fault, but... Harry, give me those bags."

Harry shook his head, placing the bags behind him on the ground. Draco pulled his wand from his pocket and tried to aim it between Harry's ankles, but his boyfriend squatted down quickly, keeping himself in the way of the wand. Draco gave a growl of frustration and lowered his wand arm, running his free hand through his hair wearily.

"Fine, Harry. But at least put some sort of containment spell on them before you go to sleep."

He made to go into the bedroom they shared, fully intending to place a containment spell of his own around their bed in case the firecrackers went off anyway, but Harry dodged around in front of him and stopped his progress.

"I was thinking I wouldn't need a spell like that because we would set them off tonight."

Draco blinked silently at his lover, hoping with every fiber of his being that Harry was joking. He began to chuckle. "Oh, yes, very amusing, Harry. You know I hate firecrackers. Now come off it and let me by."

He regretted his words when Harry dropped his eyes and pursed his lips in a disappointed grimace. He looked like a child who had just been told to sit in the corner. Draco watched the other man pensively, almost ready to give in and put up with one or two firecrackers if only to wipe the distress from Harry's face.

But no. Harry had hardly been home for the past two weeks. Always over at the Weasleys', or so he said, leaving Draco to an empty house night after night. Arriving home later than even Draco could remain awake, crawling into bed beside him at some ungodly hour, and then doing... nothing. He was sick of it, and hurt. Most of all, he was worried. Not that he thought Harry would cheat on him, much less with one of the Weasleys, but... Well, there was always that tiny spark of fear.

He couldn't help it. Harry was his. His lover. His boyfriend. The reason he was able to live so contentedly, so guiltlessly. Something he was secretly afraid he didn't deserve, and therefore, it worried him deep down in dark places that one day Harry would up and leave. Which is what seemed to be happening, little by little.

And, being Draco Malfoy, his immediate response to being frightened was to close himself off. If Harry could not be bothered to be there when Draco wanted to talk things over, to fix whatever was happening to them, to be with him - if he insisted on being at the Weasleys' instead - then Draco could certainly return the favor and go straight to sleep when Harry came home at last, wanting to detonate two bags of questionable firecrackers at half-midnight on a Thursday. He had things to do in the morning after all, and Harry would not be completely miserable waiting one more day to experiment with his new toys, would he?

"Harry," he muttered, feeling guilty while at the same time indignantly reminding himself that he was the one who deserved to be angry. "Look, I'm tired. I don't think I can handle all those flashing lights and loud bangs. Can we do this tomorrow instead?"

Harry raised his head, green eyes narrowed thoughtfully. After searching Draco's face for a moment, he finally laid one hand on the former Slytherin's arm, stroking his skin gently. "Please, Draco? Just give me five minutes to convince you, and then if you don't like it, we can go to sleep."

Well. It was a given. Draco could never resist Harry's eyes when he looked at him like that. Not matter how upset he was.

"Five minutes. That's it."

Harry treated Draco to one of those grins that made him weak throughout his entire body. He had to fight the urge to grab his boyfriend and just snog him senseless right there in the kitchen, firecrackers and mysterious absences be damned. Instead, he allowed Harry to take his hand and lead him through the back door into the cool night air. They lived in a suburb outside of Manchester, which was completely unnecessary for Draco Malfoy, the sole holder of the Malfoy vault at Gringott's. But the mansion had too many memories, too many dark corners. He hadn't wanted Harry tainted by the malevolence that still seeped around the place. So they'd found a house here instead, on a quiet street filled with equally quiet, self-minding Muggles.

Draco shivered slightly as he stepped outside. The nighttime neighborhood was almost completely silent. Somewhere down the row of houses, a dog barked twice and then subsided. Draco watched Harry set up five large firecrackers, beginning to feel apprehensive about this idea.

"Harry, won't we wake the neighbors?"

"Never bothered you before," Harry tossed back in a low voice, grinning rather evilly.

Draco glared at him and crossed his arms over his chest. How dare Harry turn that around on him? And how dare he smirk like that? He was glad of the dim light, because, damn it all to hell, he was blushing.

Something else he'd never done until he began seeing Harry.

Said boyfriend walked over to where Draco stood, brushing his hands off against his jeans. "Okay, I think that's it. According to Fred and George, all we need is our wands now."

Draco snorted. "According to whom, did you say?"

Harry turned a withering look on him. "Oh, come on. You'll like this. Immensely."

"Will I."

"Yes, you will." Harry's brow furrowed as he gazed at Draco in the half-light. He squinted keenly. "I bet you."

Draco stifled a yawn. "What on earth could you want to wager at this time of night?"

Harry grinned. He slid his arms innocently around Draco's waist and began gliding his fingers up and down his lower back. "Oh, I'm sure you can think of something."

Draco felt himself growing warm under Harry's ministrations. Oh, yes. He could definitely think of something. More than a few somethings. He half-turned to press a kiss on his boyfriend's mouth when a voice broke through the steadily clouding brain he liked to call his own. For pity's sake, have a backbone, will you? You're Draco bloody Malfoy! He merely touches you and you crumble?

Draco pursed his lips and closed his eyes, determined to gain control over himself once more. In a bored tone that ended up sounding slightly strained - but he didn't think Harry would fault him if he noticed - he said, "Why don't you think of something? I'm somewhat worn out at the moment."

Harry eyed him briefly, and a patient smile touched his lips. "Alright. Here are the terms. You look interested, I get a kiss. You smile, I get to choose the kiss. You say anything complimentary at all, and I get to take something off."

"Of yourself?"

"Of you."

Harry fingered the buttons on Draco's shirt. Draco's breath caught in his throat and he had a damned difficult time continuing to look nonchalant. Hard to be calm while imagining Harry slowly and sensuously relieving him of the clothing he was wearing. Because Harry was extremely good at things like that.

It wasn't really a fair bet, was it? Not when Draco half wanted to lose upon hearing the terms.

But he was not a pushover. He'd been a prefect in school. He was heir to a massive fortune, which he could claim whenever he liked. He was a Slytherin alum. And he was a Malfoy. Harry was going to have to work hard for this.

"Deal."

Harry grinned again beautifully, and Draco had the sudden urge to yell at him for cheating. He let his own face slip into a deadpan and turned impatiently toward the first of the firecrackers. Harry leaned in, raised his wand, and shot a small spark of orange light at the wick on top of the cracker. Draco cringed inwardly, waiting for the sizzle, the boom, the high-pitched shrieking... to say nothing of whatever those dratted Weasleys had cooked up.

Instead, a silent fountain of gold erupted from the column. It swirled together, and coalesced into a fluttering golden snitch, then proceeded to zip about in a vague circle over the row of firecrackers. Up, down, over, under... The snitch whirred round and round erratically, dipping along the fence line, showering a trail of golden sparks that twinkled out before they reached the grass.

Draco could not help it. His eyebrow twitched.

Harry's voice broke in, a low murmur. "Is that interest, then?"

Mutely, Draco turned to face his boyfriend. Harry was half-smiling in the glow of the fading snitch. After a moment's hesitation, Draco leaned down and gave Harry a curt kiss on the lips before turning away.

"Next."

He could feel Harry's eyes on him. "Draco?"

"Harry."

"Are you really that angry with me?"

The question caught him by surprise. He darted a glance toward Harry before he could consider, and knew from the way the other man swallowed that he had already gleaned his poorly subdued frustration from his eyes. Draco sighed. As much as he wanted to dispel Harry's worries, keep him from pulling away even more than he already seemed to be... well, Draco was not about to lie to the man he loved. That would be suicide to what they had. Even if it was dying anyway.

"Harry... you're never here anymore."

The dark-haired man glanced away so briefly he almost didn't catch the movement. "I... I'm sorry. I've been... working on something. Something important."

"Aren't we important?" Draco asked softly. "What am I supposed to thi--"

He halted abruptly, letting the words hang. The unfinished question seemed harsh to his ears. Accusatory. But he had asked it anyway. Stubbornness. If that particular character trait of his did not destroy everything eventually, Draco would be incredibly surprised.

Harry's response was an almost inaudible sigh and another flick of his wand. The second firecracker burst without a sound into a beautiful swirl of tiny twinkling lights. For a moment, Draco had no idea what he was looking at... until he suddenly picked out the pattern of the dragon constellation that hung in the night sky. The bright chain of stars whorled gently in a sweep of darkness, criss-crossing with glowing nebulae, tiny suns, and small wisps of soft yellow light that could only be comets. Draco was captivated.

When the stars finally dripped and faded away into darkness, Draco felt very subdued. He turned to Harry, knowing that his boyfriend had been watching him carefully throughout the entire event, and leaned in to kiss him again. But Harry stopped him.

"It's alright, Draco," he muttered, looking down at his own raised hand distastefully. "You don't need to do it. It was a stupid bet anyway."

Draco surveyed his lover. Harry's hair was hanging down across his forehead, the angle obscuring his eyes. His shoulders were hitched up and he had crossed one arm over his chest in a weird clutching motion, as if he were cold. Draco felt equally chilled, and was frightened of it.

Draco's hands found Harry's shoulders, and he turned him until they were facing each other. He leaned in and kissed Harry soundly. Surprise rendered Harry completely motionless except for one hand, which latched spasmodically onto his arm. His eyes were wide, cheeks flushed when Draco pulled back. He touched Harry's lips with one finger.

"Bet or no bet. You earned that one."

A hesitant smile brightened Harry's face. He took a deep breath, letting those astounding green eyes drift shut for an instant, and then squared his shoulders. Raising his wand, he sent a third spark toward the fireworks. Draco followed its progress, heart speeding up in anticipation. Or perhaps it was the warm cling of Harry's fingers still on his arm. He wasn't sure he cared which at this point.

The third firecracker gave off piercing light that flowed steadily outward. A large silver stag leaped from the midst of the wall of white, prancing delicately on crystal-thin legs, tossing its elegant head. Draco felt a smile steal across his face as the magnificent creature moved, pawing the air and flicking its ears alertly. He knew about Harry's patronus. God knew Harry'd had to use it enough during the final weeks of the war, when Voldemort had called upon the seemingly never-ending waves of Dementors to destroy in his name. Draco had rarely been there to see Harry fight the former Azkaban guards; instead he had been part of the group that battled Voldemort's human followers. The Death Eaters attacked separately, wanting to stay as far away from the sightless soul-sucking creatures as possible. Draco had been in the hospital after one particularly nasty Death Eater attack; he'd lost a dangerous amount of blood, and the battle had left him with a damaging concussion. He'd woken blearily in the middle of the night to find Harry sitting at his bedside, hands clasping his tightly, and over his shoulder... a vision. There were no Dementors anywhere near the hospital; Draco would have felt their presence. Yet Harry had conjured up his brilliant patronus. The tall stag circled Draco's bed tirelessly every night that Harry was there. He would never forget the calming breath of warm air that had washed over him under the patronus' watchful eye, or the dogged perseverance of a rapidly tiring Harry. His vigil had cost his lover a great deal more than he ever admitted out loud.

Peaceful sleep, and a chance to heal. The feeling was still there, etched into his very bones, even though this time the patronus was not real. He watched until the glowing stag gave a bob of its antlered head and disappeared in a soft whoosh of silver light.

Harry stirred beside him.

"That one took me five days to get right," he said faintly, still gazing at the place where the stag had been. Draco touched his arm and Harry turned, blinking.

"It was worth it," Draco replied. Harry dropped his eyes, and then immediately raised them again. Draco found himself caught in the brightness there, the twin shimmers of green. He found it hard to draw breath, and smiled in order to ease the tightness in his chest. "I believe you get to choose a kiss."

Harry hesitated, then pressed himself slowly against Draco, guiding his head down with gentle hands. His lips were warm and soft, something Draco simply had never found a way to get over in four years. Always tentative, always with a sense of naiveté that stunned Draco and made him fervently amazed at the distance that existed between Harry the warrior and Harry the lover. There was simply no way to reconcile the two until Harry did this to him. A firm hand in his hair, fingers tingling against Draco's scalp, and a gentle requested parting of his lips to allow Harry's tongue to enter. Draco had never been able to resist it. He had ceased trying years ago. Now it was pure bliss, being kissed like this, feeling Harry's slow patient search of his mouth in every last nerve in his body, with the underlying promise of so much more, should he wish to accept it.

Never in his life had Draco wished for something so much as the first time Harry had kissed him that way. Now, four years down the line, with the thousandth such kiss, the wish had not dimmed at all. It had gained in strength, made sweeter by how well he knew Harry and all he had to offer.

Draco was out of breath when Harry finally pulled away. Out of breath and quite willing to continue depriving himself of air, if only to replace that need with Harry's presence. Like oxygen, like water... Harry had become a necessity for his survival. He did not even attempt to fool himself into thinking there were other options out there.

Harry smiled dreamily up at him. Draco thought very coherently about just letting the show end there and taking Harry inside for the night, but... Judging by the progress of the firecrackers, and the delicious shiver that rippled down his own spine, Draco wondered if Harry was not building up to something. Saving the best for last.

He didn't want to miss it.

"Two more?"

Harry nodded in a somewhat dazed fashion, and then blinked and straightened. His eyes cleared and he ran an absent hand through his hair. Draco bit back another smile. His boyfriend was flustered and attempting to right himself once more. Well. He would just see how long that lasted.

Another spark, another firecracker was off. And Draco was struck once more by the level of detail. Light seemed to tumble out of the cracker in two rising streams of red and green. The beams of light entwined around each other, bending and shifting, charging the air with patterns that twisted and danced through the darkness. Always changing shape, becoming opaque and then translucent, sometimes unrecognizable, but resolving each time with an emerald snake curled lovingly around a brightly glowing red lion.

This time the smile was plain across Draco's face, and he was well aware of it. Before the firecracker even finished its last display, he pulled Harry gently to him and brought his mouth up close to the other man's ear.

"Remind me to congratulate the Weasley twins on their inventive firecrackers," he murmured.

Harry smiled slyly. "Wasn't just them, you know."

Draco gave him a half-leer. "If it's all the same to you, you'll be getting your congratulations in the non-verbal way."

Harry's eyes widened. Draco let him think about that, while he considered other things. He now knew for sure where Harry had been all those days, what he had been doing, and wanted to kick himself for behaving so coldly toward him. So Harry did not really understand the level of communication, of togetherness, that kept Draco from self-destructing. Or maybe he did, and had gambled it in order to grant Draco this entirely higher plane of emotional attachment. Draco could have described how much it pained him to think about the apparent fact that he was losing Harry to something he could not even identify. He could have chosen not to see the reality behind this thoughtful and time-consuming project of his lover's. But he felt that the former was unnecessary, and the latter was just hurtful. Harry already knew all of these things. He'd planned with them in mind, and tugged the strings back home before events stepped over the brink and got out of hand.

Surprises were always difficult that way; someone inevitably got a little bit hurt before the end result was reached.

"So," Harry said, bringing Draco back. The dark haired man was looking at him in a hopeful manner. "That was most definitely a compliment, wouldn't you say?"

Draco smiled, raised an eyebrow, and spread his arms in a gesture of compliance. "Saying things seems to get me into trouble. Pick your poison."

"Poison is right," came Harry's response, subdued and breathless. Draco wondered at that as he watched Harry's shaking fingers drift over the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. Harry finally reached the bottom and then raised his hands, gliding them through the opening, up over the smooth expanse of Draco's chest to his shoulders, gradually relieving him of the shirt. Draco fought back a shiver at the warmth of Harry's palms, the way his fingers teased certain areas. The cool night air contrasted, sucking at his bare skin, and the fingers touching his body felt fiery hot. Harry let out a deep breath, hands resting on Draco's shoulders, and gazed at the area he had just uncovered. Draco watched his boyfriend, liking the feel of Harry's eyes on him, knowing he was working Harry up without even doing anything.

He had not known he could do that so thoroughly to another person until Harry told him so three years ago. Oh, Draco knew about the effect he had on the random people he passed, the way they would stare at him. But Harry did not only stare. He could be captivated for hours at a time, scrutinizing Draco's body. Not touching, just looking. At first, it had made Draco distinctly uncomfortable. He saw it as an invasion, one he could not protect against, and one he felt he needed to stop at all costs. It was Harry who patiently talked him out of it the first time, explained that he was beautiful, that he should be treasured. Now Harry's silent study made Draco feel warm, flushed. Adored.

He knew what was physically happening to Harry as well... and got a rather crafty idea of his own.

As Harry leaned in, aiming what was sure to be a lingering kiss on his collarbone, Draco cupped both hands around his boyfriend's face and lifted it up. "Ah-ah... I don't remember you saying anything about a kiss for a compliment."

Harry's face took on a frustrated look, eyes pleading, and Draco bit back a smile. Not that he didn't like what Harry had been planning to do. It was just that two could play this game of tease.

"Now," Draco said, stroking Harry's cheek with his fingers, "it seems you have one firecracker left."

The change was exquisite. Harry's eyes brightened so much that Draco began to seriously wonder what that last firecracker had in store for him. Well, whatever it is, Harry is going to get the best response I can give him.

Draco held his breath, could feel Harry doing the same. It occurred to him that Harry was concerned about this one, whether it would work or not. The dark haired man flicked his wand one last time, and the final firecracker ignited, blooming into a myriad of dancing lights, all colors. They swirled and coalesced, and Draco suddenly found that he was looking at... himself. His jaw dropped. It was most definitely him, and he was standing in mid-air gazing into the distance, but it was as if he were fashioned out of sparkling gems. Emeralds for his shirt, diamonds in his hair. Tiny grey crystals sparking in his eyes. His face... his face looked... worried. The detail was astounding.

"Oh my god... Harry, how...?"

Harry silenced Draco with a touch and turned his attention back to the small glittering version of himself. He watched as his little counterpart gave a sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets. Draco thought he looked dejected, wondered if he himself had looked that way to Harry. Didn't really doubt it.

A flurry of colorful shimmers behind the shining Draco... and suddenly Harry was there as well, wearing ruby-red coal fire, hair a dark glittering obsidian, eyes glowing a green that put the Slytherin colors to shame. The firecracker version of Harry walked up behind the small Draco and slipped his arms around him, in much the same embrace the real Harry had greeted him with on returning home. The small Draco relaxed visibly and entwined the little Harry's fingers in his own. They remained like that for several seconds, standing in mid-air, before fading out.

Draco stared at the now-empty space before his eyes and tried to find words. But his mouth would not work. He looked at Harry silently, saw his boyfriend gazing back... and picked out a flash of worry in those green eyes. Worry for what? That Draco hadn't liked it? That it wasn't in fact the most amazing thing he had ever seen? Draco reached out with shaking hands and touched Harry's shoulder, then his cheek, then ran fingers through his unruly hair.

"Harry, that was... I can't even describe what that was without... there aren't any words..." He closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to breathe until he found his thread again. "I love you more than anything in this world. I don't ever want you to think otherwise."

Harry's face took on an expression Draco had never seen. He looked... his eyes were glittering. He reached up and covered Draco's hand with his own, where it now rested against his cheek.

"That's... high praise," Harry whispered. "Do I get anything for that?"

Draco's smile was slow and confident. He pulled Harry forward until his boyfriend's body was flush against his own. Embracing him with both arms, he rubbed his nose gently against Harry's. "You know exactly what you get for that."

This time Harry's smile was so beautiful and enticing Draco would not have been able to resist even if he wanted to. His boyfriend backed up slowly, still locked in his arms, guiding Draco through the screen door and into the house. Draco caught a glimpse of the used firecrackers before the door shut and made a mental note to owl the Weasley twins with his profuse thanks in the morning.

If they made it out of bed before noon, of course.