Content

Harry Potter was, for probably one of the first times in his life, totally content. There was really nothing left for him to do. No Dark Lords to fight, no job troubles, no worries whatsoever. He smiled that famous Harry Potter Smile, and stretched himself out on an overly long, over stuffed couch in the middle of his flat in London. He closed his eyes and was content. He opened his eyes and was content. He shifted his weight a bit to the left and rolled onto his side, where he was content. Finally, he got up and decided he wasn't really content at all. There was absolutely nothing to do. And Harry Potter wasn't exactly the kind of person that can lie around for hours and just be content. No, Harry always had to be doing something.

Maybe, he thought, if I get a sandwich, then I'll be able to relax. He scrambled to his feet and wandered into the kitchen. He piled turkey, cheese, tomatoes, lettuce, onions, mayonnaise, pickles and a dollop of horse radish sauce onto a hard roll and then proceeded to cram all of it into his mouth in as few bites as possible. Now, he would be content. Back to the couch he went, and stretched out again, and closed his eyes, and opened his eyes, and rolled to the left onto his side and decided that maybe a sandwich hadn't been the answer. He glanced at the clock. 5:00 P.M. he thought, four more hours.

Harry raised himself onto an elbow to watch the enormous black dog lying in front of the fire. Big unblinking black eyes stared back.

Harry stared.

The dog stared.

Harry blinked.

The dog stared.

Harry wiggled his nose.

A drop of drool dripped from the mouth of the dog, who was still staring.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to stare?"

The dog was unabashed.

"Apparently not."

Harry pulled himself into a sitting position.

"We're going for a walk," he proclaimed with enthusiasm. Walks make people content. Especially walks with dogs. Now, the word 'walk' had been enough to rouse the massive beast from his place on the floor and send him careening into the other room, or at least he tried. Before he could get all the way through the door, Harry hurled himself on top of it and tackled it to the floor. The dog whined as Harry sat astride it and clipped a leash onto its collar.

"That's right, good boy, we like walks don't we?"

The dog stared.

"Well, fine, but you're going anyway."

The colossal black beast had been a present from Lupin after he had graduated. They had never talked about what had happened that night in the Ministry of Magic, except for a few drunken escapades which may or may not have happened, Harry couldn't quite remember. But, in his godfather's memory, they had named the dog Sirius and it possessed quite a few of its namesake's old qualities. It despised Snape, for instance.

Harry pushed open the door and took a deep breath before starting down the stairs. He walked out onto the semi-busy street and immediately spotting Hermione sitting across the way, eating in a café and buried in some enormous book. He smiled. Some things never change.

"Hermione! Hey! HERMIONE!!" Harry jogged across the street towards his friend, dodging a few cars and a rather pissed off motorcyclist. Hermione lok up and smiled at the sight of him looking rather alarmed at the significantly larger man and apologizing profusely. He scampered away looking grateful to still be in possession of all of his limbs.

"Evening, Harry. I see you've made a new friend," she said as he slumped into the chair next to her.

"Oh yeah, best buds we are," he said, giving the retreating back one more nervous glance. "So what have you been up to?"

"Oh, nothing really," she replied, "just a bit of research on some new charms the Ministry has asked me to follow up on." Hermione had gone to work in the Ministry straight after the end of the war and was one of the major contributors to its reform.

"And how's Ron?" Harry asked. The two had been living together for a few months now, and were planning to marry at the Burrow at the end of the summer.

"Just fine," Hermione replied. "We're thinking of taking a trip down to Hogsmeade to visit Ginny and Dean towards the fall."

"Really? Well, maybe I'll stop by some weekend to see you guys," Harry said with a smile. Ever since the end of the war, Harry had been playing professional Quidditch for England, but got a few weekends off, such as the one he was currently on. The problem was, he could never find anything to do on those weekends.

Sirius suddenly jumped to his feet, pulling the leash from Harry's hands, and took off down the street.

"Oh, shit," Harry swore. "Hermione, I'll see you around, ok?" he called over his shoulder as he sprinted off after the stupid beast. "Sirius! SIRIUS!"

People's heads turned and watched, first as the great black dog that barreled down the street overturning both carts and people, then at the semi-short, well-muscled, slightly messy looking young man that careened after him making just as much of a mess, but at least apologized for it.

"Oh, sorry, so sorry, excuse me, SIRIUS!" he apologized to the sixth woman he knocked over, then screamed in her ear. As he chased the dog, Harry gradually became aware that it was getting darker, clouds were moving in overhead. He swore extremely colorfully as he felt the first few drops of rain, which quickly turned into a downpour.

"SIRIUS!!"

So much for a nice, relaxing day off.

"SIRIUS!!"

The sun had begun to set and the street lamps flickered to light. The crowded streets thinned and soon, Harry was the only person left standing, in the dark, in the rain, and without his dog.

"SIRIUS!!"

Grudgingly he realized that it was too dark to see properly and that the dog could be anywhere in the city by now. He shook his head and sent droplets of water flying as he began the long walk back to his flat. It seemed like he would never get there. A block from his apartment, he looked at his watch. 8:30. Well, he thought, just a half hour more.

As he reached his building, he spotted a large, scruffy looking black mound curled up on the door step.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed. The dog gave him a wet, slobbery lick and then looked pleadingly at the door inside.

"The door man will have my head for letting you in the building soaking wet," he said. He gave himself an appraising look. "Though I'm not much better," he finished with a chuckle, as he let himself into his building cold, wet, and more than a bit hungry from the three and a half hour chase.

Harry fully expected to enter a cold, dark flat, but that was anything but the case. The second he walked into the door, strong arms enveloped him, wrapping a towel around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug.

"Hey," Harry mumbled into a strong chest. "What are you doing home so soon?"

A low snigger. "A little birdie told me my boyfriend had lost his dog and it looked like it was going to rain. I figured I'm warm him up when he got home." The voice was low, husky, and sensual.

"You're too good for me," Harry mumbled into that same chest, feeling arms wrap around him and pull him close despite designer clothes. They both watched Sirius go and lie next to the fire that had been lit in the hearth.

"I know," came that beloved deep husky voice again, "but the sex is amazing."

Harry giggled.

"Come, love," the voice commanded softly. "Time to get you out of those disgusting wet clothes."

A wave of a wand and Harry heard water running. Hands met in the small of his back, pushing him into the bathroom.

"Arms up." Harry complied, and felt the layers of soaked clothes pull away until he wore naught but his skin.

Then, hands pushing him into the shower.

"Aren't you going to join me?" Harry asked from the door.

A smirk.

"No, I'm going to make dinner. Your favorite, the muggle way. Be quick."

And with that, a door shut and Harry was alone again.

He's home, he came home for me, Hermione must have told him about Sirius, he came home early for me... Harry nearly burst into song. He washed his hair, and the rest of his body, pausing at his half risen erection, debating whether or not to 'deal with it', per say. Best save that for later, he thought.

Squeaky clean, he emerged from the shower in a cloud of steam. He dried himself and wandered into the shared bedroom, unable to keep a grin off his face. He dressed in a fuzzy old sweatshirt and pajama pants, and wandered back into the living room. Before he could get there, however, hands covered his eyes and guided him. He could feel hot breath on the back of his neck, and a deliciously warm body up against his back.

All too soon, they reached the kitchen, and Harry was released. He gasped. The room was softly lit by two candles on the table, and innumerable candles on the surrounding counter. The table was set with fine china and silver. Typical, Harry thought.

With a snap of fingers, dinner appeared on the shining plates. Harry laughed. Kraft Mac & Cheese. His favorite. He turned back to the man behind him.

"Do you like?" he asked.

"I love," Harry said. "But why all this?"

"Lets just say it's a God-I-missed-you-so-much-when-I-was-gone-I-nearly-died kind of dinner." A smile.

"Lets eat!"

Eat they did. Three boxes worth. And they talked too. Harry was aware of something rising in his chest, the same something that had held him back from being content earlier in the evening, but he didn't consciously notice it. He was too busy learning about dragons in India and a crazy heard of centaurs in the Americas. And as it disappeared, he found his smile getting more genuine, his laugh getting more authentic, and his eyes sparkled in a way they hadn't for a while.

Slowly, they made their way to the living room with glasses of wine and dessert (cheesecake) and then, when that was finished, to the bedroom, where Harry's erection was more than taken care of.

After, they curled up into each other.

"Hey," Harry said thickly.

"Mmmm," he answered, his face buried in Harry's delicious silky black hair.

"I'm really glad your home."

A shy smile.

"Me too, Harry. Me too."

Yes, Harry Potter was, for once content. And it was all due to Draco Malfoy.