Draco awoke the next morning, tangled in blankets again. He blinked sleepily, noting with chagrin that he was alone. Not that he had expected Potter to sleep in the same bed - or even wanted him to. It was just that they'd snogged quite a bit last night and he had expected his persuasive fiancé to demand the right to sleep next to him. Potter hadn't pressed the issue. He had simply slipped off Draco after kissing the very life out of him and headed for his couch.

Draco scowled at the room in general, before catching sight of the bane of his existence sprawled on the sofa. Potter was lying on his stomach with those cursed pyjamas riding low on his hips. Draco eyed him intently, taking the time to really look at Potter. He was lean and tall and had long, dark eyelashes that fluttered as he slumbered. Draco cocked his head. Was he dreaming? The man frowned and turned in his sleep, hissing in pain as his injured foot caught on the arm of the sofa.

Draco sighed and approached the couch. Potter's forehead was furrowed and he mumbled something, batting around for his pillow. Draco rolled his eyes and arranged it under his arm. Potter immediately sighed and mumbled something sounded suspiciously like Draco. Despite himself, the blond smiled.

"Git," he whispered, reaching out tentatively and stroking the lines of Potter's face. The skin smoothed out under his touch as Potter relaxed and fell back into an even sleep. Draco shook his head and lifted the man's injured leg, placing it against the arm of the sofa. That had to be more comfortable.

"Pleasant dreams, you stupid Gryffindor," he murmured, heading off for a shower.

****

Draco was already in the Great Hall, helping himself to breakfast when Potter trudged in. He looked scruffy and sulky and his hair stood up in all different directions. Draco smirked. Potter clearly wasn't much of a morning person. He caught sight of Draco and shuffled over, sitting next to him.

"Well, you look rested," Draco declared cheerfully. Potter ignored him and scowled at the marmalade. Draco noted the bags under his eyes with a twang of guilt. The couch was probably uncomfortable, and Harry was injured. He should have offered to take the couch for the night. Now Potter was probably going to be sullen all day. That was hardly fair. Being sullen was Draco's job. On an impulse, he reached out and carded a hand through Harry's hair, trying to pat it down.

Harry responded by whining and slumping against his shoulder. "Really Potter," Draco admonished. "McGonagall is staring at you." That much was true. As a matter of fact, several of their former teachers were looking over at them with alternate looks of confusion and amusement. No one seemed overtly shocked though, Draco noted. They'd probably been following the Prophet's fantastic coverage.

Potter didn't care. He refused to extricate himself from the crook of Draco's neck and he was getting rather heavy. The blond sighed and poured a cup of coffee, handing it to him. "Here," he sighed. "Drink it and try to act like a functional human being."

Potter blinked at the cup. "Coffee?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, you sot," Draco drawled. "Here, have at it."

Potter accepted the cup gratefully. "Thanks," he murmured. Then without so much as a warning, he turned and pressed his lips to the hollow of Draco's throat. The blond gasped softly, but Potter was already up and sipping his coffee as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Across the hall, McGonagall dabbed her mouth with a napkin, evidently trying to hide a smile.

Draco shook his head hopelessly and went back to his breakfast.

****

For once, they spent the day without any major mishaps. They spent their first few hours wandering around the castle. Harry insisted on visiting all his favourite haunts. That boy had spent far too much time in the Room of Requirement in Draco's opinion. When they stepped in, the room promptly provided them lighted candles, a steaming bath and a huge bed covered in rose petals. Harry whooped in delight while Draco chose to make a run for the door at once.

Then, they had lunch in the Astronomy Tower because Draco was sick and tired of being accosted by Slytherins and Gryffindors alike, demanding a rematch. Potter snagged his sandwich and Draco nicked his pumpkin juice, so all in all fair trade.

Soon enough, they were back outside. Draco chose to read quietly by the lake, while Harry decided to play coach again. He was with the Ravenclaw team this time, shouting encouragement and giving pointers wherever possible. Draco found his eyes drifting from his novel and lingering on Potter longer than necessary.

He seemed to like being around children. He laughed and traded jokes and offered advice freely. They seemed to like him too. Most of them hung on his every word, following him around the pitch with incessant pleas to demonstrate his best moves. Harry obliged them all with an easy manner.

It was... nice, Draco thought. Potter would make an excellent father someday. As was habit, he grimaced at the thought. Still, he supposed it would be nice to see that side of Harry. In theory of course, and only to satisfy his sense of curiosity.

Still...

"Damn, the little buggers can fly," a voice declared. Draco didn't bother looking up. He was used to Potter sneaking up on him by now. His fiancé settled next to him with a sigh of relief. "I'm exhausted."

"Perhaps you're just getting old," Draco retorted, burying himself in his book again. He could almost feel Potter's look of indignation. Draco smirked to himself.

"I'll show you old," Potter growled, snatching the book up nimbly and hauling Draco up again for a kiss. Draco hissed in aggravation as Potter's mouth found his again. He indulged his fiancé for about five seconds before picking up the discarded book and smacking him on the head.

"Behave. There are children around."

"We're engaged!" Potter protested, rubbing his head gingerly.

"That doesn't give you free rein to act like a heathen in public." He ignored Potter's pouting and continued reading, only to stop as something nudged his way on to his lap.

"Harry!" Draco he snapped, glaring down at the man who had comfortably settled with his head in Draco's lap. "Have you no sense of personal boundaries?"

"Nope," Harry declared cheekily, staring up at Draco. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in a frown. "You have a birthmark under your chin," he announced, reaching up to trace it with his fingers.

"I'm aware," Draco replied; trying to hedge away from Potter's curious probing. "Potter, stop manhandling me. I'm trying to read."

"Let me see," Potter insisted, tipping Draco's chin up to get a look. The blond huffed but complied. Potter was just going to be stubborn again. In the past week or so, Draco had learnt to pick his battles. If he gave the man these little victories, he was more likely to get his way on more important things. He tried not to think about how that reasoning made him sound a lot like a wife.

"It looks a bit like a cat," Potter declared finally. He released Draco's chin and the blond stared down at him.

"Really," he drawled. Potter nodded, rather sure of his observation. "Definitely a cat," he reassured Draco.

"You're an imbecile," Draco retorted. "Now do you mind if I get back to reading? You can inspect me for blemishes some other time."

"Promise?" Potter smirked. Draco rolled his eyes and smacked the git with the book again.

"Spoilsport," Potter muttered. Draco grinned and returned to his book. And if his hand drifted to casually stroke at Harry's hair as he read, he didn't notice.

****

Draco woke abruptly and blinked in sleepy surprise. It was dark and he was still outside, sitting by the lake. And he was alone.

"Harry?" he mumbled anxiously. He was nowhere in sight. Draco pouted. Surely, Harry hadn't left him out here? Well, he might have. It was hardly a long walk to their room and perhaps he had just assumed that Draco would come back when he woke up. But still, the idea that Harry had just gone off without him hurt a bit.

"Hey. I didn't think you'd wake up so soon," a voice crooned softly. Draco started as Harry crouched next to him, looking concerned.

"Where were you?" he demanded, wishing he didn't sound so whiny.

Harry chuckled and thumbed his cheek lightly. "I went to see Slughorn. I was only gone a few minutes. I figured you'd still be asleep when I got back."

"You left me," Draco retorted sullenly. He was feeling rather petulant about it. "Why'd you go see Slughorn?"

Harry waved it off. "Nothing important; just thought I'd say hi. You were fast asleep so..."

"You should've woken me," Draco insisted.

"I couldn't," Harry grinned. "You just looked so... cute."

"You're really pushing it, Potter," Draco grumbled, trying to stand. His legs were stiff thanks to being cramped up all day and he couldn't quite get them to cooperate. He wobbled and almost collapsed, but Harry grabbed hold of him just in time. "Hang on," he advised, holding Draco upright.

The next second, Draco squeaked in alarm as he found himself hoisted up in his fiancé's arms and being carried back to his room. Out of instinct he wrapped his arms around the man's neck to steady himself. Potter chortled and hoisted him up, marching across the grounds effortlessly. Draco was not amused. "I am not your blushing bride!" he snapped, flushing with embarrassment.

"Could've fooled me," Potter snickered. "Merlin, you're light. Do you eat at all?"

"Put me down at once!"

"You can't walk, genius. It'll take you ages to get to the room and I'm not about to wait that long."

"Then go ahead. I'll walk up myself!"

Potter smirked at him. "You were sulking because I left you alone not two minutes ago," he pointed out smugly. "Admit it, Draco. You love it when I spoil you."

"I tolerate it," Draco sniffed. "Because you are a brute who never listens to reason."

"Well, tolerate it now. Because I'm your fiancé and I'm going to exercise the few - very few - privileges I have."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Very subtle, Potter. And you get enough privileges. I let you snog me and I don't throw things at you anymore."

"Lucky me," Potter groused. But he pulled Draco closer anyway, compelling the blond to rest against his shoulder. By the time they were in the room Draco was almost asleep again, lulled by the warmth of Harry's body and his solid presence.

He whined when he was laid out on the bed. Harry shushed him and tucked the blankets around him but he was cold again and he really didn't want to wake up in this big bed alone. Draco mumbled and tightened his grip around the man's neck. "Draco, let go," Potter whispered. "It's time to sleep now."

"Stay," Draco demanded.

"No," Harry replied firmly. "Come on, let go."

Draco held on mulishly and Harry sighed, trying to pry his fingers off. "Stop it, you brat. If I sleep here, you'll just kick up a fuss in the morning."

"I won't," Draco insisted. He looked up at Harry with imploring grey eyes and angled for his best pout. "Please, Harry? I'm cold."

Harry gaped at him, apparently torn. "That is really unfair," he declared finally.

Draco smirked and shifted over to make room. "You better remember this in the morning," Harry grumbled, slipping in beside him. He put his arms around Draco and pulled him closer. Draco curled into his chest with a sigh of contentment and closed his eyes.

Yes, Potter could have his little victories.

As long as Draco got his way on the important stuff.

****

It was a few days later when Harry pointed out that they should probably think about returning to their normal lives. Draco had found himself not entirely enthralled with the thought. Their brief time at Hogwarts had been pleasant - defying all his expectations - and he had grown to like it.

He had also grown to like Harry. That had definitely defied all his expectations.

At the very least, he certainly liked sleeping next to Harry. And snogging him. And waking up with him. And snogging him again.

Draco smiled to himself. At least, Harry would still be around, even if Hogwarts wasn't. Silver lining and all that...

He sauntered down the corridors, making his way to McGonagall's office. Harry had asked to meet him there so they could Floo back to his apartment. Draco of course, could have gone back to the Manor directly but he found himself wanting to spend some time with Harry before parting ways. They certainly wouldn't be sleeping in the same bed once he was back home. Or snogging whenever they liked. The thought made him pout.

His mental musings were interrupted by Slughorn who accosted him in the hallway. "Ah Mr Malfoy, just the man I've been looking for."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Professor Slughorn," he greeted amicably.

"Oh now. None of that, dear boy. It's Horace," Slughorn clucked. "You're hardly a student, after all."

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You were looking for me?" he reminded the dithering professor.

"Ah yes, of course. Glad I caught you right before you took off. I'm actually in the process of considering your application - impressive NEWT scores by the way, best I've ever seen. Anyway, you'll have to submit an original paper on a subject of your choice. Bothersome business I know, but it's required for your application. Of course, I'll be mailing you the acceptance as soon as you're finished and you can start right away, but..."

Draco blinked rapidly, getting more confused by the second. "I'm sorry, I don't think I follow. My... application, did you say?"

"For the Research Assistant Program, of course." Slughorn replied. "Your fiancé dropped it off last night. Charming lad, Harry is. I've known him for years. Have I congratulated you yet? Well of course, you have my fondest..."

"Harry put in an application for me?" Draco blurted. How had Harry even known that...

"Well, it certainly wasn't for him," Slughorn chuckled. "Marvellous boy but no talent for Potions. Pity. But he was most insistent that I consider you for the Program. Couldn't talk enough about your passion for the field. Now, about that paper, Mr Malfoy..."

Draco nodded blankly, completing tuning out the man's prattling. Harry had done this... for him. Hogwarts had one of the best research programs in the magical world. He hadn't even considered it, given his dismal luck with the internship. It was everything he could have hoped for and Harry had just given it to him. His chest fluttered almost painfully.

He mumbled a hasty goodbye to Slughorn, promising to send the paper in first thing next week. And then he took off, running full speed down the corridor to Harry.

****

They Flooed into Harry's flat, having bid McGonagall a brief but warm goodbye. The older witch had wished them her best and sent them on their way with a rare, fond hug. Harry stumbled and steadied himself while Draco landed on his feet, graceful as a cat. Grinning, he turned to the blond.

"Well it's not much but its home," he announced sheepishly. "Sorry about the mess. It's not like I have a house el - ack!"

Harry staggered and sprawled as Draco all but tackled him, wrapping his skinny arms around his neck and welding their lips together. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he flailed, and mercifully landed on the sofa with Draco on top of him. So this is what Draco felt like when he accosted him for a snog. Frankly, Harry couldn't see why he complained so much. It was fucking brilliant.

"What's... all this... about?" he managed to ask, between frantic kisses. Not that he was complaining at all, mind you. Draco halted his onslaught for a second, breaking away to look at Harry with dark, silver eyes. "Consider it a thank you," he said, arching against Harry and making him hiss. "For talking to Slughorn."

Harry's eyes glinted with understanding. "Found out about that, did you?" he grinned, wrapping a proprietary arm around Draco's waist and pushing their groins together. Draco whimpered in response, making his blood flare. "If this is the response I get, I'll make sure every sodding Potions Master in England has your résumé handy by next Tuesday."

Draco smirked. "One is enough, Potter," he drawled. His eyes softened as he regarded the man under him, the man who had done so much for him in such a short while. "Thank you," he whispered. "You didn't have to. But it's brilliant and I know the only reason I got it is because of you but it's..."

"Hey," Harry broke in softly, carding a hand through Draco's soft hair. "You deserve to be in that program. You're passionate and intelligent and while I don't completely understand why, you're mad about Potions. I'm just glad I could help." Draco flushed and buried his head in Harry's chest, making him chuckle. He tipped the blond's head back and smiled at him, eyes glinting with hidden mischief. "Now about the rest of my reward..."

Draco wasn't sure he could pull it off on a narrow couch. And yet, Harry surprised him once again. Quick as you please, he tipped them over so that Draco was under him. Harry growled and snaked a hand between their legs, cupping Draco's bits and squeezing lightly. The blond gasped and arched into him magnificently. "Brute," he panted, biting his lip.

Harry nearly came undone. With a snarl, he descended, intending to lick and kiss and suck at every inch of pretty, pale skin laid out under him. Draco moaned and his hands wound their way into his hair, clenching at it as Harry paused to suckle at his throat.

"Harry," Draco whispered urgently. "Harry, please..."

"Fuck" Harry groaned, wrestling with his shirt. He finally got the damn thing off and chucked it carelessly, immediately latching on to Draco's throat again. It was brilliant. It was spectacular. And he was finally going to shag his gorgeous...

"Harry James Potter! You better have a damn good excuse for what I just read in... Merlin's pants!"

Several things happened simultaneously. Draco went rigid as a board under him and then shoved him off. Harry yelped and fell on his arse. Ginny Weasley cowered in the corner, covering her eyes.

"I didn't see anything!" she announced, still shielding her eyes. "Nothing at all! Harry, put your shirt back on."

"Salazar's silk knickers! Ginny, what the hell?!" Harry growled, tugging his shirt on. Draco was gawking unabashedly at the woman and Harry swallowed as his eyes narrowed dangerously. Oh, this would not be good.

"Harry," he hissed. "What the hell is going on?"

"Um..." Well this was awkward. "Draco, you've met Ginny Weasley. Gin, this is Draco. My..."

"I know who she is!" Draco snapped, glaring at Ginny. "Why is she in your apartment?"

That, Harry conceded was an excellent question. And it just so happened that he had several of his own. "How did you get in?" he asked Ginny.

"Your wards went up. I'm spelled in to them, remember?" she snapped at him, throwing Draco a dirty look. "I heard them adjust as soon as you got back."

"Why is she spelled in to your wards?!" Draco practically snarled, pushing angrily at Harry. His eyes roved the apartment, and he stopped and cocked his head at an ornate, heavy lion statuette that Harry had acquired... somewhere. He Vanished it at once in case Draco got any bright ideas. Then, he turned to face the two people standing in his living room - both of whom he was rather fond of and who looked like they wanted to slaughter him in equal measure.

"I want to talk to you in private," Ginny gritted, looking about a hairs' breadth from throwing Bat Bogeys around.

"Whatever you want to say to my fiancé, you can damn well say it in front of me!" Draco snapped. Apparently, he had a point to prove because he marched up to Harry, grabbed him by the collar and smashed their lips together. Ginny shrieked and Harry floundered and flailed, sputtering into the kiss before finally managing to pull his jealous fiancé off him. "Okay, she gets it," he whispered, nipping affectionately at Draco's bottom lip. "I'm all yours."

"I'll brand you if I have to," he retorted. Harry grinned. He was pretty sure Draco wasn't joking. In the corner, Ginny cleared her throat meaningfully. She was not going to take no for an answer. Harry sighed.

"Just give me a minute, okay?" he murmured to Draco. The blond scowled and Harry gave him a pleading look. Draco sighed and nodded reluctantly. He shot Ginny an evil glare and then yanked at Harry's collar again, pressing their lips together for another kiss.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" Ginny cried out. Draco broke away from Harry, gave her a smirk and then sauntered over to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Harry faced his fuming friend, the tense silence thickening around them by the second. "So I've been reading the Prophet these past few days," Ginny announced in that saccharine, honeyed tone that always preceded great misfortune and pain. Harry cringed as her eyes narrowed. "Guess what I learnt? Apparently, that my best friend is not only seeing Draco Malfoy - prat extraordinaire - but is engaged to him and then skipped the bloody country!"

"I can explain?"

"Can you? Can you really?"

"Well..."

"Because I would love to hear it, Harry! Please do try to explain how you are not only engaged to that hellcat, but apparently you didn't see fit to tell me!"

"It's a long story," Harry mumbled. Ginny gave him the hands on her hips stance and glared him down. Harry cringed. "I'm sorry. It just happened so fast and, I was going to tell you! I will tell you. Just give me a little time to get Draco calmed down again."

Ginny gave him a rather impressive glower, before deciding that he'd had enough. "Dinner then" she declared. "We'll fix a date. You and Malfoy; I want the whole story. Every last detail."

"I promise," Harry declared fervently.

"Oh, and Ron and Hermione will be there," she smirked. "That's what you get for keeping secrets from me. If you thought I was bad, you're going to love Ron's reaction."

Harry groaned, but he supposed he deserved it. Ginny smiled and ruffled his hair - a peace offering. "You're happy?" she asked.

Harry hesitated but gave her a nod. "I am," he said quietly.

"Well then," Ginny shrugged. "I guess that's that. But don't think this is over, Harry. We're going to talk about this." She smiled at him. "Just not now. I'll see myself out." She gave him a wink as she left. "By the way, he's probably raving with jealousy right about now. If I were you, I'd be in there."

Harry chuckled as she left. She disappeared into the fireplace and he immediately bolted for his room. Draco was in his arms faster than he could blink. "Mine," he snapped, wrapping his legs around Harry and angling for a kiss. Harry grinned and collapsed on the bed, with his armful of writhing blond. And as Draco attacked his lips and neck and collarbone with unparalleled fervour, he resolved to have Ginny over more often.

****

The days passed in a blur of activity as Harry geared up for the first game of the season. He alternated every second of his day between gruelling practice, sleeping and shoving off reporters who accosted him for exclusive stories. Wood had been adamant that he get his head in the game, considering that they actually had a chance of making it to the Finals this season. So, Harry had fallen into practice with single-minded determination intent on acquiring the coveted Cup.

This left him with almost no free time to spend with Draco who by the way was not at all happy with this sudden change of circumstances. Of course, he had his own set of problems - working almost full time for the Hogwarts Program and decimating Howlers and assorted hate mail from the concerned public. The few times that he saw Harry, he was either too tired or too put off to make conversation. In fact, most times he wouldn't say anything at all. He would sulk in a corner when Harry visited, watching his fiancé read quietly for anything between ten to forty minutes. Then he would approach him and curl up on the man's chest, resuming his pouting. Harry would stroke his hair as he read, enjoying the semi comfortable silence until he got bored. Then he would snog Draco as if he'd been starving for him, not stopping until the blond was moaning and writhing. Lucius would make an appearance by this time and promptly kick him out, much to Draco's displeasure.

All in all, it wasn't so bad.

His day dreaming made him smile and the sudden blast of a loud whistle inches from his ear was a rather rude awakening.

"Fuck!" Harry swore, rubbing his abused ear and glaring at Wood. "What was that about?"

"You're not paying attention!" he claimed, gesturing wildly. "We have to go over the strategy pitch or we're going to lose against the Puddlemere Prats first game in the season! Now when you see the Snitch, I want you to..."

"Catch it?" Harry offered dryly.

"So you were listening. Brilliant! Now everyone get out there and give me a reason to break out the good Firewhisky tonight. Go Canons!"

Harry rolled his eyes and hoisted up his broom, following his whooping teammates out to the pitch. As always, the sight of the roaring crowd spilling over the stadium and the sea of flying banners made his blood pump and his head buzz with excitement. But a tug of nostalgia tempered his happiness. His lips tugged at the memory of that ridiculous match they'd had at Hogwarts. Jack's excitement and Billy Johnson's brazen flying and... and Draco laughing and taunting him with a smile on his lips and his graceful, easy flight and his sharp eye searching for the Snitch. It was the most fun he'd had in years.

Damn, he missed it. He missed him.

"The Cup, Harry," Heidi whispered to him. "We actually have a shot at it."

Harry nodded. He couldn't explain the sudden coil of unease wrapping around his stomach.

"This is it, Harry," Heidi murmured again. "Everything we've always wanted."

Harry's eyes hardened. "Everything we've always wanted," he agreed. Heidi smiled and mounted her broom. He followed after her, trying to ignore the little voice inside his head that insisted that there was something else. Something important. And that he was in danger of losing it forever.

****

"Twenty minutes!" Oliver shrieked, grabbing the disgruntled Puddlemere Captain and swinging him around. "Twenty fucking minutes into the game! That's my boy! Eat your heart out, Holmes!"

"Oh, sod off!" Holmes snapped, shrugging him off and storming off the pitch. Oliver turned and flashed a billion galleon grin at Harry, who gave him a half-hearted smile. The Snitch fluttered petulantly in his fingers.

"Good game, Potter," Zabini smirked. "It's nice to have a little competition for once." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and in true sportsman spirit, congratulated the rest of the team before taking off after his sulking captain.

Harry was immediately surrounded by a whooping, victorious sea of orange. "Next time give the rest of us a chance to play," Heidi said, giving him a congratulatory hug. Harry returned the gesture, smiling and laughing with his team. They cheered and whooped and made absolute arses of themselves and Harry watched them, half amused and half embarrassed. Frankly, they were worse than the kids at Hogwarts. That thought dredged up some unwanted feelings again and he excused himself, making a break for the locker rooms.

He didn't even realize he had been running until he screeched to a halt and slumped against a bench, panting, He felt... sick. The broomstick felt heavy in his hand and he let it fall with a clatter. The Snitch was still buzzing in his fingers and in a vicious surge of emotion that he couldn't quite understand, he chucked it away. It buzzed away, glinting like a gold bird in the sky. He needed to see Draco. He had to see him...

"And the conquering hero returns with spoils of war. Marvellous game, Potter. Fabulous form if I do say so myself," a voice drawled, uncomfortably close to him.

Harry gnashed his teeth and prayed for patience. Couldn't he just catch a break? "Go away, Rita," he retorted, sounding as hollow as he felt.

"No need to be sullen, Potter. I am simply offering my congratulations," she crowed, sidling next to him. Her acid green robes made him feel like retching and her Quill poked his arm uncomfortably. She gave him a sharp grin that reminded him vividly of a vulture he had once seen on Animal Planet. "And since I know how much you hate beating around the bush, let's just get to it. A quote for our readers, perhaps?"

"Talk to the Captain," Harry growled. He was in no mood for this. "Oliver makes the press appearances for the team, not me."

"Now don't be bashful, Potter. We both know that the public would much rather hear from you," she insisted, prodding him again with that blasted quill. "Tell me about your inspiration. If I may venture a guess it wouldn't be a certain blond, silver eyed devil that inspired those daring manoeuvres, would it?"

"Get out of my way!" Harry snarled. The force of his reaction seemed to shake Rita for a nano-second. Then her lips split in a shark like grin and she was back, hovering around him like a relentless mosquito. "Well, that's certainly not the reaction I expected, but do go on. This is writer's gold. Trouble in paradise, perhaps? Is Draco Malfoy's sordid past finally catching up to the two of you? Which reminds me, how exactly did an ex Death Eater manage to snare the Coveted Saviour of All Magical Kind? Or was it you who found yourself enamoured by his charms? I suppose spoils of war can be used in a several contexts, eh Potter? Did you perhaps..."

Harry had heard enough. He was shaking with rage and every poisoned word out of her mouth about Draco was spurring him to something drastic. He didn't even spare a thought for the repercussions as he turned and pointed his wand in her face. "Don't say another word," he intoned, his tone deathly quiet. "I mean it, Skeeter. One more misplaced word about my fiancé and you'll be spending the rest of your life in a glass jar. And I don't mean as the filthy dung beetle you are."

Rita lifted her chin, but he noted her hand tightening around the Quill. "I'm merely asking a question, Potter."

"No, you're making insinuations," Harry hissed. "Draco Malfoy is not a Death Eater. He is by far, the most brilliant, intelligent and upstanding person I have ever had the privilege of knowing and I will not have him slandered by the likes of you. So crawl back in your little hole, Skeeter. And tell that rag you call a paper - Harry Potter does not stand for idle gossip about the man he loves. Now for the last time, get out of my face or I'll make you."

"Fine," she drawled, backing away. "You win, Potter. We'll do this again when you're less homicidal."

Harry's jaw was tight and he willed himself not to hex her in the back as she sauntered away. Wearily, he slumped to the ground and held his head in his hands. His words rattled in the confines of his frayed mind.

Harry Potter does not stand for idle gossip about the man he loves.

The man he loves.

"Fuck," Harry whispered.

What had he done?

****

He wasn't entirely aware of Flooing into Malfoy Manor in the dead of the night. Honestly, with the amount of alcohol in his system, he was surprised he hadn't ended up in France or something. But here he was, swaying and stumbling his way to Draco's room, as if it were second nature.

He felt sick to his stomach and guilty as fuck, to boot. And he half felt like he had no right to be here at all, but it was cold and lonely and he wanted to see Draco. To touch him and kiss him and to assure himself that he was still there. Like a zombie, he made his way up the staircase and to Draco's room, thankful that Lucius was nowhere in the vicinity.

To his credit, he made it to the door before stumbling. His head thunked against the wood as he fell and he was on his back, blinking blearily when Draco opened the door. The blond stared down at him, his beautiful mouth twisted in a smirk that was half amusement and half annoyance.

"Too much celebration, Potter?" he asked, kneeling down next to Harry. Harry smiled and trailed a hand through his hair. "You're so beautiful," he mumbled. He felt better. Draco was here.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right, clearly too much. Come on then, let's get you inside before Father has an aneurism." He grabbed hold of Harry by his wrists and pulled him up, nearly stumbling as the taller man all but leaned into him. "Pretty Blondie," Harry cooed, wrapping his arms around him. Draco felt nice and warm against his chest and he didn't ever want to let go.

"Remind me to hex you for saying that in the morning," Draco drawled, tugging him inside. It was considerably difficult to shepherd Harry around, but he managed it. He pushed him gently on the bed and Harry landed with a muffled oof.

"Oh, stop fussing," Draco snipped, tugging his shoes off. "Maybe tomorrow's hangover will teach you not to drink so much."

"We won the match," Harry felt obliged to explain. "I caught th' Snitch in twenty minutes."

"And I'm very proud of you," Draco chuckled, pressing a kiss to his head. "But look at the state you're in. Honestly Harry, sometimes you act like you're still fifteen."

"I missed you," Harry mumbled. He grabbed hold of Draco's arm and tugged. The blond careened into him with a surprised gasp, tumbling into Harry's chest. He scowled at Harry who blinked back in response. Draco's eyes softened.

"I missed you too, you absolute neanderthal," he chided, brushing Harry's hair back. "But you should know better than to get completely sloshed. Now come on, lift up your arms. I'm going to take your shirt off."

"Sorry, cutie. I'm taken. Engaged, actually," Harry retorted. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled the shirt off with a swift tug.

"Roll over," he ordered. Harry pouted. He wanted to look at Draco more, maybe call him pretty again. But the blond was insistent and with a little help, he rolled over on his stomach surrendering to his tender mercies. He tensed slightly, when Draco straddled his back. His long legs brushed Harry's sides and the Gryffindor's brow furrowed in confusion. What was he... then long, capable fingers traced his spine and Harry sighed. Draco kneaded his back, working diligently to soothe the tightened muscles. His movements were smooth and practiced and Harry found himself relaxing against the gentle pressure on his abused frame.

"Feel better?" Draco murmured softly. He was working on Harry's shoulder blades, soothing away the tension in his stressed, drawn muscles.

"Perfect," Harry moaned. "Can you go a little lower? Just a... oh yeah. Right there."

Draco laughed and obliged him. Harry sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. "I figured you'd need this," the blond commented. "I read about your little standoff with Skeeter in the Evening Prophet. Did you really threaten to disembowel her if she spoke ill of me?"

Harry felt anger flare in his gut again. "She said you were spoils of war," he muttered.

Draco laughed again. "Well, that's certainly a creative way of looking at it. Can't say I'm completely opposed to the idea myself but..."

"Don't talk like that!" Harry growled, getting up abruptly. He tipped Draco over and prowled over him, glowering at the surprised blond. "Never talk like that," Harry repeated. His body was shaking and he felt like a hundred emotions were battling their way out of him right now...

"Harry?" Draco murmured tentatively, stroking his cheek.

"She can't talk about you like that," Harry declared. "No one can."

"Harry, it's okay. I don't care about..."

"It's not okay!" Harry burst out. "You're not something I acquired. You're beautiful and brilliant and you don't deserve to be spoken of that way. You deserve someone who takes care of you and puts up with your crazy obsession for passion fruit cocktails and loves you! Without any condition. Just... love."

Draco looked confused, and somewhat scared. His eyes were wide and silver and they seemed to burn a hole right through Harry. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he all but whispered. "I just... I can't..."

"Tell me," Draco replied quietly. "I'm here, Harry. I'll listen."

Harry felt his throat clench and his stomach twist. Guilt, the likes of which he had never imagined threatened to surge inside and choke the very life out of him. Draco was under him, his gaze reflecting iron clad trust and conviction. And he had failed him. He had betrayed this beautiful person. Bought his way into Draco's life for a shot at a cheap trophy. Used him. Deceived him. And what was worse, he couldn't even tell him. He couldn't face up to it, because the idea of losing Draco terrified him. Harry couldn't imagine a day without him, let alone a lifetime. And if he said anything at all, Draco would leave. His pride wouldn't stand for this. How had things become so fucked up? How had he allowed this to happen? Despair washed over him. All he had was lie after lie after lie. Draco deserved so much more. He deserved better than a fucking cheat who had...

"Harry, please," Draco sounded alarmed now, almost frantic. "You're scaring me. Just... just tell me what it is. I'll help you, Harry. I'll be here. Please, I... I love you, Harry."

Harry almost sobbed out aloud. He couldn't. Those words shattered the fragile semblance of courage that he had dredged up. His guilt and his pain and everything else couldn't measure up to losing Draco. Knife twisting in his gut, he choked back his tears and smiled down at his beautiful fiancé. "I love you too," he whispered. "I love you so much, Draco."

"Are you... is that what this is all about?" Draco asked, visibly relaxing.

Harry nodded, feeling like scum. Draco huffed and smacked his chest half-heartedly. "Idiot," he snapped. "You scared the life out of me!"

"I can't lose you," Harry mumbled against his cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," Draco murmured, wrapping his arms around him. "I admit I wasn't entirely happy with how things started out between us. But... but you've been wonderful, Harry. You've been kind and considerate and you... you take care of me. When I'm with you, I don't want anything to change ever. I love you."

He felt better. Better than he deserved, he knew. But Draco's fervent words were a balm to his wrecked conscience and he chose to be selfish just this once. "Let me stay," he pleaded. "I want to be next to you. Please, I can't... I can't go home right now."

"Hush," Draco murmured, pressing his lips to Harry's forehead. "No one is going to make you leave, Harry. I'm right here. Right here next to you. I'm yours forever, okay?"

Harry nodded numbly and Draco smiled. "Good. Now get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

And as he pulled Draco closer and curled into him, Harry did just that. Things would look better in the morning. He knew they would. He had Draco.

****

Draco came to his next match. He sat in the stands and he put up with hisses of protest and clicking cameras and resentful mutterings. He ignored distasteful comments and cheered for Harry. It wasn't easy or pleasant but he did it. And Harry loved him even more for it, if such a thing was possible.

His eyes narrowed in on a glint of golden light at the end of the pitch. By pure instinct, he took off like a bolt of lightning, chasing it down. He could feel the Harpies Seekers' relentless pursuit and the crowd blurred around him. He had to catch the Snitch. Draco was out here putting up with shite for him. The least he could do was not let him down.

The Snitch hedged to the right in a flutter. His opponent saw it first and jagged across the pitch. With a howl of frustration, Harry gave chase. She was well ahead of him and his only hope was offense. Harry made up his mind. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

He swooped around until he was bearing to the left. The turbulence nearly threw him off balance but the decrease in drag enabled a much faster flight. She was inches away and just as her hand reached out to grab the snitch, he swooped above her and pulled off the twist. Her eyes widened in surprise as Harry almost but not quite knocked into her and she lurched in mid-air, barely steadying herself and keeping from falling. It was one millisecond of an advantage, and it was all he needed to snatch the Snitch right out of the air.

A perfectly executed Malfoy Manoeuvre.

The crowd howled and Harry raised his fist in triumph, bearing the Snitch. It was his. He swooped around the pitch, his eyes raking the crowd for the one person he wanted to see.

Even in the mass of thousands, Draco's blond hair was easily visible. Harry grinned and flew down to him, ignoring the referee's whistle. Draco laughed as he hovered above him, eyes shining with mirth and delight. "Tell me you didn't just do that," he managed, incredulity lacing his voice.

Harry grinned and shrugged in answer. "For you," he declared, presenting the snitch to Draco. The camera flashes around them almost blinded him and the crowd's disapproving rumble surged. For a second, Draco hesitated. He gazed up at Harry with doubt in his silver eyes, and Harry's jaw tightened. "They can all fuck off for all I care," he declared. "Every day with you is worth it."

Draco's brilliant smile was everything he could have ever hoped for. The blond took the Snitch and Harry grabbed his wrist, tugging him forward. "Let's give the bastards something to write about," he whispered against his lips.

Draco closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. A thousand cameras went off around them.

And Harry truly didn't give a fuck.

****

"I won't do it," Andromeda declared, lifting her chin stubbornly. Her entire body was rigid and her cheeks were tinted with a rosy blush. Her arms were crossed, giving her the look of something both alluring and vulnerable. Lucius liked it.

He smirked unrepentantly and waved The Prophet in her face. The image of Potter glued to his son's mouth - nauseating as it was - only served to prove his point. "We had a deal, my dear," he drawled. "Surely you don't mean to go back on it? Where is your sense of honour?"

"But..."

"But nothing, Andromeda. It was a most specific wager. You were utterly dismissive of my genius." Andromeda responded with a rather unladylike snort which he chose to ignore. "Your exact words I believe were that this would blow up in my face. Well, see for yourself. Draco is obviously happy and the marriage is secure. My... delicate engineering of circumstance has not left anyone worse for wear. I think it is time for you to bow down gracefully and accept defeat."

Andromeda glanced at The Prophet reluctantly. "They do seem happy," she admitted softly. Then recalling her predicament, she scowled at her smirking companion. "But that does not mean I am compelled to indulge your outrageous demands!"

"Fair is fair, my sweet," Lucius smirked. "You lost the wager. Now pay your dues."

Andromeda flushed, utterly mortified. "Lucius, please! I... it's been so long. I haven't... not since Ted..."

Lucius' face softened and he held out a hand. "I'll take you through it," he promised. She hesitated and he felt compelled to voice a plea. "Please, Andromeda. I just want it so much." Those silver eyes seemed to look right through her. Andromeda teetered, before finally giving in. "You are a manipulative cad," she declared, placing a shaky hand in his large, firm one. The contact made her cheeks flare, but Lucius looked stoic and marble like as ever. Still, the warmth reached his eyes as he gazed at her.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully. "Please, follow me."

Andromeda willed her shaking limbs to follow him. He led her to the centre of the almost bare room and she gasped softly. "I... I can't, Lucius. I..."

"It's alright," he soothed immediately. "I promise it will be wonderful. Please, come here."

She stepped closer to him. The scent of expensive cologne washed over her. Andromeda took a shuddering breath and placed a shaking hand on Lucius' shoulder. He sighed softly - almost in relief, it seemed - and placed a gentle hand on the small of her back. The warm weight settled her somewhat and she felt almost calm.

"Ready when you are," she whispered.

Lucius smiled and raised his wand. The music spell washed over the room and Andromeda sighed as the soothing melody of La Serenade wash over her. Lucius moved and she followed gracefully, melting into his larger frame as he led her with ease and precision. She laughed out as he executed a playful spin and twirled back in his arms gracefully.

"I can see why you missed ballroom dancing so much," she smiled as he turned her around gently and enveloped her in his arms. "You're brilliant."

"You make me brilliant," he replied softly. "And for that, I thank you." His fingers flexed against her back, as if he wanted to pull her closer. Andromeda smiled softly and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning against his chest. She closed her eyes, basking in warm contentment as Lucius continued to sway her to the music.

Neither noticed two pairs of eyes, watching from the foyer with apparent amusement.

"Bit of a shock?" Harry enquired, not entirely able to read the blond's blank expression.

Draco scoffed. "It's a relief actually. They've been tip-toeing around each other for years. Oh, remind me to talk to Blaise, will you? He owes me ten galleons."

Harry gave him a playful shove which Draco returned. As silently as they had entered, they padded away. Inside, La Serenade played on and Lucius Malfoy smiled as he held a wonderful woman in his arms once again.

****

The Dinner, as Harry had started dubbing it in his head had seemed near impossible at first. Draco had kicked up a fuss of epic proportions of course, and had flat out refused to go if she would be there. It had taken the better part of an hour to convince him that Harry had no interest in Ginny Weasley save that of a friend.

"I see the way you talk," Draco grumbled, crossing his arms defensively. "All the inside jokes and the laughing and the flirting... and don't you tell me there's no flirting. I'm not blind, Potter. And the..."

"That's just how it is!" Harry squawked, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "Look, Ginny is... we were together and I admit at one point, I couldn't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else. But that was a very long time ago," he added hurriedly as Draco growled. "She's my friend and my friends are important to me. You have to understand that."

"Just a friend?" Draco had asked suspiciously.

"Just a friend," Harry grinned, kissing his forehead. "Think of her as my Zabini."

He hadn't expected Draco's eyes to light up with intent speculation. "She is, isn't she?"

"What?" Harry demanded.

"Nothing," Draco replied, a slow grin breaking out on his pale face. "I just had an idea. Will you excuse me? I need to send an owl..."

****

Soon, they were seated in an up end Lounge on the ritzy side of Diagon Alley. Draco had chosen the location and Harry was thankful. The décor was sophisticated but intimate. And security was tight so reporters couldn't bother them. That was where his happiness ended though.

Hermione sat across from them, twirling a strand of hair uncomfortably in her fingers. Now and then, she gave them polite smiles, but mostly her eyes drifted to Draco eyeing him quizzically. Ron just looked like he had swallowed a lemon. Ginny sat beside Draco, apparently trying to smoke her lungs out. At least she was valiantly trying to make conversation and even managed to engage Draco once in a while. Harry could have kissed her.

"Excuse me," Ron broke in, apparently unable to take it. "Just checking, but are we seriously going to sit here all night and not talk about the erumpent in the room?"

"Excellent point, brother mine. There are questions that need answering," Ginny quipped, turning to Harry and Draco. "Like, where's this hot date of mine you promised? Or am I going to have to ask that fine, young fellow at the bar if he likes it on the rocks?"

Harry and Hermione chuckled and even Draco let out a surprised bark of laughter. "Ginny!" Ron yelped, covering his ears. "I swear to Merlin, we're getting you married next!"

"Sod off, Ronniekins," she smirked, releasing a spire of smoke. "Nobody's taking me down without a fight."

"Sound familiar, Draco?" a voice drawled behind them. The small gathering turned in unison, watching as a suave, well-dressed man approached them.

"You're late, you heathen," Draco drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Your date was about to go bartender hunting."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Blaise replied, giving Ginny an appreciative once over. "Hello, Red."

The young witch gave him a challenging look in return and flicked her cigarette. "Zabini. Just passing through?" she asked, hopefully.

Blaise's eyes lit up in unmistakable interest and he immediately moved over to where she was sitting. "Not anymore, he declared ardently. Budge over, princess."

"Make yourself at home," Ginny replied blithely. She got up and slipped past him effortlessly. "I want to dance. Care to escort a lady to the floor, handsome?"

Draco blinked in surprise as he realized she was talking to him. Blaise glared at him as if it was his fault and Draco rolled his eyes. "I'd be delighted," he drawled, taking her arm and leading her away.

Blaise slid in next to Harry, watching the retreating witch with an interest just bordering on this side of hungry. "Firefly," he drawled, half to himself.

"Down, boy," Harry intoned dryly. Blaise grinned at him and ordered a drink. "So Weasley, Granger - make any new kids lately?"

****

"So you and Harry," Ginny said, as he swirled around with her. She was light and dainty in his arms and moved with a natural grace. He could see how Harry had fallen hard for her. Their easy relationship still made him somewhat nervous, but he was slowly coming to the grudging conclusion that he had nothing to fear from this young woman. She seemed genuinely concerned for Harry's well-being. But she had also gone out of her way to make him feel welcome in their midst. He found he rather liked her flippant manners and easy charm. "What about us?" he asked.

"I'm happy for you," she replied. "I think you're good for him."

"Thanks," he replied sceptically. He didn't really agree. Harry was happy with him, but it didn't mean he was good for him. The Press, for one thing had been horrible. Harry had faced a lot of nasty commentary in the past, but nothing came close to the catastrophe their engagement had wrecked. And he admitted that sometimes he feared it would be too much for both of them to handle.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

"Not really."

"You should. He smiles more with you. He talks and laughs. And it feels like he's finally going after the things that make him happy. He's better and apparently that's all on you."

Draco smiled at her, feeling genuinely grateful. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Of course if you hurt him, I'll be toasting your bollocks on an open flame and serving them with French vinaigrette."

He rolled his eyes. "Charming. And no, I don't plan to hurt him. He's... been good for me too."

Ginny grinned. "Brilliant. Now dip me. And make sure Zabini sees."

Draco grinned and obliged. Her laughter echoed in the room and from the corner of his eye, he saw Harry grinning at them. Blaise however, was marching up to them with a determined tic in his jaw.

"My turn, Blondie," he groused, disengaging Draco easily and sweeping the petite girl up. "Go dance with your husband for a while."

Draco returned Ginny's mischievous wink and backed away, giving them space to twirl away. He turned, nearly running into Harry as he did. He looked up into brilliant green eyes and grinned.

"One of these days Potter, I will catch you sneaking up on me."

"Keep telling yourself that," Harry retorted. His hand stroked Draco's hip tentatively. "Dance with me?" he whispered.

And Draco did.

****

Harry leaned on a lamppost in the Alley, trying to collect his thoughts. It was quiet and he could hear faint laughter inside.He had excused himself for a few minutes. Draco and Hermione were managing atentative if slightly stilted conversation and Ron was still sulking, but things could certainly be worse.

He just wished he could get rid of this gnawing... feeling inside of him. Guilt clawed at him constantly, making every minute with Draco torture.It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Every day, he was lying to Draco and it was playing havoc on his conscience. How had he become this person? How had...

"Knut for your thoughts?" Ginny said, slipping beside him.

Harry smiled at her. "Tired of dancing?"

She lit a cigarette in response and Harry rolled his eyes. "What's your excuse?" she asked.

"I'm just... just wanted a little space for awhile."

"Space," she repeated ominously. "There's a loaded word."

"No. It's nothing. I'm... I just..."

"Harry." She frowned and put a firm hand on his shoulder. "I asked you before, and I'm asking you again. What aren't you telling me?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. He felt completely lost. Ginny's eyes sparked with realization. "There's something," she asked quietly."Tell me and I'll try to help."

Harry gave her a beseeching look, pleading with her not to judge him. She nodded firmly, and her grip tightened reassuringly.Harry took a deep breath. "Okay," he mumbled. "Remember when I..."

"Salazar's Slimy Serpent! Is everyone out to steal my date?"

Harry's heart sank as Blaise marched over to them, giving Ginny a cheeky wink. She huffed. "Is there no escaping you?" she asked dryly.

"Said the firefly to the spider," he drawled.But there was an edge in that easy tone and Harry recognized the sharp glint in the man's gaze. Blaise gave him a hard look before turning his attention over to Ginny again. "So how about we say our goodbyes to this sorry lot and I'll step into your parlour?"

"In your dreams, Zabini," she replied.

"Suit yourself. By the way," His wrist flicked -as swift as a garden snake - and he plucked the cigarette from her lips."Smoking is bad for you, Red."

Ginny huffed and stomped back inside. Zabini watched her leave, making sure she was well out of sight before turning to Harry. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, his tone calm and measured.

Harry sneered at him. "What do you think, Zabini?"

"I'll venture a guess and say that your original plans of courting Draco for the Cup have undergone a drastic re-design."

Harry glared at him, but said nothing. Zabini tutted and studied his fingernails. "Of course they have. And let's see if I have this right. I'll wager that right about now, your blasted moral compass is doing a fantastic impression of the Wronski Feint. So - and this is the fun part Potter - your master plan is to confess to your dishonour and...hmm... just help me out here. Exactly what's going to happen after that?"

Harry wrenched his hair in frustration. "I don't know!" he spat. "I don't know and I don't care! I can't live with this anymore.Every time I look at him, every time he smiles at me I feel like... like... I can't do it anymore. I have to tell him. I have to make him see that..."

Zabini's bark of laughter cut him off. "See what? That the only thing you saw in him was a passport to your own ambition?That he doesn't mean anything to you except an easy ticket to the Big Leagues?That all he ever meant to you was..."

"That's not true!" Harry shouted, clenching a this wand. His finger nails were digging into his palm, drawing blood.

"Draco won't see it like that!" Zabini snapped back. "When he hears that... when you tell him that you bought your way into his life for a couple broomsticks and a shiny new uniform, it's going to crush him! He'll break, Potter! Do you understand that? Is that what you want?"

"No," Harry choked out. He was shaking like a leaf at the very thought of it. "I love him," he whispered.

"Then be a man and carry your own damn burden,"Zabini replied quietly. "You did this. He shouldn't have to suffer." He brushed past Harry and walked away,leaving him in the darkness.

Harry took a couple of deep, painful breaths -trying to calm his speeding heartbeat. Zabini was right. This was his burden and he had no right to hurt Draco to ease his own guilt.

But that didn't mean he couldn't set things right, did it? With a sigh, he gathered himself and followed Zabini back inside.

He didn't notice the innocuous looking beetle perched on the window ledge behind him. Nor did he see the beetle scurry off into an alley and transform into a reedy, bespectacled woman with a grin the size of New Hampshire.

"Got you, Potter," she whispered gleefully.