Fic: That Love Thing (Harry Potter, Harry/Draco, 11,750 words, FRAO, 2/2)

[rsadelle]

Part 1

"Tell me something about your childhood," Draco asked drowsily on a night when he'd woken Harry up.

Harry eyed his barely visible form warily. "Why?"

Draco kissed his temple "Why not?" Harry didn't answer. "I'm not going to use it against you. I just want to know."

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "When I was about eight years old, my cousin and his friends were chasing me around the school, and I just wanted to get away. One minute I was on the ground, and the next I was on the roof of the school kitchens." Harry brushed his fingers up the inside of Draco's elbow. "Hermione thinks I must have Apparated."

Draco made a surprised sound in the back of his throat. "You are a powerful wizard." He nuzzled Harry's neck. "I've never heard of anyone else who could Apparate at age eight."

Harry shrugged against Draco. "I don't think it's Apparating if you don't really decide where you're going."

"You directed yourself to another place using magic," Draco said, still nuzzling at Harry.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe," he said. "I don't really know what happened."

"You're powerful," Draco murmured.

"That's what people tell me."

"I've been around powerful wizards all my life," Draco said in a voice so low and intimate it made Harry shiver. "Not one of them was even half as powerful as you."

Harry reached back and stroked Draco's hip. "Let me sleep," he said. "I have to work in the morning."

"Mmm." Draco pressed a kiss into his hair. "I like your power," he said.

Harry stirred restlessly against him, but Draco stopped talking and soothed him back into relaxation.

***

Hermione ushered the last person out and turned on Harry with a sharp gleam in her eyes. "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered. He busied himself brewing a fresh pot of tea.

Harry tried in vain to control his blush. "What makes you think that?"

"You are," Hermione crowed. She leaned forward. "What's he like?"

"Hermione, you know him."

"Not like you do," she shot back. "I'm glad," she said seriously. "It's doing you good. You look better and you've gained a little weight." She grinned. "He must be feeding you."

"Sometimes." Harry didn't tell her that more often than not, it was he and not Draco who went out for the takeaway they so often ate. He didn't tell her, either, that Draco had taught him to enjoy cooking, or to enjoy, at least, cooking a few simple dishes.

"Come on," Hermione wheedled. "What's it like to be Draco Malfoy's lover?"

"Don't you have your own love life to worry about?"

Hermione shot a reproachful glance at Ron. "*My* love life seems to be on hold at the moment."

Ron ignored her. "What does Malfoy say about our plan?" he asked Harry.

"He's supposed to meet his father in London for dinner two weeks from Thursday. We'll need to arrange it so that the only other people in the place are Aurors."

Hermione drew a scroll out of some pocket in her robes and borrowed a quill from Harry's desk. "Where are they meeting?"

"The Green Wand."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "That's so pretentious."

Ron snorted. "It's the Malfoys. Of course it's pretentious."

Harry yanked the conversation back on topic. "Are there any known alliances between the Green Wand and Voldemort or his followers?"

Hermione shrugged. "Not really. They sympathize only because so much of their income comes from Death Eater families. If we pay them enough, though, we can seed the place with Aurors for an evening."

Harry nodded grimly. "Do it."

***

"And will you gentlemen be wanting any dessert?" the waiter asked them.

Lucius took the menu from him and began to peruse it.

Draco took it from his hands and handed it back to the waiter. "We won't be having dessert."

Lucius took the menu back. "Draco," he said disapprovingly, "I would like some dessert."

"I'm afraid there isn't time for that," Ron said from behind him. "Mr. Malfoy, if you'd please come with us." It was not a request.

Lucius turned to find Ron, Hermione, and Harry behind him. "I'll do no such thing," he said, reaching for his wand.

"Accio wand," Hermione murmured, bringing Lucius' wand to her hand. "Please, Mr. Malfoy. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be." She tipped her chin to indicate the rest of the room. "The place is filled with Aurors."

Lucius calmly allowed them to clap the magical manacles on his wrists. "There are others who will continue to fight you," he said, his head held high.

Draco moved to stand next to Harry. "But not as many as you think, Father."

Lucius' eyes widened in shock. "You?" Then he realized what was going on and grew angry. "You were behind this," he said flatly.

Draco met his father's eyes squarely. "Yes." He smiled tightly. "Mother won't be able to go to Azkaban for you this time."

Lucius' eyes narrowed. "That's why you did this." It wasn't a question.

"No," Draco said grimly. "I did this because my father taught me that Malfoys are masters, not servants. I will not bow down to your Dark Lord."

For the first time in his life, Draco saw his father speechless.

Hermione and Ron, accompanied by some of the other Aurors, led Lucius away. Harry turned to Draco.

"Do you want to come home with me?"

"Yes." Draco blinked and seemed to actually see Harry. "There's an alleyway out back. We can Disapparate from there."

Harry followed Draco through the restaurant and out into the alley. They Disapparated and reappeared in Harry's living room.

"Do you want?" Harry asked, not knowing how to finish the question.

"Yes," Draco answered, reaching for him.

Harry responded to his kisses. He undressed Draco as they moved down the hall and entered him slowly when they made it to the bed.

***

Hermione was polite as she said good-bye to the last of their coworkers, but it was obvious that she was just itching for them to go. As soon as they were gone, she let the smile burst across her face.

"Look!" She held out her left hand to Harry while Ron boiled water for more tea. Harry took her hand to examine the small diamond on a gold band on her finger.

"We're engaged!"

Harry glanced at Ron whose skin was turning a shade of red that did not compliment his hair. He grinned at both of them.

"Congratulations!" Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione in a tight hug. He beamed at Ron who had finally put the kettle down. "Congratulations!" he said again.

Ron came forward for a quick hug. "I had to ask her before someone else did," he muttered.

Harry grinned at him. "It's about time."

Ron blushed and muttered something else about girlfriends and dropped hints. He briefly tangled his fingers with Hermione's before he poured tea for the three of them.

Hermione gestured Ron and Harry into chairs and offered them biscuits from the tin she didn't share with anyone else.

"How's Malfoy?" she asked Harry.

The biscuit soured in his mouth. "Dunno. I haven't really seen him."

Hermione gave him a sharp look.

Harry shrugged. "Really. I think he was there one night, but he didn't wake me up."

"Hmm. Well, the Ministry is always here for him," Hermione said primly.

"I'll be sure to pass that along," Harry said dryly. "As soon as I see him again," he said more sadly.

Hermione patted his knee. "I'm sure he'll be back." She pulled out a piece of parchment. "When he does come back, would you give him this?" She handed the parchment to Harry. "It's a standard agreement to testify. We won't prosecute him for anything he admits to while testifying against his father."

Harry glanced over the scroll before rerolling it and tucking it into his robes. "I'll give it to him next time he shows up," he promised.

"He'll be back," Hermione said again. She smiled serenely at him and touched the ring on her finger.

***

Hermione was right, as usual. Draco did show up again, and instead of the sense he'd gotten once or twice more that Draco had been and gone while he slept, Harry woke up in the middle of the night to find Draco sitting on the edge of his bed.

"There's a scroll." Harry groped on the night table for it. "From Hermione." His fingers closed over the roll of parchment. He handed it to Draco. "She says the Ministry is here for you."

"How nice of her." Draco sounded distracted as he glanced over the scroll.

Harry watched him blearily. Without his glasses, Draco appeared to Harry as just a pale blur in the darkness.

"I missed you."

"Mmm." Harry couldn't tell if that was agreement or commentary, but Draco bent down and kissed him.

He curved his hand around the back of Draco's head and held him there for a second kiss when Draco would have pulled away. He rested one hand on Draco's thigh. "Come t' bed."

Draco brushed his cheek with the fingers of one hand. "All right." He slowly pulled away from Harry and stood up. There was a rustling as he took off his clothes, and then he was sliding, naked and warm, between the sheets and into Harry's arms.

"I'm glad you're here," Harry murmured.

Draco kissed him again. Harry found that reassuring enough to relax.

When he woke up in the morning the bed was cold and both Draco and the scroll were gone.

***

"Wake up." Lips brushed against Harry's ear. "Come on, Harry."

He blinked into the darkness. "Can't you ever come to visit during the day?"

Draco laughed softly. "I like you like this." He bent over Harry and kissed him deeply.

Harry reached up to wrap his arms around Draco. "You might like me in the daytime too." He pulled Draco down to settle on top of him.

Draco slid a hand between them and down Harry's body. "I might."

Harry kissed him wetly. "You would." There was something nagging at him, but he let things progress until Draco was mostly naked. "Wait," he said.

Draco stroked his face. "What?"

"What you said." Harry groped for it. "About your mother."

Draco's hands stilled. "My mother." His voice was flat.

It was clear to Harry now. "You said she went to Azkaban for your father."

"Did I?" The stillness of his body belied his calm.

"Yes, you did." Harry brushed Draco's cheek. "Did she kill Joshua Davis?"

"No. My father killed him." Draco pushed Harry back down as he struggled to sit up.

"If she didn't do it--"

Draco interrupted. "She did enough." He slid his hands firmly across Harry's face and pushed his hair back. "She killed other people. A lot of other people. If you let her out, my father will find a way to get instructions to her and she'll go on carrying out his dirty work."

"How do I know you're not carrying out his dirty work for him?"

Draco's hands gentled in Harry's hair. "The door wouldn't let me into your office if I were."

"You've only been to my office once."

"Then you'll just have to trust me." Draco bent down and kissed Harry. "Justice is being served." He kissed Harry again, gentler. "It is," he said earnestly. "Trust me."

Harry let Draco kiss and stroke him into silence.

***

"Lucius Malfoy, you have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgement on you. You stand accused of practicing the Dark Arts in aid of Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort." Minister Neal looked down on Lucius. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Lucius remained stubbornly silent, but his eyes roamed the room. They stopped and fixed on one person seated high in a corner.

Harry fought down his impulse to grip Draco's hand, knowing that would only make things worse, and shifted slightly closer to him instead. Draco shifted back, too slowly to be noticed, until their thighs were pressed together.

"The jury will now vote," Neal intoned. "All those who believe Lucius Malfoy deserves a life sentence in Azkaban, please raise your hands." The jurors, every last one, raised their hands.

Neal nodded to the dementors who took Lucius back through the door in the corner. As soon as he was gone, there was a rustle of movement and conversation before Neal called the next case. Harry reached out and took Draco's hand.

Draco looked down at their joined hands, then back up at Harry's face. "Your place," he said.

Harry nodded and let go of his hand. He waited for Draco to Disapparate before he followed. When he Apparated into his flat, Draco was already halfway down the hall. Harry followed, watching Draco pull off his robes as he went. Harry picked them up and dropped them in a heap on the chair just inside his bedroom door. He added his own robes to the pile and crawled into bed with Draco.

Draco turned into Harry's arms and pressed his face into Harry's neck. Harry could feel him shaking. He couldn't find any words to say, and so he just held Draco as tight as he could.

***

"We're here," Harry called as he opened the door.

With Lucius safely imprisoned in Azkaban, Harry had been able to coax Ron and Hermione to his apartment for lunch with Draco.

Draco came out of the kitchen with a smile. "Hello. Let me take your cloaks." He hung their cloaks in the closet and invited them in to sit at the table. "Would you like a drink? We have beer, wine, and pumpkin juice."

"I'll have pumpkin juice, please," Hermione said.

"Beer for me," said Ron.

"Harry?"

Harry smiled up at him. "Whatever you're having."

"Beer it is, then." Draco went into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with their drinks. "Sure you don't want a beer too, Hermione?"

"No, thank you," she said, but she stole a sip of Ron's when he set it down.

Draco flashed her a grin. He murmured an incantation and, with an accompanying flick of his wand, brought their food floating in from the kitchen.

Harry watched Draco watch Ron and Hermione as they took their first bites.

"This is really good." Ron couldn't quite hide his surprise.

Hermione threw him a disapproving glance. "It's excellent," she said to Draco.

"Thank you," Draco said with a slight smirk. Harry caught his eye, and his smile became a little more genuine.

"How was the Cannons game?" Harry asked after a few bites.

Ron brightened. "It was brilliant!" His face drooped a little. "They lost, but it was still a good match," he said philosophically.

"Of course they lost," Draco said disparagingly. "They lose to the *Harpies*."

"The Harpies," Hermione said quellingly, "are a perfectly respectable team."

"They used to be," Draco said, "before Wilhelmina Whisp retired. They haven't had a decent coach since."

"I suppose you like the Falcons," Ron said disparagingly.

Draco sniffed. "Of course not. The Magpies."

"The Magpies?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Of course." Draco looked steadily at Harry. "They're an excellent team."

"They're all flash," Ron objected.

"Nonsense," Draco said. "They play an excellent game of Quidditch. They have the most cohesive group of Chasers of any team in the League, if not the world."

"The Cannons have good Chasers," Ron protested.

"The Cannons' Chasers have never passed a Quaffle in their life," Draco said over the rim of his beer mug.

Ron was now a rather violent shade of red. "They have so!" he said hotly.

Harry shot Draco a warning glance--Hermione was giving Ron a similar look--and watched Draco swallow back his comment.

"And you, Harry?" Draco asked. "What's your team?"

"Puddlemere United," he said.

"Honestly," said Hermione. "Just because Oliver plays for them."

"He's a very good Keeper," Harry argued.

"He's very good-looking," Hermione countered.

"They're a good team," Harry said doggedly.

"Bit flashy," Ron said around a mouthful of his meat pie.

"The ability to win," Draco said, "does not automatically make a team 'flashy'."

"Never said it did," Ron said.

Draco's eyebrows went up. "That seems to be your main criteria. I'm sure you don't think your Cannons are 'flashy'."

"'Course not."

"There you go," Draco said smugly.

Ron scowled at him. "The Cannons can win!"

"The Cannons," Hermione pointed out gently, "haven't won since '97."

Ron bristled. "Arnold Turner caught the Snitch just last month."

"They were behind by nearly three hundred points!"

"They aren't doing very well these days, Ron," Harry said.

Ron sniffed. "They're just waiting for the right time to make their comeback." He hastily changed the subject. "Have you read what Quidditch Weekly has to say about Augustus Forbes?"

Harry didn't recognize the name. "Who?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said. "I'd have thought you'd at least read the Quidditch page of the Prophet."

Harry shook his head. "I don't get much time to read the Prophet."

"Augustus Forbes is the Catapults' new Seeker," Draco explained. "He's very good if," he shot a glance at Ron, "a bit flashy. But that's only to be expected in a Seeker."

Ron leaned forward eagerly. "Have you seen him play?"

Draco nodded. "I saw him when I was on holiday in France last summer. Reims and Lyon."

Ron's eyes widened. "That was the match where he sent Pierre Duval into the ground on a Wronski Feint."

Draco grinned. "Yes, it was. A perfect Wronski. His twigs scored the grass on the pitch." He glanced sideways at Harry. "I've never seen anyone pull it off quite so brilliantly."

Ron was suitably impressed. "Brilliant. I can't wait to see him play. We've got tickets to the Cannons-Catapults match next week."

Draco's eyes gleamed. "The Catapults are going to smash the Cannons."

"They are not!"

Draco smirked at Ron. "I'll bet you they will."

"Stakes?"

"A Galleon."

Ron stuck his hand out across the table. "You're on."

Draco shook it firmly. "Done." He shot a look at Hermione. "I almost hate to take your money."

Hermione made a faint disapproving sound. "It's his own fault if he takes a bet like that." She took on a superior look. "This is why they work for me."

"We wouldn't want your job anyway," Ron said. "Too much work."

Harry put down his fork and leaned back. "Way too much work."

Draco met his eyes. "You do a lot of work."

Something in Draco's look stopped any comment Harry might have made. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron jerk and glare at Hermione.

"There's chocolate cake." It was Draco who broke the mood.

"You bake too?" Hermione flashed a quick grin at Harry. "Hang on to him."

"I don't bake," Draco said. "I'm on good terms with the head pastry chef at Le Croissant Lévitant." He gathered up the plates and carried them into the kitchen by hand.

"That's just as good," Hermione said loudly enough to be heard in the kitchen. "Really," she said to Harry, "he's worth keeping."

Harry glanced toward the kitchen. "I wasn't planning on getting rid of him," he said.

"I didn't think you were," Hermione said mildly. She looked up at Draco as he set a plate before her. "Thank you."

"Pierre's best," Draco told her. Ron got the second plate, and Draco went back to the kitchen for cake for himself and Harry.

Hermione's eyes widened when she took her first bite. "Le Croissant Lévitant, you said?" she asked when she'd recovered from it.

Draco grinned outright. "Ask for Pierre. Tell him I sent you, and he'll make sure you get the best."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I will." She dug into her cake, and Ron and Harry exchanged smiles over her head.

"Lunch was lovely," Hermione said when they were finished with the cake, "but I'm afraid we have to get back to work. The Ministry frowns upon long lunches."

Draco whisked their dessert plates into the kitchen. "You'll have to come for lunch again."

"Of course we will. Thank you for lunch." Hermione shook hands with Draco.

"You're welcome."

Ron, too, shook Draco's hand, although with a smile a bit less broad than Hermione's. He took their cloaks and held Hermione's for her before shrugging on his own.

"Thank you," Harry said softly as he pulled on his cloak.

"You're welcome." Draco put his hand on Harry's cheek and they shared an awkward kiss while Ron and Hermione discreetly looked away.

***

The flat was empty when he got home. Harry took his still unread Quidditch Weekly and flopped down into his most comfortable chair--the one with the light and dark brown stripes that was just the right shape to cradle his body--to relax for a while before supper.

He was halfway through the profile of Augustus Forbes when Draco showed up. Harry didn't hear him arrive, of course, but one moment he was alone and the next there were hands in his hair and Draco was asking about dinner.

Harry tipped his head back to look at Draco. "There're leftovers," he said. "I had people over for lunch."

Draco looked amused. "Did you now." He leaned over the back of the chair and shared an upside down kiss with Harry.

"I did." Harry let the magazine fall to the ground and tugged at Draco. "It was nice," he said. He managed to pull Draco around the chair and down to sprawl half across his lap. He pushed his hands into Draco's hair and kissed him deeply.

"Oliver Wood," Draco said after a couple of soft, wet kisses. His eyebrows went up, making it a question.

"He's a very good Keeper," Harry said and loosened his grip on Draco.

"He's very good-looking," Draco said. He shifted a little on Harry's lap, making his position a little less precarious.

"I'm not," Harry said and paused, searching for the right word, "with anyone else."

"I didn't ask," Draco said. He stood up. "What did you do with the leftovers?"

Harry stood up too and pushed Draco down into the chair. "I'll get it."

Draco started to stand. "I can--"

"No." Harry pushed Draco back down. "You cooked. I'll get it." He went to the kitchen and left Draco to relax in his favorite chair and flip through his copy of Quidditch Weekly.

They sat across from each other at the table and ate their reheated meat pies in silence. Harry took their plates to the sink when they were done.

Draco put his arms around Harry and brushed his lips over his neck. "The plates can take care of themselves. Come to bed." He worked his fingers under the edge of Harry's shirt. "Come on," he said. "Come to bed."

Harry turned in Draco's arms and let himself be kissed and coaxed down the hall to his bedroom.

Draco was still in his bed, sleeping, when he left early the next morning. Harry looked down at him for a long moment before he left.

He came home, again, to an empty apartment. There was a note from Draco on his counter: "Your friends have terrible taste in Quidditch teams." With it were four tickets to next month's match between the Magpies and Puddlemere United.

***

Draco was there when Harry came into the kitchen the next morning, wearing Harry's dressing gown, which explained why he couldn't find it when he'd woken up to a warm but empty bed. Draco chuckled as Harry finished buttoning up his robes.

"What?" Harry poured himself a glass of juice. When Draco didn't answer, Harry eyed him suspiciously and asked, "What's so funny?"

"This. You, me, us." Draco waved a hand to indicate the two of them. "It's so domestic. Having friends from the office over for lunch. Breakfasting together."

Harry looked pointedly at Draco where he stood frying bacon in nothing but Harry's dressing gown. "I suppose that makes you my wife."

"Sod off."

"You're the one who brought it up." Harry grabbed a slice of toast and opened the Daily Prophet.

"Wanker."

Harry smirked. "Not anymore. That's what I've got you for."

Draco laughed and handed him a plate of bacon and eggs. "Eat your breakfast." While Harry busied himself with his food, Draco deftly stole the Daily Prophet from him.

"Give that back," Harry protested.

"Eat your breakfast," Draco said again.

Harry reached across the table and took the paper back. He opened it in the middle and handed half the pages to Draco, keeping both the front page and the Quidditch scores for himself.

"The Society section?"

Harry looked at him innocently. "Isn't that what wives read?"

"Prat. Give me something else."

"All right, all right." Harry separated out another few pages and passed them across the table. "Better?"

"Mmm. Much." Draco dropped the conversation in favor of scrutinizing the financial pages.

Harry dumped his dishes in the sink when he was done. He disappeared into his bedroom and then came back out to the living room in search of where he'd left his cloak the night before.

"If you'd just hang it in the closet like a normal person, you wouldn't have to go through this every morning." Draco draped Harry's cloak around his shoulders.

"But then what would you do?" Harry glanced at the clock and swore. "I'm going to be late." He grabbed his broomstick.

"Don't I get a good-bye kiss?" Draco fluttered his eyelashes.

"I don't have time."

Draco mock-pouted. "Is that any way to talk to your wife?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." Harry pushed Draco back against a counter and kissed him. It seemed to go on forever as Harry deepened the kiss and pressed his body against Draco's.

Draco recovered enough to say, "Have a nice day at the office, dear," in a rather shaky voice as Harry swept through the door.

***

After the first lunch, Draco would appear, once a week or so, outside the Ministry just at lunch time, and the four of them would adjourn to their favorite pub or to some little place Draco knew of for lunch and discussion, mostly about Quidditch.

It was during an afternoon meeting after one such outing that Hermione asked Harry, "You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"What?"

"Draco," she said calmly. "You're in love with him."

"In-- With-- What makes you think that?"

"You look at him the way my parents look at each other."

If Ron had any thoughts on the matter, he kept his own counsel. Harry quickly changed the subject, but Hermione's words stayed with him.

"Hermione thinks I'm in love with you," he told Draco that night between kisses.

"Are you?" Draco asked, stilling his own movements.

Harry considered for a moment. "I don't know." He looked down into Draco's face. "Are you in love with me?"

Draco laughed, a soft, slow sound, free of its usual malice, and pulled Harry's mouth down to his.

***

Harry shook Draco gently. "Wake up."

"Mmm." Draco half-opened his eyes. "No."

Harry smiled down at him. "It's time to get up."

Draco pulled Harry down and kissed him slowly. "No."

Harry laughed and tried to tug him up. "Come on. It's time to get up for work."

Draco touched his cheek. "I'm staying home today." He stroked across Harry's lips. "Stay with me."

Harry shook his head and turned away to get out of the bed. "I have work to do."

Draco sat up and wrapped his arms around Harry. "Take a day off."

Harry laughed. "What would I do all day?"

Draco pressed open-mouthed kisses along Harry's spine. "You could stay in bed with me."

"Draco--"

Draco moved back up and pressed his face against the back of Harry's neck. "Stay." His hands roamed over Harry's chest. "You can take a day off."

Harry turned and kissed Draco lightly. "Okay." He pulled himself up. "Let me send Hedwig in to the office." He left Draco and went out into the living room to write two quick notes, one to be his official excuse and the other a personal note to Hermione. He let Hedwig out and grabbed two glasses of juice on his way back to the bedroom.

"Here," he said, handing one glass to Draco. "If we're going to stay in bed all day, we'll need some sort of sustenance."

Draco downed his juice and pulled Harry back into bed. "You'll need more than that," he muttered, "but I'm not letting you out for a while."

Harry grinned, happy to be caught. "I'll just have to make do." He tossed back the end of his juice and dropped the glass onto the floor. Draco wrapped his arms around him again, resuming his task of tracing Harry's spine with his mouth.

Harry shivered a little at the contact. "Hermione was right," he said.

Draco made a questioning noise against his skin.

"I am in love with you."

***

Harry's kitchen was in disarray when he got home. His dishes were lying in stacks on the counters. Half of the cupboards were open and empty. There were at least three full trash bags in the middle of the room and another open one was half full. He could see a stack of boxes in the living room.

"I hope you weren't too attached to that Pot Noodle," Draco told him. "I threw it all out."

Harry wasn't, but he asked, "Why'd you do that?" anyway.

"Because I'm not eating that rubbish and you aren't either." Draco reached up into the back of a cupboard and pulled down a dusty box of biscuits. He made a face at it and threw it into the open garbage bag. "Can we put an enlarging charm on the closet in the bedroom or do we have to clear it with your landlady?" he asked as he finished pulling things out of the cupboard.

"Er, I think we need to ask her first." Harry leaned one hip against the counter and watched Draco sit on the floor to start on the lower cupboards. "Why?"

Draco looked up at him. "Because it's an abysmally small closet. It won't hold even half my clothes, and you need some new robes." He continued to pull things out of Harry's cupboards, sorting them into piles that had no meaning for Harry. "If I'm going to live here, there has to be room for my clothes. I'll have to keep the estate, of course, and there's lots of room there, but I can't be going back and forth every time I need a change of robes."

"You're going to be living here?" Harry asked somewhat dazedly.

"Of course. You've got an excellent location here. You'd hate the estate even if I wanted us to live there."

"You don't have a place in London?" Harry asked, realizing that he'd never before wondered where Draco lived.

"No. I had my own little cottage on the estate. I used to Apparate in every day." Draco added another pan to one of the stacks around him. "I'd much rather stay here."

"Permanently?"

"Yes." Draco frowned at something unidentifiable he'd pulled out of the cupboard and, after some contemplation, tossed it in a trash bag.

Harry crossed the kitchen and knelt next to Draco. He turned Draco's face to his and kissed him slowly. "I love you."

Draco stroked his cheek and smiled before he turned back to his cleaning.

--End--