He met Dominus and Symi as they were descending from their box. Dom took one look at the wand in his hand and the screaming crowd, and then his eyes narrowed and he pulled out his own wand.

"I should have known that you weren't who you said you were, Edward," he said. "I doubt that is even your name."

Harry snorted. "Please. I'm not the one who calls himself the Dragon Lord."

Dominus started forward, dragging Symi along behind him, and Harry backed away cautiously, wand aimed in front of him protectively.

"I am going to go now," Dom said. "And I'm taking Symi with me. You won't try to stop us if you wish to make it out of here alive."

Harry barked out a short laugh and released the glamour on his clothes, revealing his Auror robes. Symi gasped and Dom's eyes widened, and then the wizard shot a curse at Harry. The Auror ducked and retaliated with a Stunner. The blast of red light hit Symi in the arm, and she went limp in Dom's hold.

He instinctively pulled her closer with both hands, leaving himself defenseless to Harry's attack. And since he was still bristling over the fact that Dom knew Draco was a human and made him fight anyway, he decided to get a little revenge.

He threw a Bleeding Boil Curse, which Dom dodged. The man let Symi fall to the ground and stood over her protectively, wand pointed at Harry. The two of them stood glaring at each other for a moment, and then they both shouted at the same time.

Spells started flying everywhere, and a few people who ran by them in an attempt to escape the other Aurors were hit. Harry was almost too busy dodging spells to cast them, but so was Dominus.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried, falling back into his old habit of using the Disarming Spell as his main line of defense. Just like every other time he's used it, it worked. Dom's wand flew out of his hand and into Harry's, and the Auror hit him with Full Body-Bind Curse.

Dominus stiffened and fell backward over Symi, and Harry left him there, not bothering to Stun him. He ran over to the main area of the cavern, and found that there were only a few stragglers left over. He helped to Stun them, and then met with the other Aurors by the door.

Most of them were panting, and Pansy had a nasty gash on her arm, but other than that they were fine.

"Is that everyone?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said. "I think so."

"What do we do with them?" Iliacus asked, nudging at someone's arm with his toe. "I mean, how are we supposed to get them all back to London?"

"Who cares?" Pansy growled. "As long as we get to throw them in Azkaban, I'd be fine with shipping them there in boxes."

"Hold on," said Harry. "What about the dragons?"

"I let them go," one of the Aurors said. "A few of them snapped at each other, but mostly they just went their separate ways."

"DId you happen to see a small white dragon?" Harry asked. Pansy glared at him.

"I let Draco go," Pansy said. "He's probably on his way back to HQ."

And without letting him say anything, she turned and began rounding up the unconscious bodies littering the floor, leaving Harry to wonder what, exactly, he had done to incur the wrath of a dragon and his best friend.

… oO()Oo …

Harry sighed silently and turned the page in the book he wasn't really reading, and took a sip of the beer he wasn't really drinking. Grimmauld Place, which had always seemed a little large and empty for just one person and a House Elf, now seemed even more so now that he was used to being around people all the time.

It had been about a week since he had returned from Russia, and he still couldn't figure out why Draco was mad at him. Pansy had ignored him ever since the case had been closed, even though she sometimes stopped by their office to ask Ron's advice on something.

He had spent the last week doing paperwork, interrogating the witches and wizards that were rounded up at the dragon fights, and lying in bed without being able to sleep very well. Kreacher had noticed his foul mood, and usually avoided him when he wasn't making Harry's favourite foods in an attempt to lift his spirits. It worked slightly.

"Is there anything that Master Harry be needing?" Kreacher asked from the doorway to Harry's huge bedroom.

"No, thanks, Kreacher," Harry said. "I'll be fine for the rest of the night."

Kreacher bowed and backed out of the room, and Harry was left to his thoughts. And that was when the owl slammed into the window.

Harry jumped at the loud bang, and most of his beer sloshed onto his t-shirt. He cursed and cleaned it up with a muttered spell, and then he went to his window. The owl hopped onto the windowsill, looking disgruntled and more than a little embarrassed. It held out its leg and Harry untied the small scroll attached to it.

Dear Mr Potter,

As I'm sure you are aware, my Potions Professor recently came back to work after being kidnapped and forced to fight dragons. Dreadful business, that. As I'm sure you are not aware, my Potions Professor has been moping around my school all week, snapping at anything with a pulse, and some things without one.

He decided to spend this weekend at his own home, and though I understand that he needs to be alone, I don't think it wise for him to be left by himself with no one for company but an owl and a cat.

He resides at the 7-8 Manson Place Apartments in South Kensington when he isn't at Hogwarts. His apartment shouldn't be hard to find, as he is the only non-Muggle living there.

In case my meaning is not clear, Mr Potter, let me clarify. Mr Malfoy has been deeply hurt by you, and you are going to visit him this instant (No, I don't care what time it is) and fix the mess you made. I don't like seeing my staff upset, Mr Potter. Especially not by someone who I thought was quite a bit smarter than that.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts

Harry's eyebrows shot up, and he reread the letter once more to make sure that he was understanding correctly. And then another time. The owl hooted impatiently.

"Oh, I'm not sending a reply," Harry told it. "You can go back to Hogwarts."

The bird fluffed up its feathers importantly and gave Harry a single blink, and then it spread its wings and flew off. Harry absentmindedly closed the window and headed to his wardrobe.

"Kreacher!" he called as he pulled out a pair of pants and a thick jumper. The House Elf crack!ed into existence at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

"I'm going out. I don't know when I'm coming back, so don't wait up."

Kreacher blinked. "Master Harry, it is being very late. It is almost one o'clock in the morning."

"Yes, thank you, Kreacher," Harry snapped, trying - and failing - to put on a jacket one-armed. "That doesn't change the fact that I'm going out. Now, how do I look?"

"Dashing," Kreacher grumbled, and then he Disapparated. Harry rolled his eyes, grabbed his wand, and followed his example. Having walked past the 7-8 Manson Place Apartments once or twice, he knew exactly where he was going, and so ended up on the very top step.

The building, which Harry always thought was a very ghastly shade of manilla, was completely dark, with not a single window lit. He cast a quick detection spell and almost immediately he could sense Draco's distinct magical signature. The apartment was at the very top of the building, and in the very back.

Harry closed his eyes and Apparated. The hallway where he ended up was dimly lit, and silent. Harry crept from door to door until he reached one that had magic practically oozing out of the cracks. He lifted his hand and knocked softly, though still loud enough to be heard.

A minute passed, and no one came to the door, so Harry knocked again. From inside came the sound of someone shuffling, and then a dull thud and a muttered curse, and the door was flung open.

There stood Draco, looking immensely peeved. His expression changed to one of shock when he saw Harry, but the Auror was too busy taking in Draco's appearance. He was dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a thin cotton t-shirt, and his feet were bare. His eyes were still slightly unfocused and sleepy His usually immaculate blonde hair was incredibly messed up, sticking out in all directions, looking worse than Harry's had when he was a kid.

"Potter," Draco said, eyes wide and full with emotions. And then they narrowed and became guarded. "May I ask how, exactly, you found out where I live, and why you are here?"

"Can I come in?" Harry asked. "I promise I'll explain."

Draco studied him for a moment, but then he moved aside and let Harry enter. The apartment was much different than Harry imagined it would be. Hell, the whole thing was not what he had expected of the Malfoy. An apartment in Muggle London; and an incredibly messy apartment, at that. There were books and pillows all over the floor, and Harry even thought he could see what looked like a sock sticking out from under the couch.

Draco flopped onto an armchair and left Harry to seat himself on the couch. There was a loud hoot, and then Jellybean flew into the room and landed on Draco's shoulder. A large white cat followed closely behind her, and he settled himself in Draco's lap.

Three pairs of eyes - one steely grey, one pale yellow, one blue, and all of them very judgemental - stared at him, and Harry couldn't help but feel like he was on trial.

"Well?" Draco prompted.

"I don't really know why I'm here," Harry said, and it was true. He had just wanted to set things right with Draco, but he realized now that he had no idea how to do that. "I got a letter from McGonagall, and she told me where you lived and that I needed to come and fix my mess, because she doesn't like having mopey professors, or something-"

"Oh, of course," Draco interrupted, sneering. "Harry bloody Potter comes now, a week after coming back to London, because he was told to. It's not like he actually wants to know how I'm doing. No, he just wants to fix his mess, because that's all that Draco Malfoy will ever be! Did you bring backup, Harry? No? Well, I'm surprised you trust me enough to come alone!"

He had shot to his feet during his little rant, tossing the cat - Flummox, Draco had said his name was - onto the floor. Now he towered over Harry, rage and hurt in his eyes and Jellybean hooting angrily from his shoulder.

"Draco," Harry tried, but the blonde wasn't done.

"Thanks ever so much for checking up on me!" he snarled. "You can let McGonagall know that you did what she told you to, and that I'm fine, because unlike you, I know she actually cares about me and will want to know about the nightmares and the flashbacks and-"

Draco stopped. Both his and Harry's eyes widened when he realized what he had said, Draco's from mortification and Harry's from realization. He had finally understood why Draco had been so mad at him. Because, after all, anger is a secondary emotion, a response to hurt.

"Draco," Harry said.

"Just get out," Draco demanded, but there wasn't any heat behind the command. His shoulders sagged and he lowered his head, and his voice was defeated. It made Harry's chest hurt to see him like this.

"Draco," Harry said again, sternly, infusing all the authority he carried as an Auror into those two syllables. Draco's head snapped up. "I'm sorry." The blonde gave him a suspicious look, but didn't interrupt or move, so Harry continued. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I never meant what I said, back at the reserve. And I didn't come because McGonagall told me to. I came because I was worried, and because you being mad at me made me upset in a way that I didn't know how to cope with. And I was mad at myself, too, because I knew that I had hurt you, but I didn't know how, or how to fix it. Of course I trust you, and of course I care about you. You're my friend, Draco. I told you that before, and I meant every word."

Draco's grey eyes had grown more and more glassy the longer Harry had spoken, and now he ducked his head and sniffed. A single tear dripped from his cheek onto the floor, and Harry cautiously reached out and placed his hands on Draco's shoulders. When the blonde didn't move away, Harry pulled him close and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder, and they stood like that for a long moment.

"Thanks," Draco eventually muttered.

"Don't thank me," Harry murmured back. "I should have done this a long time ago."

Draco pulled back and swiped one hand over his eyes. He offered Harry a small smile, and the Auror smiled back.

"So, nightmares and flashbacks?" Harry asked. Draco's smile dropped immediately and he looked away.

"It always happens after a traumatising experience," he said. "Ever since I was a child. It's how I cope. They'll stop after a few weeks at the most."

Harry pulled him over to the couch and they flopped onto it, and Draco tucked his hands between his legs and stared down at them.

"Are they bad?" Harry asked, because even though he had never liked to talk about his nightmares, Hermione was always saying that it would help; maybe Draco would get more use of that particular piece of advice than Harry did.

"Terrible," Draco said softly, still staring at his hands. Then he seemed to snap out of his melancholy, and he shrugged. "It's fine."

"Hmm." Harry didn't say anything else, not until Flummox hopped onto the couch and settled in Draco's lap. He hissed at Harry, and Draco's hand came down and he rubbed at the cat's ears; Flummox relaxed right away, and he even started purring. "You really do pet him when he's upset."

"Did you think I was lying?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised. And then he blinked and yawned. Harry chuckled.

"You should go to sleep," he said. Draco narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the left, and Harry chuckled again. "Don't give me your stubborn face. It's late, and I woke you up."

Draco looked as if he didn't know which part of Harry's statement to address. "My stubborn face?" he finally asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, your stubborn face. You always make that face when you're about to do something that you know you shouldn't."

Draco closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Wow. I don't even know what to say to that. You catalogued my facial expressions?"

Harry felt warmth spread up his face, and Draco smirked. And then he yawned again.

"Seriously, Draco, you should go to sleep."

"Make me." Harry blinked in shock. Did he just…

"Did you just… And you always call me the five-year-old."

"You are a five-year-old," Draco assured him, smirking wickedly. "I just happen to be a very mature six-year-old."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course."

Draco chuckled and tried - and failed - to hide a yawn behind his hand.

"That's it," Harry said. He stood up quickly, startling Draco, and reached down until he could grab the blonde by his wrists. He pulled him up, dislodging Flummox from Draco's lap, and bodily lifted Draco from the ground.

"Hey!" Draco shouted indignantly. He let out a loud oomph! when Harry tossed him over his shoulder and carried him down the hallway, and then he started squirming. "I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you don't put me down this instant I will castrate you and feed your dick to Flummox!"

"You already made that threat," Harry pointed out, "back when you were still in the infirmary at the reserve. You need to come up with some new material. Now, where's the bedroom?"

The bedroom ended up being the last room in the hall. It was nice, with large windows, plush carpet, and dark cherry wood furniture. The bedspread was a deep red, and Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Gryffindor colours," he observed. "I would have thought you'd go for green."

"Shut up," Draco huffed petulantly, and Harry grinned. "Green reminds me of vomit."

Harry outright laughed at that, and then he walked over to the bed and deposited Draco onto it. The blonde simply crossed his legs and gave Harry a defiant stare that screamed What now?

"You do realize," said Draco, "that I am now going to stay up as late as I can just because you are trying to force me to sleep, don't you?"

"Well, I'll just have to fix that, then." Harry toed off his shoes and stripped himself of his jacket, and then he crawled onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, eyeing him warily.

"I," Harry told him, "am making sure that you sleep." He reached Draco and wrapped his arms around the blonde, tight enough that he couldn't escape. And then he tipped them over, until they were lying down on the bed with their heads on the pillows. WIth a quick nonverbal spell, the red duvet spread itself over them. "There. Isn't this cozy? I'm not letting you go until you fall asleep, you know."

Draco was stiff as a board in his arms. "This is highly inappropriate, I hope you know," he hissed. But he didn't make any move to escape, and eventually he relaxed, and so Harry counted it as a win. Draco was almost asleep when Harry spoke up again.

"Why do you have two familiars?" he whispered.

"Because fuck you, is why," Draco murmured thickly, and Harry laughed.

… oO()Oo …

Harry could tell that something was different the moment he woke up. The bed didn't feel like his own, the sounds and smells weren't the same, and there was a warm body pressed up against his. He blinked, and the events of the previous night came rushing back to him.

He looked around, surprised to find that it was morning. He didn't remember falling asleep. The body in his arms shuffled a bit, and Harry looked down and grinned. Draco was wrapped around Harry like an octopus, with his arms around the Auror's waist and his head on Harry's chest.

Jellybean was perched on the headboard and Flummox situated on top of the covers, and all of it was just so domestic and peaceful and quiet. Harry found that he wouldn't mind waking up like this every morning.

"Harry?" came a sleepy voice, and Harry looked back at Draco to see that the blonde was looking up at him with confusion. "Why are you in my bed?"

"I guess I fell asleep," Harry said sheepishly. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled himself out of Harry's arms. If he felt awkward at all, he didn't show it.

"Of course you did. Come on, I'm sure I've got a spare toothbrush around somewhere."

Harry followed Draco to the bathroom, and the two of them brushed their teeth side by side, making faces in the mirror and trying to get the other to laugh. They ended up in the kitchen, where Draco made them coffee and tried - and failed - to stop Jellybean from taking a sip from his mug.

And then they were sitting at the kitchen table, and Draco smiled at him, that small smile that Harry rarely got to see because Draco was often too busy throwing out fake smiles to people, and Harry really could not handle all the rightness.

And so he stood up and walked forward and leaned down, and only had a moment to take in Draco's startled and confused expression before he was kissing him. Draco froze for a moment, and Harry feared that he had made a huge mistake, and then the blonde's lips were moving against his own.

His lips were soft and smooth, and he tasted like coffee and mint, and his hands released his mug and found their way into Harry's hair, and as far as first kisses went, Harry had to say that this was his best one yet.

Draco pulled back after a moment and rested his forehead against Harry's.

"I hope you know," he said, "that you've basically ignored at least five of the Steps."

"The Steps?" Harry asked, and he could practically hear the capital letter.

"Yes, the Steps. The Steps to Courting a Malfoy. It's not just a kiss and a fuck and then you're dating."

"Ah, of course. Because Malfoy's deserve more than that." Draco smirked.

"Obviously. Now, finish your coffee and get out of my house."

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry asked.

"You heard me. Neither of us has showered, and it's Monday and already eight. We're both late for work, you dumbass."

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes."

"Why aren't you freaking out?"

"Because unlike you, I have a substitute teacher taking over my classes for the rest of the week, or until I feel like teaching again. Whichever comes first."

"Right." Harry Accioed all of his stuff, too lazy to go looking for all of it, and Draco walked him to the door. He turned around at the threshold and looked hopefully at Draco. "So, about these Steps…"

Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled. "I'll tell you about them tonight. Come around seven and bring wine. I hope you like spaghetti, because that's all I know how to make."

And even though he ended up getting yelled at by Ron and Hemlock, and even though he was forced to do all of the rest of their paperwork by himself as punishment, and even though Parkinson gave him a huge smirk when she came by to ask Ron's advice on a case she was working, Harry's smile lasted the whole day.

Yes, there will be a sequel. It's going to be called Harry Potter's Guide to Courting a Malfoy, and it will detail Harry's attempts to woo Draco, not that Draco needs wooing. But as the blonde would say, it's the principle of the thing.

Also, I've started a fic called Conversations, which will feature the conversations that Harry and Draco had while Draco was laid up in the infirmary. Yes, there were a few references to those conversations in this chapter, but don't worry, all will become clear soon.

Keep an eye out for both of those, and stay frosty, Lovelies!