The days went by and after a while the new inhabitants of Malfoy's manor fell into a routine of living. Every day, Harry and Draco had breakfast together before Draco left and Harry got to work in the guest room. Harry did not leave the house, afraid the recent travels combined with the heat might bring up an attack and wanted to get a good amount of rest before he attempted to go outside. Usually he and Draco met for dinner prepared by Dobby in the afternoon, and spent the evening together in one of the fancy living rooms with green velvet couches and armchairs with high backs around marble tables and crystal figures placed on every surface for decoration.

Draco's mother got better with every passing day and was finally moved to a regular ward. Her prognosis was good, apparently, and to tell from Draco's stories, she had already started to terrorize the entire hospital personnel.

"Everything they give her to eat is awful. The way they make the bed, unacceptable. The flowers that most visitors bring, stink. The curtain is either drawn shut, making the room dark and reminding her of a grave, or they are open, the sun giving her a headache. The TV is as terrible as ever, of course, and no one in a radius of a mile is cultivated enough to hold a decent conversation." Draco expertly filleted the fish in front of him, squeezed a bit of lemon over it and tasted a fork full. "Oh my, how is it that Dobby got even better at cooking in those years?" he mumbled.

They were sitting in the large dining room, on a smaller table where they could sit across from each other and talk without having to yell in order to make themselves understood.

Harry chuckled. He was having more trouble with his food, his hands were not very steady today. Eating with knife and fork under those circumstances was challenging as it was without fish bones getting in the way. "I'm sure she's glad you spend some time with her then," he said. He thought about maybe just giving up on the fish, although it smelled very inviting.

Draco rolled his eyes and then weighed his head. "We are doing actually really well. Without my father… We're getting along."

Harry placed his cutlery back on the table with a small clonk. "That's great, Draco."

"Hmmm…" Draco affirmed and then gestured to Harry's plate. "Want some help there?"

Harry looked down at his partly shredded fish and stifled a sigh. "I might…"

Draco pulled Harry's plate toward himself, swiftly cutting the fish open and removing the big backbone and most of the smaller bones with it. "Like that, see? It isn't very difficult once you've got the hang." He put a bit of lemon juice and a few grains of salt on it.

"Easy for you, maybe," Harry mumbled.

Draco ignored him. "Give it a taste," he said, grinning, and held the loaded fork in front of Harry's mouth.

Harry froze. Draco's smile did not falter, fork still up in the air.

For a moment Harry considered telling Draco to leave it be. There were few things that he dreaded more than having to be fed one day and he certainly did not want to start before it was absolutely necessary. That is to say, not before he was almost starving. But when he looked into Draco's eyes he realized the other wasn't taunting him, wasn't even aware of the horrors that went through Harry's mind, and Harry relaxed. Draco was flirting and this was something they should both enjoy. Harry frowned but managed to pull himself together. "Okay…" He opened up his mouth for Draco to feed him and took a bite.

The fish tasted like heaven. The flesh melted on his tongue and there was a hint of lemon paired with herbs and butter that made his stomach rumble.

"That sounds like more," Draco said, chuckling, and loaded another fork, his eyes sparkling.

Harry just let it happen and fork by fork Draco fed him the fish, not forgetting to eat his own portion as well. They continued talking and had a good time, and somehow it all did not feel awkward.

"We can tell Dobby to fillet and cut up the fish next time," Draco said when they had finished, and took a sip of the white wine.

"Yeah… or not," Harry said.

Draco nodded. "You're right. It gets too cold too fast this way."

"And this was fun."

Draco looked at Harry, surprised, and smiled. "It was."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Draco said and leaned back. "I'm full. How about you?"

"It was plenty. Compliments to the chef."

"Where is the little man, anyway?"

Dobby chose this moment to round the corner, balancing a plate with fresh fruits, all cut up in ready-to-eat portions and arranged around a heap of ice cream and whipped cream.

"Geez, Dobby, do you intend to fatten us? Is there a price on our weight somewhere?" Draco gasped.

Dobby beamed happily. "Dobby is glad that the Masters like what he makes. He enjoys seeing the young Masters happy."

"We're going to go into food coma when you continue like this," Harry said, grinning.

Dobby blinked his large eyes at him. "Master Harry needs all energy he can acquire to gain his strength back again. As skinny as he is, it is not wonder he does not get better."

Draco cleared his throat. "Uh… Dobby, it's not like-" he started but Harry cut him short, smiling at Dobby.

"Yeah, Dobby, you're probably right. Thanks for caring for me."

Dobby smiled, his bat-like ears flapping happily. "It is Dobby's honor, Master Harry."

Draco rolled his eyes as Dobby left the room. "Someone really fell in love with you, Harry."

Harry shook his head, grinning. With stiff and tingling fingers and his brows drawn in concentration he picked up a strawberry, dipped it in whipped cream and held it in front of Draco's lips. "My turn," he said.

One late evening, after a thunderstorm had relieved the air from the heat and the sun was already low, Draco took Harry outside in the garden. Harry had not been able to withstand the longing any more, he had started to feel trapped in the huge, lonely house. Draco pushed Harry in his wheelchair, as much as it was possible without rails to push, because Harry thought it would be best if he did not engage in any physical exercise when he was outside in higher temperatures. Dobby nearly fainted upon the look of Harry in the chair and they had to calm down the servant for several minutes and convince him that Harry was in no danger to get worse. Harry even heaved himself out of the chair, clutching Draco's arm to demonstrate to Dobby that he was fine.

Being outside after all this time was simply wonderful to Harry. They stopped right at the far side of the garden, under the lemon trees where one could hear the sound of the waves breaking at the beach. The air was heavy with a fresh scent of lemon and summer and the cicadas were surrounding them with low noise. Harry pulled Draco into his lap and wrapped his hands around the other's waist. Draco relaxed against him with a faint sigh. "Is this okay?" he asked, slightly concerned. "I mean… for your legs, won't they-"

"You won't break me, don't worry," Harry quipped. "Not very easily, at least." He slipped one hand in Draco's neck and drew their lips together. "You might break me like this, though," he added in a whisper into Draco's ear.

After that evening had been such a joy, Harry and Draco started spending more time outside in the later hours of the day, often around or after sunset, taking very slow and short walks to the lemon trees and back, or circling the swimming pool before sitting down on a bench nearby. Sometimes Harry was in his wheelchair and sometimes on crutches and on very rare and precious occasions he would clutch Draco's arm and shuffle alongside the blond man, confident that the other would catch him should his legs give out.

On one such night Harry stopped Draco when they were about to walk past the swimming pool, squeezing his boyfriend's arm that was linked with his. "What's the temperature of the water, you think?"

Draco shrugged. "You're the one with the science degree, remember? I guess it's the same as the ground? The stones are quite cool." As often, Draco who enjoyed the feeling was barefoot while Harry relied on the stability provided by closed shoes.

Harry nodded slowly. The moist air was still heavy with warmth but considerably cooler than it had been most day with a fresh wind coming from the sea. "That would be right if we were waiting for a long time. But water's got a much larger heat capacity than stone," he explained.

"Uh huh?" Draco swept back his long hair and Harry got lost for a moment watching the lowering sun paint Draco's normally bright blond hair golden.

"Oh uh… So it takes more energy and a longer time to cool down. Also to heat up, by the way."

"So fucking interesting," Draco rolled his eyes and squeezed Harry's arm back. "And useless. Guess how we'll know for sure, eh?" He had advanced to the edge of the swimming pool, dragging Harry along.

Harry's eyes grew larger. "Don't you dare-"

But Draco had already dipped his naked foot into the water, holding Harry steady with one hand clasped around his elbow, and sprayed both of them with water from the pool. Draco's grin was wide and his white teeth shone bright as he hugged their bodies together, clothes partially wet and dripping onto the ground around their feet. "So, Mr. Scientist?"

Harry reciprocated the smile, leaned into Draco and let his hands slide down Draco's back to rest on his butt. "Next time we'll better wear swimming trunks," he murmured into the side of Draco's neck.

Draco chuckled and lazily turned his head for a kiss.

It was a peaceful time and Harry was inclined to believe that he was lucky, for once.