The next time Draco saw Potter was three days later, at his potion's shop.

"Draco!"

Said blond glanced up from his ingredient-gathering in surprise, and promptly squeezed the toad's eye he'd been rooting around for.

Potter had the decency to grimace when he noticed the juices oozing from between Draco's startled fingers.

"Sorry, is this a bad time? Parkinson was out front, and told me to come right in...?"

Draco breathed in deeply through his nose, and out through his mouth. It was difficult, because Potter's choice of a black tank top—which revealed his strong arms and left little of his muscled torso and toned chest to the imagination—was more than a little distracting.

"Not at all, Potter," he muttered, magicking away the slime with a flick of his wrist. "How can I help you?"

Harry eyed him for a moment before smiling. "You wear an apron at work?"

Draco felt the urge to scowl at Harry, but it was so small, so easily overrun by the desire to tease, to playfully flutter his eyelashes and comment on how many people (not really) had said it brought out his eyes.

Draco, instead of doing either, sighed again.

"That, I do. How may I help you?"

Harry nodded distractedly, as he was looking around Draco's work area with interest. "What? Oh, Teddy's nearly recovered, but he needs some PepperUp Potion, and also wanted to know how you are. So. How are you?"

"Fine," Draco replied simply, turning and grabbing the potion previously mentioned before handing it to a frowning Harry Potter.

"What, no inquiry as to my going-ons and doings?" he asked, mock offended.

Draco couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Oh, how terribly rude of me. How are you, Harry? I simply cannot continue my day without this riveting information. In fact, I shan't think I can die happily without it."

Harry smiled and jerked his chin up arrogantly. "I'll have you know, my past few days have been wonderful. I made quite a few revelations, and then did a little shopping, and then visited Teddy, and how I'm here. In fact, he's the one who implored me to visit, and give you these."

Harry then held out a little plastic bag, and Draco took it warily.

"What's in it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said, eyebrows raised, "but you could very easily look inside and find out."

"I'll just open it then, shall I?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"And nothing bad will happen? No curses or jinxes? This isn't a trap of any kind? I know where you live, Potter, and will not hesitate to exact revenge-"

"Malfoy, I swear to God, just open the bloody bag."

Draco sniggered, and opened the plastic bag. His laughter died down, and was replaced by a mere smile, albeit a confused one, when he found chocolates and a box of grey tea.

"What's this?"

"A gift." Harry shrugged, and if Draco squinted and tilted his head just so, he looked shy.

"For?"

Harry shrugged again. "You said you would like them."

Draco tried to remember such a conversation ever transpiring between them, and blanched a bit when he recalled telling Harry those were the ways to step up on Draco's friendship ladder, or, 'defeat the boss' of the level.

Chocolate, grey tea, and a little skin, if he remembered correctly.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Thank you. May I ask why?"

"I thought you were upset with me."

Draco felt guilty. No, he'd merely been trying to regain control of his feelings.

"Not really," he admitted, "but, again, thank you. I like them."

"All of them?" Potter asked casually, but the way he stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned forward a bit made Draco's mouth dry, and he had a dangerous feeling that Potter knew just how distracting he was.

"Erm," Draco muttered, hoping he wasn't flushing too obviously, because why would Potter be flaunting himself, if not because...? "Potter," Draco began. "Harry," he corrected, and when the brunette grinned wider and stepped closer, Draco felt unnecessarily crowded. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, but... Italmostseemsasthoughyou'recourtingme?" he blurted.

Harry blinked at him for a moment before a sly grin slowly formed on his face.

"Why, Draco," he said, "I thought you'd never ask."

Draco let out a breath in a rush of relief, which was swiftly followed by embarrassment, which he covered up with aggression.

"You arse!" Draco hissed. "Here you had me worried I was crossing far too many lines far too quickly, and you didn't even say anything-"

"What part about me saying you're important to me, said I felt intruded upon?" Harry asked dryly.

Draco narrowed his eyes, going on the defensive. "Oh, so it's my fault you weren't clear enough, was it?"

Potter narrowed his eyes right back. "No, but I shouldn't have to spell it out for you, now should I?"

"Perhaps you should, because obviously I've no idea what's running through your head half the time, and-"

"That time at the park, when you were talking about taxidermied birds and then asked about my childhood, and I clammed up. That's because the muggles who raised me were abusive," Potter breathed out in a rush, and he looked a mix of exhilarated and anxious. "Not physically, but they didn't feed me much, and kept me locked in a closet all my life, and I was scared all the time, and I didn't learn to be brave or courageous until I met Ron and Hermione."

Draco's eyes were wide. "What?"

"The morning before I went to your flat for the first time? When to took my umbrella? I'd been pissed because Gin finally told me she and Parkinson had been dating for a few weeks already, and they hadn't wanted to tell either of us because they didn't want us to realize they were trying to set us up."

"What?"

"And when I did go to your flat," Harry said, taking Draco's nervously clenching and unclenching hands in his own as he leaned in to press their foreheads together, "your flat was so clearly you that I wanted to see it all—your basement, your second floor, your attic—because I thought, fleetingly, insanely, that it would help me figure you out."

"Oh," Draco said weakly.

"And when you said I noticed a lot," Potter continued, his words a soft mumble because that was all that was required with their close proximity. "I do. I notice a lot of things, because as an auror, I'm trained to, but it bothers some people. Ginny, Hermione, Ron—they all think it's sneaky, but I'm not trying to interrogate or psychoanalyze anyone, it's just how I am. But you don't make a big deal out of it," Harry said.

"I appreciate that you remember the little things," Draco admitted, nodding, and their noses brushed, and Harry smiled. "I also appreciate that you don't mind my need to argue sometimes, even if we're just playing," Draco began, slowly. "And I find it endearing that you use pens instead of quills. And I love your umbrella a little too much. And that tight shirt is a sin."

Harry laughed, and it was flattered and confident and very, very attractive.

"And I like your smile," Draco added, and tried to make the momentous admittance sound casual.

Harry did smile then, and when he realized he did, he laughed a bit. "My smile?" he asked.

"One side raises higher than other, and it's charmingly crooked," Draco told him, and it felt nice that Harry finally knew what Draco knew.

Harry's grin widened delightedly. "Anything else you're dying to share?"

"I like the thin ring of brown around your pupils," Draco decided. "I always thought your eyes were just green."

Harry leaned back and stared at him. "The what?"

Draco frowned. "The brown. In your eyes."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I never noticed."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course you didn't."

Harry leaned forward, holding Draco's face in his hands, and for a second, Draco thought Harry was about to kiss him. But Harry just looked deeply into his eyes, and it still felt intimate.

"Ah," Harry said. "Yeah, there's a ring of blue around your pupils," he noticed with what sounded like excitement. "I always thought they were just gray."

Draco smiled a little. "I'm not just anything, it would be wise of you to remember."

Harry nodded. "Of course." And then he leaned in and kissed him, and Draco's heart fluttered embarrassingly, but Harry couldn't kiss him long, anyway, because then they were both giggling like children.

"This is ridiculous," Draco sniggered.

"I concur," Harry agreed in his snobbiest of voices, and then they were laughing again.

"Finally!" Pansy yelled, causing both men to jump and whip around to face her.

"Pans," Draco said, mortified and flushing because Potter still had him crowded near the wall, and they really hadn't been doing anything scandalous, but by her knowing grin, she thought they had been.

Draco pushed Potter away self-consciously, and Potter obliged, but only to sidle up next to him and hold his hand.

Draco smiled.

"I knew you two would get together!"

Draco scowled, then, and crossed his arms. "Ah, yes. Harry here was kind enough to share why, exactly, you'd been lying to my face about a certain Weasley and yourself."

Pansy, appropriately, looked guilty. "I'm sorry, Draco, but it's not what you think. It was initially a ruse to get you two together, but you both interacted so genuinely. It wasn't long before I realized you two wouldn't need any further meddling, and I wanted things to progress naturally between you two," she admitted, and her smile was warm. "I thought that, if you knew Gin and I were together, you might feel pressured to get in a relationship yourself, or away from Potter because you didn't want to make things weird with Gin and I-"

"What?" Draco asked. "I wouldn't-"

"I didn't know what you would or wouldn't do," Pansy interrupted, "but I didn't want to be the cause of any of it. I thought it would be best to leave you two to your own devices, and in order to do so, I had to distance myself from you, and I'm sorry about that, darling, but my instincts simply insisted, and they haven't been wrong before."

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed and scowled, but based on Pansy's happy giggle and Potter's encouraging squeeze to his hand, they both knew he'd forgiven her.

Pansy left after a few more teasing remarks and several demands from Draco for her to get her fine arse out of his sight before he began throwing hexes, and she laughed and teased some more, but did eventually leave.

Potter, of course, then turned to him with a waggle of his eyebrows and wrapped his arms around the blond's waist.

"Ready to go?"

"I do have a job, you know."

"I'm sure you could take the day off?" Harry asked, but his tone was polite enough that Draco smiled.

"I don't know. You would have to make it worth my while."

"I will."

Harry smiled, and squeezed his hand tighter, and they laughed.

Harry kept his promise, and continued to remind Draco why they were together for years to come.

And when they moved in together, everyone put aside their pasts to help, and Draco just barely beat Ron at chess, and he and Hermione bonded over potions theory.

And on their wedding day, Teddy gladly brought up the rings.

And when Trevor passed away, Harry surprised a mourning Draco with two new puppies that they could raise together, even if Trevor would always be their first.

And every thursday they went to the Burrow for dinner, while every other Sunday they went to the Manor, where Narcissa babied Harry like the second son she never had, and Harry loved it.

And they stayed up late watching Harry's muggle telly together in their matching sweaters knitted by none other than Molly Weasley.

And they took week-long vacations away with the dogs, which Draco treated like his blood children, and Harry loved that, too.

And Draco eventually did get around to teaching Harry to properly dance, and they continued to do that a lot because Draco realized Harry had a thing for it.

And Draco learned all of Harry's favorite foods to make him for when he was sick, and Harry learned all of Draco's favorite songs to sing to him when he was sick.

And sometimes they argued genuinely, and had deep conversations, but sometimes it was utter nonsense being spoken, and mostly laughing and kisses.

And Draco liked Harry to be the big spoon when sleeping, because he was shorter and never had to suffer hair in his face.

And Harry liked to kiss even in the mornings, when they had rancid breath and were too groggy to tell their faces from her elbows.

And Draco liked it when Harry made him tea because he was so careful about not over-steeping it, or serving it too hot, and it was awfully cute that he cared so much.

And Harry liked it when Draco shaved his face for him because then he could spend the next few minutes staring dreamily at his husband.

And when Harry was on an auror case too long and Draco got lonely, he would floo at the most ungodly hours, and send letters, and when he was feeling awfully romantic, he would send sonnets and poems that made Draco simultaneously laugh and scoff and maybe swoon, but he would never admit to that, but that was okay, because Harry knew anyway, which is why he continued to do so.

And they grew old together, and it was nice, because Draco could remember a time when he doubted he would live to see twenty, and a time when the things that stressed him out were potions orders and remembering to write that letter to Mother, and Harry Potter.

And, well, Harry Potter remained a source of stress, but mostly love, and affection, and when he died, sorrow.

But Draco still loved him until he joined him, and even then, because Harry felt the same.

The end.

A/N: I love these two so much, you have no idea