Chapter 15

"So you're finally going to meet? Do you think he'll show up this time?"

Harry wanted to glare at Hermione, but there was something about her immensely bulging belly and her look of actual concern that stopped him. She was sitting across from him in a conjured armchair with a matching ottoman propping her swollen ankles. She looked uncomfortable, and he didn't have it in him to give her a hard time.

"Merlin, I hope so. I don't know if I'll be able to do it again if he doesn't."

His best friend gave him a little smile. "No, I can't imagine you will. I'm sure he'll be there, don't worry about it."

He shot her a thankful look and returned to preparing the new lessons room for the next class. Setting plain gold rings out at each station for the students to practice applying their defence spells, he slowly moved around the room, lost in thought about his morning with Draco.

As if Hermione could read his mind, she asked, "So how's Draco? Andi said she saw you both having lunch together yesterday."

Harry shrugged. "We bumped into each other."

"You bump into each other at least three times a week, Harry," she said with a laugh. "Have you told him about your pen pal?"

He paused. "Huh? Yeah, of course. He's the one who encouraged me to try to meet him again, actually."

Hermione made a little noise, but when he looked over, she was oddly intent on her fingernails, which really didn't make sense, because Hermione hardly ever cared about such things.

"'Mione? Are you okay? Is it the baby?"

She let out a little cough and rolled her eyes. "No, Harry, it's not the baby. It's nothing. Have you settled on plans then, for the meet?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. He just told me he thought he was probably ready and asked if I was still interested. I sent back the letter this morning agreeing. Merlin, I hope I didn't sound too desperate."

"I'm sure you were fine." She lumberingly hefted herself up out of her chair and came over to Harry, wrapping her arms around him. He chuckled as he felt the baby kick him beneath his hug.

"Thanks, Hermione. For everything. What would I do without you?" He leaned down and planted a peck on her cheek.

She gave a little laugh as his beard tickled her face — she had the same reaction every time, which just made him want to do it all the more — then she looked up and caught his eyes. "No matter what happens, Harry, I hope he makes you happy."

He had the niggling feeling that she knew something more than she was letting on and that if he let himself think on it too long, he might know too — but he wasn't ready to think about it. He'd hear back from FoodandWine69 in the morning, and hopefully, by then he'd have set plans and could prepare properly. Godric, he was nervous.

Dear Wolfstar

West of Kensington Gardens, there's a little body of water called the Round Pond. As you walk towards it the path will split into a crossroads. There's a small bench there just off the path in the shade — I would hate to be the cause of sunburn! Please meet me there today at 4pm.

It's just about 8mins walk from the Kensington Science Museum. I hope you find it ok.

Ragu and I will be waiting.

Forever yours

FoodandWine69

"He wants to meet today?" Draco asked on Saturday morning, handing Harry his latte as he sat down next to him at the coffee shop.

"Yeah," Harry said with a nod. "In Kensington Gardens."

Draco let out a laugh. "That's a clue."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously. "How is that a clue?"

"He's obsessed with Peter Pan. Maybe he's one of those man-babies that go around in diapers and refuses to grow up."

Harry barked out a laugh and wadded up a paper napkin to throw at the blond. "You're an idiot. It's a beautiful park."

"There are lots of beautiful parks in London, Harry. He picked that one for a reason."

"Maybe he just picked it because it was convenient and he was familiar with it. He seemed to know the layout and all."

"Because he's obsessed with it and spends his time at the Peter Pan statue imagining it's him."

Harry laughed. "Well, I'm sure it's just something I'll have to learn to deal with."

Draco smirked, then grew more thoughtful.

"What is it?" Harry asked, curious at Draco's change of mood.

"Well, even if he's a diapered man-baby, he's a brilliant one," Draco said in a considering tone.

"I don't disagree, but why do you say that?"

"Well, think about it. The timing here is everything. He's waited until you're primed — until you're absolutely convinced that there's no other man that you could possibly love."

Harry thought about that. Could he love someone else? He looked at Draco's silvery-grey eyes staring into his and wavered. "Maybe," he conceded.

Draco's eyes held Harry's, and his voice grew deeper with some emotion Harry thought sounded like regret. "Sometimes I wonder."

Harry cocked his head, finding himself hanging on Draco's words.

"Well, if I hadn't been Draco Malfoy, and you hadn't been Harry Potter, and you and I had just met…"

Harry's chest tightened, but he couldn't move his eyes from Draco's gaze. "Yeah. I know."

Draco continued quietly, that emotion he thought might be regret turning to something else Harry was afraid to identify. "I would have asked you out, and said, hey, how about some coffee, or some drinks, or some dinner, or some Quidditch… for as long as we both shall live."

Harry's breath hitched, but he managed to force out the one thing he could verbalise. "Draco—"

"— and you and I would never have been on opposing sides in anything. And the only thing we'd fight about is whether to have wine or beer, or what to call crackers and cheese."

Harry could feel his eyes burning and his throat clenching, but he was still unable to look away at the grey pools of emotion that were drilling into his very centre. "Well, who fights about that kind of shite anyway?"

Draco gave him a sad smile. "Well, some people do, but not us."

Harry returned the smile, humour bubbling through the myriad of other feelings he couldn't identify, but that were all beginning to be overtaken by the overwhelming sense of panic.

"If only…" Draco murmured.

Harry gave way to the panic and the need to flee so that he could clear his mind and try to understand what was happening. "I gotta go," he said, and there was almost a whine to his voice.

Draco held his eyes for a moment longer, then finally looked away. "Yes, well, you don't want to be late."

Harry stood up and walked to the exit, then looked back to see Draco sitting alone at the table, watching him with now unmistakable longing. Unable to do anything else, Harry turned and left.

Harry walked through his flat showered, dressed, and ready for the park, but still unsure of what had happened that morning with Draco. He stopped next to his desk and picked up his stack of letters from the previous year.

Flipping through them, he began to read through some of the details, desiring to confirm the silent hope that had unconsciously taken root over the past weeks. If only…

Details began to jump off the page about FoodandWine69. He mentioned a Tuscany Tignanello — a fancy wine that Draco's aunt, Andromeda, was familiar with — but he'd never drank beer. He'd broken up with his boyfriend; Draco had broken up with Rolf. He mentioned he'd be away the same weekend Harry was at the conference, where he'd bumped into someone from his past.

Harry kept flipping through the pages, his hope daring to grow with each flip of the page. Words stood out from their conversations that he'd heard Draco use, especially lately. Hell, Harry'd even sorted FoodandWine69 into Slytherin. And then there was the pub when Harry was waiting and—

Harry cut himself off, wanting so desperately for it to be true, but afraid to allow the possibility to fully take root. He looked down and realised that he'd spent nearly two hours getting lost in his thoughts. It was time.

Appearing at the Kensington Gardens Apparition point, Harry looked at the park map and began to walk to the pond described in the letter. It was a beautiful, early September day, and Harry watched the children playing with their parents in the distance and the couples walking hand-in-hand as they passed him.

Hoping to calm his nerves, he took a deep breath and remembered Hermione's wish for him. "No matter what happens, Harry, I hope he makes you happy." And he would. He loved this man he'd never met. He wasn't sure how that was even possible, but he did. But, he also had feelings for—

But no. No matter what happens, I'll be happy. He couldn't let himself hope for more. Not yet.

He approached the pond and looked around, desperate to lay his eyes on the man of his dreams. Spotting the crossroads — and giving a small chuckle at the irony of that — he proceeded closer, searching for the bench off the path in the shade.

His heart beat faster the closer he got, and his churning stomach seemed to want to turn itself inside out. Almost there. Breathe Harry, he reminded himself. Breathe.

He reached the crossroads and noticed a slightly worn walking path off to the right of the pavement that led to a large maple tree. Unable to see a bench just yet, he took several steps further and then stopped. Fuck. It's him, was all Harry could think.

He felt a sob making its way up to his throat, and he nearly choked in his effort to keep it down. Standing next to the bench, leaning against the tree with a large spotted cat at his feet was Draco Malfoy. They both watched Harry closely, Draco clearly waiting for a reaction. Harry took a few steps closer, and in Draco's grey eyes was reflected all of the hope and uncertainty that Harry knew must be in his.

Harry felt his lips curl at the edges, the joy overwhelming everything else.

Draco shrugged as Harry drew close. "Hi, Wolfstar. Let me introduce you to Ragu."

Harry felt a tear pool in the side of his eye, and Draco reached up to wipe it away. Harry finally found his voice. "Merlin, I wanted it to be you. I was afraid to hope, but I did anyway—"

Harry had no idea what he was going to say next, but it didn't matter because Draco interrupted by leaning forward, hesitating a moment over Harry's lips, giving him the chance to pull away. When he didn't, he let out a little breath of relief that Harry felt brush his face and then placed his lips gently on Harry's.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, because finally, finally, he was kissing his pen pal; he was kissing Draco; he was kissing the man he loved. He reached up and grabbed onto Draco's shoulder, making the man let out a little moan and reach up to bury his hands in Harry's hair.

The kiss deepened, and Draco's taste was pleasant and familiar and lovely. Between the kiss and his speeding heart, Harry felt short of breath and regretfully pulled back with a gasp. Draco didn't let go, however, and simply laid his forehead against Harry's own.

Draco simply stared, grey eyes never leaving green, and the look of happiness on the blond's face was all Harry needed. But then Draco spoke. "I love you."

And what could Harry do but grin and reply with the only proper response he could think of? "I know."

Draco threw back his head and laughed, then reached for Harry's hand. "Come on, Princess."

"Oh, for fuck's sake. If anything, you're Leia."

Draco raised an eyebrow and gave a little smirk. "I'll admit I'd look better in that costume."

Harry's eyes darkened in anticipation. "I bet you do. All right. Let's take Ragu home, then go get some dinner and talk."

"Sounds perfect." Draco paused and looked at Harry. "I meant everything I said today. If you need time to get used to the idea of this — of me — I'll understand, but I meant it all."

Harry squeezed Draco's hand. "I think I've been used to it for a while, I just— just needed time for my brain to catch up to my heart." He stopped, then thought of something and let out another laugh. "Charm work! Oh, Merlin. You idiot."

Draco began to walk, pulling Harry with him as Ragu trailed behind. "It worked! I charmed you, you have to admit."

"So what's for dinner?"

"Certainly not pineapple pizza."

"Coward."

"Heathen."

Harry sighed in contentment and remembered Draco's words from that morning. "For as long as we both shall live." He wanted to laugh at his assumption months before of it being the pinnacle of his life. A smile crossed his face as he realised it was just the beginning.

Finis

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