Title: A Year on the Wizarding Convention Circuit
Author: eidheann
Career Choices: Photographer/Journalist
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, implied past Draco/OC
Summary: Being Savior of the Wizarding World isn't enough to get Harry the interesting assignments. That gives him plenty of time to focus his energy on something else...
Warnings: (highlight for details): *mpreg*, flangst and crack. Yes, at the same time. Also, some pervy boy thoughts. (Wait- does that need a warning?)
Word Count: ~15,000ish
Author's Notes: Somewhere, there is an amazing story where Draco is an investigative reporter and Harry is a war photographer, and they travel to exciting places and report on dangerous situations. They may even fight crime.

This is completely not that fic and for that I (kinda) (not really) apologize. I had way too much fun with this to really be sorry. Even if the A/N likely describes something much more along the lines of what you had in mind when you prompted. *coughcough* Sorry. Ahem... Many, many, MANY thanks to my amazing beta Alexa_Black who valiantly attempted to break me of my run-on sentence habit and somehow managed to get and keep my pronouns straight. Oh lordy, my pronouns and run-ons... She deserves serious cookies. Needless to say, this story would be nigh unintelligible without her. (If it's unintelligible anyway, I take full responsibility. I'm horrible and going and poking and repoking, and I am totally the last person to have tweaked this.) *bows repeatedly* Also, this is my first fest, so huge hugs to the mods for running it and giving me the opportunity to participate. You've been amazingly wonderful when it came to answering all my panicked "how do I" and "what do you" questions. *salutes*

Friday, 9 October, 2009
Mid-afternoon, The Scarlet Otter Inn, Llanveynoe (Wizarding District), Herefordshire

"Mm, that's right. A little more...little more...YES!" The satisfied noise Harry made as he snapped the perfect image of a delectably-trousered arse caused the figure in his viewfinder to turn suddenly. The front was almost as nice-perfectly-fitted, designer label denim that showed everything to its best advantage-and he let himself be distracted briefly before he realized that the denims were approaching. He lowered the camera and let his eyes slowly wander upward, skimming over the thin black leather belt, noting the blue, striped button-down that was just as fitted and enticing as the trousers, up passed a slim waist to nicely shaped shoulders. He was definitely masculine despite his lean figure, and Harry would wager they'd stand eye to eye. Just how he liked it.

He leaned against the railing and let his face slide into what he considered his sexiest smirk-the one that always netted him a bloke for his bed when he tried it in the clubs-when a familiar voice yanked him from his fantasies. "Potter? What the fuck are you doing?"

Harry blinked and straightened abruptly, realizing his fantasies of perfectly-rounded arses and smooth, strong chests had prevented him from taking in the face that was now staring at him with an impatient frown. Familiar platinum blond hair fell across a high forehead. Sharp nose, cheekbones, and chin surrounded steely grey eyes. He was altogether lovely but, "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

The frown grew more pronounced, if such a thing were possible. Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head back so he could glare down his nose at Harry. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm here reporting on the 93rd Annual Regional Salamander Expo. And I'll repeat, since I did ask first, what the fuck are you doing here?"

He frowned; Merlin but Malfoy was a git. "I'm here reporting on the Expo, as well." He squared his own stance, arms crossed and staring back. Part of him hated that just seeing Malfoy reduced him to schoolboy posturing but he was unwilling to give the stubborn ferret an inch.

"You are not! I have been reporting on this Expo for the past 3 years!"

Harry let his face fall back into a smirk, one that would do a Slytherin proud. "That must be why Penny sent me this year. She obviously thinks you can't handle it."

He told himself the angry flush rising up Malfoy's neck was funny and not at all attractive. "Care to make it a wager, Potty?" His voice was a mere hiss.

"Name it."

They realized they were leaning toward each other at the same time, and Malfoy pulled back quickly and countered in a more normal tone, "We'll let Penelope decide. Whichever story she buys is the winner. Loser owes the winner a favour. Winner's choice, no holds barred excepting death, fatal injury, or arrest with a term in Azkaban of longer than a year."

He blinked, impressed in spite of himself. "A bit of a risk you're taking there, Malfoy."

"Scared, Potter?"

"Are you twelve or just stupid? That hasn't worked since Hogwarts."

It was Malfoy's turn to smirk; he was obviously not the only one who had suddenly become a twelve-year-old. "So you are scared. Just admit it and go home. Leave this to the professionals."

"I am not! I accept!"

"Excellent. Now, if you can stop taking pictures of my arse and get to work, you may actually prove to be a challenge." He started walking away, and Harry felt his gaze dip again before he turned abruptly. "On second thought, you wouldn't be a challenge even if you had Granger here to do your thinking. I don't think she could pull your mind out of the gutter."

Harry growled at the retreating Slytherin. It was on.

.oOoOo.

Tuesday, 12 October, 2009
Mid-morning, Office of the Daily Prophet, Diagon Alley, London

Penelope Clearwater was an evil, sadistic woman. She was leaning back in her chair, not bothering to hide the amused expression as she glanced between himself and Malfoy, seated across her desk. She'd gone back and forth between their pictures and articles at least a dozen times, and Harry knew her well enough to know when she was drawing something out. His knee started bouncing again, and he didn't stop it, even when the git beside him sighed and crossed his stupid long legs in the other direction. He looking like he was taking tea at home rather than waiting to see the outcome of a bet.

Not that Harry had ever lost to Malfoy. He certainly didn't intend to now.

"Harry..." Penny's voice trailed off as he turned back toward her, noting Malfoy straightened abruptly as he did so. When she saw she had their full attention, she smiled and tucked a strand of dark, curly hair behind her ear. "Your pictures are fabulous as always. And Draco? This article actually makes the 93rd Annual RSE seem...interesting. I'm impressed." She went quiet at that, watching them both. Harry leaned forward in his seat, wondering if it was worth using his small skill at Legilimency to try and peer into her thoughts, and speed up her naming of the winner. Naming him the winner.

"So, I'm going to do the obvious: Harry, your writing stinks as usual. Draco? Your pictures were almost not terrible this time. Here's your payment, both of you. I'm taking Draco's story and Harry's pictures. Also, I'm glad you two worked together so well; I'll keep that in mind next time and just send you together to begin with." Harry turned to look at Malfoy in horror, relieved that he seemed to have the same reaction. Penny simply smirked and slid two pouches across the desk. "I'll owl you with your next assignments."

Malfoy frowned at the pouches, then at Penny. "You planned this from the beginning. You had both payments ready in advance."

"Of course I did. I knew when I sent both of you that you'd each send me half of something amazing if I could find out how to get you two to work together. Apparently it was easier than I thought, and I just needed to send you out on the same assignment. Thanks ever so." She grinned and flapped her hands at them. "Now, if you'll excuse me. Busy, busy, busy, an editor's job is never done, et cetera. I need to get this sorted and ready for tomorrow's Prophet, so get out of my office."

Before he realized quite what was happening, he and Malfoy were staring at the closed door labelled Penelope Clearwater, Editor. He glanced down at the pouch and sighed. "We've been had. Draw?"

Malfoy sighed as well. "Indeed, Potter, we have. And yes, that counts as a draw." He glanced over at Harry before narrowing his eyes and continuing, "But it's only a draw until one of us sells something that she doesn't buy from the other, if her threat to send us out together in the future holds true."

He grimaced, but held out his hand. "Very well, Malfoy. Until next time? May the best man win and all that?"

Malfoy blinked at his hand, looking uncertain for the first time since he'd seen him again, and reached out slowly to shake. "Until next time." Harry watched him as he quickly walked away, wondering what he'd missed.

.oOoOo.

Tuesday, 29 October, 2009
Afternoon, Pendeen Inn, Threemilestone (Wizarding District), Cornwall

"Papa! No! No! Gamma!" When Harry wandered downstairs to the main lobby of a cozy Wizarding inn where signs advertising the Threemilestone Unicorn Restoration Federation's 23rd annual meeting were proudly on display, he was not expecting to see Draco Malfoy looking faintly exasperated whilst holding a squirming, screaming toddler. He rocked him gently with every sign of being well-practiced, and the child slowly began to calm down. He was surprised to see such visible affection; Malfoys did not seem like the affection sort. He found himself standing and watching until Malfoy noticed him on the stairs and sent a half-hearted glare his direction.

"Everything alright?" Harry approached slowly, not wanting to mess up the delicate balance of calming a toddler.

Draco nodded as the small blond head whipped around to stare at him. He was met with familiar grey eyes in a rosy, rounded face and felt a tiny corner of his heart melt as the child tucked under Draco's chin, one finger slowly reaching into his mouth. "I apologize. Scorpius was supposed to stay with my mother this weekend, but..." He shook his head "It doesn't matter, she can't do it and so he will be here with me. I assure you it will not affect my performance." His chin lifted at the end, and Harry recognised the stubborn set of his jaw.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Scorpius, you said?" He glanced up at Draco's nod before returning his attention to the child. "Hello, Scorpius, my name's Harry. How old are you?"

Scorpius peered at him a moment before pulling the finger from his mouth, holding it and two others up.

"Three?"

This time Scorpius nodded and the finger made its way back into his mouth. Both father and son watched him with identical expressions of caution.

"I'm godfather to your cousin, Teddy. Do you know Teddy?" At the second nod, he continued. "Do you know where Teddy is now?"

Scorpius pulled the finger away just enough to reply "Ho'war's."

Harry nodded and smiled again, noting that Draco seemed to be relaxing, as well. "Yes he's at Hogwarts. Aunt Andromeda misses him very much, and so do I. Maybe we can all go together to visit him when he's home for Christmas hols." He spared an amused glance for Draco's look of surprise, before grinning at the now-smiling toddler. "How does that sound?"

"Yes!"

"Excellent!" He tried to shift his smile back to a smirk at Draco's open-mouthed look of shock, but found he couldn't quite manage. "Now that that's settled, your daddy and I need to talk some about our job. Why don't we find you something to do..."

"Book." Scorpius leaned over in Draco's arms and pointed down at a bag he hadn't noticed earlier. "Papa! Book!"

Draco shook his head and seemed to gather himself, pressing a brief kiss to Scorpius' forehead before grabbing the bag. "Yes, yes. You'll have your book. We'll just go up to our room first...if that's okay with you, Potter? I'd rather get him settled and talk there, but if it's a problem-"

"No, no, it's fine. It's been awhile since Teddy was that small. I kinda miss it." He smiled, enjoying seeing Draco off-balance and uncertain. He seemed almost...nice when he was babbling, which was not something he had thought he would ever think of Draco as capable of being. He stepped aside to let Draco precede him up the stairs, enjoying the view as he followed. If Harry could manage to keep Draco in a not-arse mood, he might even be worth the effort of getting into those perfect trousers sometime.

.oOoOo.

Saturday, 14 November, 2009
Late afternoon, The Laughing Leech, Shipston-on-Stour (Wizarding District), Warwickshire

"No Scorpius this time, then?" Harry settled his camera strap more comfortably and leaned against the table where Draco was sitting surrounded by mounds of parchment, scribbling frantically. This time the surrounding signs advertised the 5th Shipston and Henley Omniocular Tradeshow.

Draco kept writing, and he thought the question was going to be ignored but Draco finally replied, "No, he's with Mother this weekend." He fidgeted with his quill a moment before going back to writing, still not looking at Harry.

"Where's his...?" He trailed off as Draco's expression became pinched and his grip on the quill tightened, causing it to bend.

"It didn't work out." Draco's jaw was clenched so tightly, he was surprised the words came out as clear as they did. "Now, if you're done poking at my personal life, which is none of your fucking business, don't you have actual work to do? I'm certain some of the slightly-less than geriatric Wizards in this bloody inn would love to have the attention of the Chosen One."

"Merlin, I didn't realize it was a sensitive topic, no need to be such an arse!" He frowned down at Malfoy, who finally looked up at him with a bland expression that failed to mask the angry flush in his face.

"Ever so sorry, Potty. Now go away." He turned back to his scribbling, dismissing Harry in a way that made him want to Incendio his parchment. Harry reminded himself he was going to be the better person as he turned and stomped away. Fantasies of flushed cheeks and thin lips around his cock were quickly taken over by thoughts of winning the bet, and the potential humiliations he could demand.

.oOoOo.

Sunday, 20 December, 2009
Evening, Tonks House, London

"Uncle Harry!" He had time to note a blur of blue, which was probably Teddy's hair, before he was tackled in a hug that nearly knocked him back out the door and onto the icy porch. "You're here! I didn't think I'd see you until Christmas at the Burrow!"

He laughed and thumped Teddy on the back, returning the hug with equal exuberance. "Your Grandma asked me for dinner as a surprise. How was the trip back? How's school?"

He was relieved when Teddy released him and started bouncing on the balls of his feet, telling him about his friends ("Great!"), his classes ("Amazing!"), and the House Quidditch teams ("Going to Hufflepuff this year for sure!"). Teddy's chatter allowed Harry time to step inside, take off his cloak, and nod his greeting to Andromeda before the boy dragged him into the cozy family room.

His relief was replaced by shock when he saw three shining platinum heads turn to him, highlighted in the flickering light of the fire. He hadn't seen Malfoy since reporting to Penny after the Omniocular show, and Narcissa since the trials. He smiled awkwardly.

"Good evening."

Narcissa seemed untouched by age in the decade since he'd seen her. Her robes were understated, but obviously of high quality, in a pale blue that set off the blue in her eyes perfectly. There may have been a few more lines near her eyes, and deeper creases near her mouth, but they were the signs of happiness and she wore them well. Draco was seated on the floor with Scorpius, both distracted from reading the brightly illustrated book on his lap by Harry's arrival.

"Teddy! Hawwy!" Scorpius squirmed onto his feet and rushed toward them.

Teddy laughed and swung him up into his arms, turning his hair platinum to make Scorpius giggle. "You know Scorp, Uncle Harry?"

Malfoy heaved an overly-dramatic sigh before grinning at the pair, "Scorpius, Teddy."

"Yeah, yeah..." Teddy stuck his tongue out at Draco, and Harry was shocked to see Draco return the gesture. "So how do you know Scorpius, Uncle Harry?"

"Er, Mal-Draco and I both work for the Prophet. I met Scorpius while we were working on a story."

"Oh," Teddy sighed, obviously bored by the simple answer. Harry found himself glancing quickly between an amused Narcissa and Draco, who seemed awkward now that Teddy was carrying Scorpius away, whispering to him about biscuits and tarts.

He was relieved when he heard Andromeda's voice calling everyone to the dining table. He ducked out quickly and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. "Smells delish, Andy."

She patted him absently on the cheek before steering him to the chair to the right of the foot. "Serving family style tonight, I think. Will that be alright, Cissy?" She pointed Narcissa to the spot at the foot of the table before manhandling Scorpius out of Teddy's grasp and into the highchair opposite Harry.

"Perfect," Narcissa's smile remained amused in a way that seemed to make Malfoy uncomfortable. "We are nearly family after all."

"Mother-"

"Hush, dear. Go sit by Andy."

Malfoy sat in the chair between Andromeda and Scorpius and shot his mother a dirty look. He turned it on Harry, who realized he'd been standing behind his chair staring while everyone else had taken their seats and were watching him. Even Teddy was squirming in the chair beside him. He cleared his throat and sat down quickly, fumbling with the napkin as he hurried to place it on his lap. As if on cue, a tureen filled with rich-smelling tomatoey soup appeared in the center of the table and with a wave of her wand, Andromeda began filling the bowls that appeared beside it and sending them to their places.

Conversation was surprisingly easy after that, mainly due to Teddy's chatter about his first term at Hogwarts and Scorpius' attempts at monopolizing any silences he left. Harry spent a surprisingly relaxed dinner making small talk with everyone except Draco, who did him the same courtesy.

Things continued smoothly until evening became night. Scorpius was curled up on the sofa beside a dozing Andromeda and Teddy had been sent upstairs to bed. It was comfortable in the sitting room. Harry was feeling warm and drowsy, full of rich food and several glasses of mulled wine, and altogether happy with the world. He had almost dozed off himself when he heard quiet arguing in the hallway behind him.

"Have you-"

"I said no, Mother. Scorpius needs-"

"Scorpius is fine. He can stay here, since he's already asleep. Andy has already said she doesn't mind-"

"Mother-"

"-Or I could take him back to the Manor with me. After raising one son, I think I'm capable of putting my grandson to bed without a problem."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No. You need more than to lock yourself up in your study doing work or taking care of Scorpius. The night is still young-yes, yes, young enough anyway. Go out and enjoy yourself for once. Do those things you pretend I don't know you're doing, just... be careful."

"Oh Merlin, Mother, I can't believe-"

"Yes, yes. I do know about such things. I did give birth to you, you know. Now, go enjoy some time off for the holiday. I know, why don't you take Harry?"

"Mother-"

"You've only been pi-"

"Mother, if you finish that sentence, so help me I will hex you where you stand."

Feeling slightly awkward about eavesdropping, but tipsy enough to wonder what was going on now that he was apparently the topic of conversation, Harry stood and made his way to the door and peeked through. Draco was slumped against the wall, head buried in his hands, and looking all the ways that made his trousers feel tight. Narcissa was watching him, arms folded, the amusement she wore earlier in the evening back in full force. The very transparency of the scene was surprising; Harry had always thought Slytherins were supposed to be hard to read.

"Oh, Harry, we were just talking about you." He blinked back to Narcissa, only then realizing he'd been caught staring at Draco once again. Draco's head shot up with a snap, arms crossing defensively.

"Er, yes, sorry. I thought I'd heard my name."

Narcissa's smile was blinding, and somewhat frightening in its intensity. "You did, Harry! I was trying to convince my too-old-for-his-years son to take an evening off from being a father to do something other than work. He's entirely too young and handsome not to have fun once in awhile, don't you agree?"

"Er, well, yes." He mentally cursed the third glass of mulled wine, certain he needed more wits for this conversation than he felt he could currently bring to bear.

"Excellent! Now don't come back too early, boys. Go have fun!"

Before he knew quite what was happening, he was standing on Andromeda's frigid porch, clutching his coat beside a shivering Draco. "Reminds me a bit of that time in Penny's office..."

Draco looked over at him and sighed. "You have no idea. Come on, Potter, I haven't had nearly enough to drink to deal with you this evening."

He fell into step when Draco turned and started walking down the street. "If you haven't had enough, why are you dealing with me? Because Mummy says?"

Draco shot him another dirty look. "Have you tried standing up to my mother? How about my aunt?"

He grimaced. "Point. So where are we headed?"

"Close, cheap, and Muggle. If I'm going to get smashed with the Saviour of the Wizarding World, I don't want anyone catching wind of it. You'd ruin my reputation for good." He was shocked when Draco grinned and winked at him.

.oOoOo.

Monday, 21 December, 2009
Sometime after midnight, The Magistrate's Duck, London

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so much; all he knew was that his ribs were killing him, and his eyes were constantly watering behind his glasses. What had started as an awkward order of a couple pints had swiftly degenerated into a giggle-filled exploration of the most brightly-coloured mixed drinks the bar offered. He was fairly certain that after the first hour, the purple-haired barkeep had started making up combinations for her own amusement. They were potent, regardless.

Draco took a sip of his drink: it was an orange usually reserved for construction alerts, fizzed, filled a martini glass, and smelled very strongly of cinnamon, of all things. It was apparently tasty, however, as Draco had specifically requested it twice now. "She reminds me of the Weasley. The twin. You should set them up, Potter." He grinned at Harry, obviously pleased with the idea.

He laughed. His drink this round was red and viscous, tasting of apples and liquorice, and he'd found himself playing with the glass more than drinking it. "I think Angelina would have something to say about that."

"That's no fun. Nothing like a bit on the side to get the blood flowing, or so I've been told." The smile fell off his face at that, and he swallowed the contents of his drink in a rush.

Harry watched him while he waved the glass at the barkeep. The pub was emptying out, and he realized it must be approaching closing time. "Is that what happened?" Draco turned to glare at him, and he pointed out, "You're the one who brought it up."

Draco sighed and snatched Harry's glass, taking a sip. "Ugh, this stuff is foul, Potter. No wonder you fell behind." He shrugged and continued watching Draco. "Yes. Rather stereotypical story. I was thinking wedding bells and they... well."

"Kept the blood flowing?"

He sighed and nodded, then peered at Harry. "Mother expects you to take me home and fuck me, you know."

Harry coughed, the comment surprising and arousing in equal measure. He could hear the words repeated in his mind: fuck me fuck me fuck me. "Uh, what?"

"It's why she sent me out with you. It's not every day one's mother tries to get him laid." Draco smiled at him; that smile that made him seem human, desirable. "I've seen you staring at my arse, you're always pretty obvious about it." He leaned in toward Harry, and the smell of cinnamon and alcohol overwhelmed him, rushing to his head with Draco's words, each making him feel more drunk than the evening's worth of drinks had. "So, are you going to take me home and fuck me? Or are you the blowjob in the loo type?"

His mind was having problems processing that Draco was actually saying those things. He'd been thinking of both fucking and winning against Draco for months and he found himself simply staring at his lips, not sure he wasn't being led off by a drunken fantasy. Half expecting to be hexed, he reached out and slid his hand around Draco's nape, burying his fingers in silky hair and squeezing just enough to pull it gently. Draco's eyelids fluttered closed, and his mouth fell open with a faint gasp. Throwing aside caution, Harry pulled him forward abruptly, nearly toppling them both off their stools, and caught his mouth in a kiss.

Kissing Draco was overwhelming. He'd thought that such thin lips would be hard, but they were soft and yielding in a way that just pulled him in deeper. Draco's tongue teased, flicking here, there, never staying still, leading Harry's on a hot and wet chase between both their mouths. Likewise, his hands were everywhere: fluttering, clutching, grasping his shoulder, sliding across his chest, holding his arm, clutching his back, uncertain where to touch next. Before Harry realized what was happening, he had both hands buried in Draco's hair, clutching it in time to his rapid heartbeats; each pull also pulled a gasp or whimper from Draco's throat, obvious from the vibration he could feel against his wrists.

Harry probably would have shoved him back onto the bar and spread Draco's legs right there had it not been for the loud sound of a bell pulling him, panting, back to himself. He glanced around, still grasping Draco by the hair, and saw the flushed barkeep standing just across the bar, a large handbell in her hand. "Not that I'm not enjoying the show, mate, but there're decency laws you're about to start breaking. I can get you coffee or water, or call a cab or something. But you two need to get a room. Besides, it's closing time."

The blood rushing into his face was painful in its sudden intensity, and he released his grip on Draco's hair, letting the strands slide through his fingers. Draco seemed equally flushed, and coughed, making an obvious effort to pull his dignity back around himself before replying to the barkeep. "A water would be most welcome for both of us, I think." The barkeep looked between them and nodded, bringing them two pint glasses filled with ice water before moving to the other end of the bar, allowing them the illusion of privacy.

They each drank their water, the silence stretching uncomfortably before Draco finally set his glass down with a slight 'thunk' and slid from his stool. "Oh for Merlin's sake, Potter, no need to get squeamish now. You don't have to give the Death Eater a pity fuck." He wrapped his scarf around his neck with jerky motions and avoided looking in Harry's direction. The bristling discomfort radiating off him in waves was at odds with his thoroughly debauched appearance, and Harry reached out, gently clasping his arm before his thoughts caught up with him.

"It wouldn't be a pity fuck. You said it yourself: I've been watching you for months." His voice sounded rough in his own ears, and Draco paused, finally meeting his gaze. He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat, but didn't spare a thought for the water still in his hand when Draco's mouth was pulling him closer, and they were kissing again. This time Draco whimpered and leaned hard into him. Keeping in mind their audience, the kiss was brief this time, a promise. "Come to mine? I'm not really the blowjob in the loo type."

Draco blinked, then laughed faintly, a blush once again staining his cheeks. "Very well, Potter. Your powers of persuasion are adequate."

Harry nodded, still watching Draco. He tossed a handful of bills onto the bar and grabbed Draco's hand, pulling him out the door while still trying to shrug into his coat. The frigid December air hit him with a feeling of sudden sobriety, but he didn't question this decision. It had been too long coming to have any lingering doubts. He merely clung to the feeling as he dragged them into a dark alley and Apparated them with a loud 'pop.'

.oOoOo.

Monday, 21 December, 2009
Before dawn, Harry's flat, London

The familiar dizziness of Apparition was soon lost in the entirely new dizziness of Draco. Unlike in the pub-when he seemed content to let Harry take the lead and have his way-they hadn't even stopped spinning before Draco was on him, taking his mouth in a bruising kiss, the agile hands from earlier replaced by a tight grip on his coat. He allowed himself to be pushed backwards until he hit the wall with an almost painful thud that served to sober him slightly.

"Hey, hey, what's the rush?" Harry's words were breathless, and it took more concentration than he liked to push Draco back enough to speak. He took a deep breath, watching Draco's eyes slowly flutter open and find his. "We've got time. I've been wanting this long enough; I want to enjoy it."

He watched Draco's Adam's apple bob before he replied, his voice hoarse, "Why Potter, a romantic? I shouldn't be surprised."

"Not particularly. I prefer to think of it as thorough." He clenched the hand pressed against Draco's chest, grabbing a handful of wrinkled button-down and gently pulled him closer, starting another slow kiss. Draco seemed less desperate, or at least willing to humour him, for he returned the kiss but otherwise followed Harry's slower pace.

He held Draco there for several moments, the feel of the wall at his back grounding him, before deepening the kiss. As in the bar, the feeling of his racing heart was soon pushing him on, harder, faster, and he let it set the pace. Draco was either holding back or felt more in control than he had earlier, and he decided he didn't like that at all. Reaching up, he let his fingers grip Draco's nape once again, threading through the fine hair, his tugging rewarded with another of those moans. He pulled Draco back, breaking the kiss and stared at his flushed face for a moment. Draco's eyelids were heavy and slow; his lips would never be anything but thin, but they were dark and moist, swollen with kisses. Colour stained his cheeks, reaching up his ears and down his throat, and Harry released his shirt long enough to begin frantically working the buttons.

As he'd imagined all those months ago, Draco was exactly as his clothing had hinted. His chest was smooth and toned. He pulled him back in for another kiss, brief this time, before nipping his chin and then moving to his throat. He was surprised by the brush of stubble there. Harry had assumed, simply because he was so fair, and his chest was smooth, that he wouldn't find any. It was almost a relief that, though fine and soft, it was still present and familiar, and it was a man in his arms, not an illusion.

He barely noticed his own shirt being pulled up from the waist before the press of cold hands to his back alerted him. "Fuck! Malfoy!" He shoved him back again, this time glaring as his gaze was met by Draco's amused one.

"My hands were cold. So sorry." Draco's hands reached forward, this time sliding up under his shirt and along his chest, the cold of his fingers warming before he felt the electric jolt of them circling his nipples.

"That's it. Too many clothes." Harry began pulling at Draco's clothes in earnest, kissing forgotten. He'd gotten Draco's coat off, leaving his unbuttoned shirt alone, and was tugging at his belt before Draco interrupted him.

"Shouldn't we move this to your bedroom? Your entryway isn't exactly the most comfortable place for this."

He blinked, waiting for the words to process before giving a sharp nod. "Bedroom. Yes. Follow me." He turned and headed up the stairs, stripping off his own coat and scarf and dropping them over the banister as he went. There was a pause before he heard the sound of Draco's footsteps following at a slightly slower pace.

Pushing open the door, he reached out for Draco again, pulling him close for a kiss before marching him backwards until he fell on the bed. The git actually giggled at that, his face open and happy in a way Harry had never seen, and sprawled on his bed with his trousers open and shirt spread. The tightness in Harry's trousers went from uncomfortable to downright painful at the sight.

He ran his hand across the smooth plane of Draco's chest, then did it again, scratching lightly just to hear the quiet gasp it provoked. "Merlin, why didn't we do this years ago?" Draco didn't answer, but his expression twisted faintly before he reached up and pulled Harry down into another kiss.

Then it was just overwhelming heat. He was faintly aware of breaking away long enough to pull his own shirt over his head, before collapsing back on top of Draco. One of them got both of their trousers down, then their pants, and then it was hard cock against hard cock, and he groaned at the hot slide of it as he began thrusting. Draco was clinging to him, arms and legs wrapped around him, and his whimpers had morphed into a single, long, keening sound. Suddenly, it was hotter and wetter and Draco's fingers were clutching him in a bruising grip, and his cock was pulsing and his head thrown back, throat offered up to Harry. Harry felt a brief flash of victory before he buried his face in Draco's neck, biting his collarbone and feeling his own release wrap around his spine and burst out his cock.

They lay still a moment, catching their breaths, before Draco squirmed under Harry and murmured, "I'm sticky, get off me."

He laughed quietly and rolled to the side, collapsing again. "Not my finest hour, didn't even get your clothes off."

Draco gave him a lazy smile. "Well, three-quarters." He sat up and pulled his arms from his sleeves, then pushed his trousers off the single leg that had remained caught. He dug in the pocket and pulled out his wand and a small vial before dropping them on the floor beside the bed. "Now, if you've gotten the edge off, I believe I was promised a fucking."

"I got the edge off?" Harry snorted, his grin not fading. "I'm not the only one, I'll remind you."

"Yes, yes." Draco waved his wand and vanished the mess from both of their bellies. "Less talking, more fucking. Unless you lack the stamina?" Draco's grin had turned wicked.

"I'll show you lacking stamina," Harry growled, still amused. He rolled onto his side and ran his fingers through Draco's hair again. "How do you want to do this?"

"You have heard of a prostate, haven't you, Potter? Because if you haven't, maybe I should go find the loo for a blowjob after all..." The Malfoy drawl was back, and Harry felt a rush of annoyance. Draco could lay there, naked and perfect and still talk like that, still get Harry's temper up, and he was tired of it.

He glared, but instead of answering simply shoved Malfoy over, crawling on top of him and burying his face in the curls around his still-soft cock. He roughly pushed Draco's legs apart before reaching down and pressing firmly on the space just above the tightly furled hole. He was rewarded with a gasp and smirked up at Draco as he noted his cock once again began to fill. "Point taken." Draco's voice ended in a squeak when Harry swallowed him to the root. Harry chuckled, not releasing, and Draco gasped again at the vibration.

He took his time. Though he wouldn't admit Draco was correct, he wasn't nineteen anymore and he knew it would be a few minutes before he was ready to go again. Draco was warm and heavy in his mouth, tinged faintly with the lingering taste of their earlier release. Draco seemed sensitive, if the hands clutching his hair and renewed keening were any indication. He pulled off with a 'pop', grinning evilly at Draco, and ran his thumb lightly along the ridge. "Complaints?"

Draco shook his head, untangling his fingers and reaching for the vial he'd pulled from his pocket earlier. "Lube," he murmured, his voice breathless, and handed it to Harry. He peered at it; it was almost transparent but for a faint greenish tint. When he opened it, it smelled herbal, sage and slightly sweet.

"You brew your own lube?" Harry smiled down at Draco, coating his fingers liberally with the smooth liquid. Draco arched an eyebrow but didn't reply, his expression quite explicitly conveying his thoughts on that question. "Yes, of course. How silly of me. Of course you brew your own lube."

"Are you going to shut up and-"

Draco's words were cut off as Harry abruptly breached the tight ring of muscle with his middle finger, pausing once inside the tight heat to let him adjust to the intrusion. He watched Draco's face, but his expression was one of surprise and not pain, so he began twisting and pumping his hand until Draco began to relax. He added a second finger when Draco began to push back, squirming, obviously trying to get pressure on his prostate. "Want something?"

"I hate you." Draco had moved his hands to his own hair, covering his face. His voice was a breathless whine, and he shone in the moonlight, covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Aw, can't have that." Harry swallowed his cock once again, and finally allowed his fingers to press on Draco's prostate. Draco arched upwards with a shout and Harry quickly gripped the base of his cock. He pulled back and glanced down apologetically at Draco. "Shhh...sorry about that; you're closer than I thought."

His only reply was an unintelligible burble, so Harry quickly removed his fingers, spreading the excess lube onto himself before lining up against the slick hole. He released his hold on Draco's cock and reached up, tilting Draco's face until they had made eye contact. "Are you ready?"

"Merlin, Potter, if you don't shut up with the stupid teasing and Gryffindor nonsense, I'm going to hex you into next week!"

"I'll take that as a yes, then." He took a deep breath and slowly began to push forward, sliding into Draco with a hiss. It was tight, almost painfully so, especially when Draco clamped down against the intrusion. He brushed Draco's chest with kisses, waiting until he'd calmed down and began to slowly work himself, small thrust by small thrust, deeper in. "I thought you said you were ready."

Draco wiggled a bit, causing Harry to gasp when the sensation shot straight up his spine. "I didn't say I was ready, I said you needed to fuck me anyway. Fucking move, Harry!"

"Fuck!" He could hear how strangled his voice sounded, even to himself, but Draco hadn't stopped the wiggling he was doing and it was just too much. He pulled back and thrust in to the hilt, part of him noting Draco's hiss, but mostly too far gone to think of anything but harder, faster, more. Draco rolled his hips with the next thrust and managed to get his knees up, pushing Harry back and using the angle to get his legs over Harry's shoulders. He leaned forward again, pulling Draco's head up sharply and starting another of those drugging kisses, swallowing the keens Draco was beginning to make with each thrust, and holding on until he felt his muscles clench tightly around him, and a sudden wet heat spread across his chest. That was all it took, and he was overtaken before Draco's muscles stopped fluttering.

.oOoOo.

Monday, 21 December, 2009
Late morning, Harry's flat, London

When Harry opened his eyes, the first thing he was aware of was the white-blonde hair he was apparently nuzzling. He pulled his head back, and winced as the motion started a pounding that could only be attributed to a monster hangover. Climbing carefully out of bed, he made his way to the loo, rummaging in the drawer until he found two dark green hangover potions. He grimaced at the overwhelming taste of eucalyptus and mint as he downed one vial; he clung to the sink, waiting for the spinning in his head and stomach to fade.

Sneaking a glance back into the bedroom, where Draco remained asleep or passed out, he pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms and made his way down to the kitchen, setting water to boil and pulling out the tea. It all seemed rather surreal: him standing in his kitchen making tea, and Draco asleep in his bed. The whistle of the kettle pulled him out of his thoughts, and he heard a groan from the bedroom, followed by the sound of stumbling steps before the door of the loo slammed closed.

He set the tea to steeping and moved to the closed door. It was quiet behind, so he tapped softly. "Hangover potion's on the sink. Tea's about ready, too."

"Thanks." Draco's voice sounded weak, but when there was no further response, Harry made his way back to the kitchen.

When Draco appeared several minutes later, he was wearing his trousers and wrinkled button-down from the previous night. Combined with his mussed hair and still-swollen lips, he looked thoroughly shagged, and Harry sat quickly to hide his body's automatic response. "I made toast, too." He gestured to the center of the table, which held the kettle, two cups, and a plate of plain toast. "I wasn't sure how you wanted your tea..."

"Just sugar, please." Draco pulled over the plate, and took a corner of toast off it, nibbling at the edge. He watched as Harry poured the tea, an unreadable expression on his face. "Was this a mistake?"

He laughed; the comment just seemed to cap off the whole surreal experience. "I think the typical response is to say it's a mistake, not to ask."

Draco's knees appeared above the table line, and he set the toast back down on the plate. He looked very young and uncertain, and Harry's heart went out to him in spite of himself. "I don't know if it's a mistake," he murmured quietly, avoiding eye contact. "I mean, we work together. And I have to think about Scorpius first. And I don't want things to be...difficult."

"Hey," Harry leaned across the table, sliding his hand out and poking Draco in the arm. When he looked up, he continued, "It's awkward if we let it be. And we've been perfectly capable of making things difficult since we were eleven. I happen to think this is much better than hexing each other in the halls."

Draco's answering smile was small but present. "I don't do relationships, Harry. I have to put Scorpius first."

He leaned back, watching as Draco picked up the piece of toast and began nibbling again. He didn't know how he felt about Draco's statement; it wasn't like he was trying to turn a one-night thing into trips to the Burrow for Sunday dinner. "So we don't have a relationship." He paused, feeling almost as surprised by his comment as Draco looked. "Well... I mean, we are still going to run into each other...for work." He paused, cursing his tendency to start talking before he'd thought things through. Draco sitting there looking at him and looking so stupidly shagged wasn't helping. "I mean, I'm not saying it's a relationship. I'm kinda shit at them myself. But...last night was good. It was really good. And I don't see why we can't do it again if we're stuck in a hotel at a stupid convention together anyway."

Draco sat there a moment before one side of his mouth twisted upward and he glanced back down at the table. The git was actually blushing. "Once again, your powers of persuasion are not a complete failure. Since we are going to run into each other anyway...best not make things more awkward if it's just better to...well."

"Shag?" Harry grinned and once again leaned across the table, sparing a moment to wonder if it was worth it to get Draco out of his clothes and back into bed or just bend him over the table.

Draco must have seen something in his expression, however, for his own face took on a faint look of regret. "I need to go. I didn't intend to fall asleep last night, and...well, I felt we should probably talk this morning anyway. But I can't leave Scorpius any longer."

He made a face. "He's with your mother." He knew he was whining, but the thought of losing the chance at another shag meant he didn't care.

Draco just smiled, and Harry wondered when he'd started showing that open expression. "And it's nearly noon, and you don't need to explain to a three-year-old why you weren't there to eat breakfast with him."

He laughed in spite of his thwarted libido. "No, I suppose not. I'll see you around, Draco."

Draco stood and bit his lip before nodding in return. "I'll see you around, Harry."

.oOoOo.

Friday, 8 January, 2010
Evening, The Flaming Crup, Flamborough (Wizarding District), East Riding of Yorkshire

Harry slumped against the bar with a sigh, his head hitting the bar with a 'thunk', and raised one hand to weakly summon the barkeep over for a pint. He didn't raise his head when he heard the stool beside him slide against the wood floor. "Flobberworms not your thing, Potter?" Draco's voice was entirely too amused, so he simply gave a two-finger salute and raised his head only when he heard the clink of pint glass against countertop. He took a long drink before turning and glancing at Draco. As usual, he looked immaculate, and not like someone who'd been chasing down flobberworm breeders to interview for the past several hours.

"Who breeds flobberworms, anyway?" He followed the petulant question with another drink the stout, which was the only good part of the weekend.

"People who supply apothecaries and potions masters, of course." Draco's grin was in complete opposition to his overly-innocent expression, and Harry let his head fall again with another 'thunk.'

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to make flobberworms look interesting? All of them, just sitting there and...sitting there."

Draco snickered, "Why Harry, that sounds like you're forfeiting our little bet to me. I wonder what favour I'll require."

He raised his head again, sticking his tongue out at Draco. As he had with Teddy, Draco returned the gesture before waving the barkeep over. "Stout, please. And another for my friend."

As Harry waited for the barkeep to return, he watched Draco, admiring the open and happy expression on his face. "When did you start covering this bloody convention, anyway?"

"Oh, years ago. I think five? Six? Don't worry, I felt the same my first couple years here. This is really the worst one of the season."

"And yet, you're sitting here smiling and mocking me for my misery."

"Of course! It's what I do best!" Draco took a drink, before leaning in toward Harry, filling his senses with the feeling of warmth and the smell of his cologne. "But there's a secret."

"Secret?"

Draco nodded solemnly, leaning in closer and his voice dropping to a whisper. "This convention goes by much faster if you spend it...well...soused."

Harry laughed in spite of himself. "Git. I thought you were actually going to give me advice, here."

Draco pulled back and shrugged, taking another drink. "I was going to say well-lubricated, but, well, flobberworms."

"Er, yes. Flobberworm convention."

"Merlin, I don't know how I forget you're dismal at potions...flobberworms, Harry." Draco was staring at him expectantly, but he just couldn't make a connection. Draco finally sighed. "Flobberworm mucus is often used to add texture and viscosity to potions because it does not interact with most ingredients..." He paused again, shook his head when there was still no response. "What do you think that horrible, mass-produced, apothecary-grade lube is made from?"

He choked on his ale. "You make lube from flobberworm mucus?"

The look Draco graced him with could have frozen flame. "I do not make lube from it, thank you very much. I told you, that apothecary rubbish is mostly flobberworm mucus. They just add some oils for scent and...flavour." They both wrinkled their noses at that.

"Oh god. I take it all back...every crack about you brewing your own lube. Oh god." He took several gulps, emptying his pint, attempting to wash the imagined taste from his mouth. Draco just sat there looking pleased with himself.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way, want to come up to mine and explore the benefits of not relying on flobberworms for certain things?"

Harry glanced over when he felt the warmth of Draco's hand on his arm, surprised that his expression was almost hesitant and completely at odds with the rather blunt come-on. He let his own smile show, widening naturally when Draco's expression relaxed into a smile as well. "I think I could be persuaded, yes."

"Oh good. One thing I love about these geriatric conventions is that everyone's asleep by eight o'clock." Draco hopped off his stool and glanced back over his shoulder at Harry, his smile shifting into something more. "Coming?"

He tossed a few galleons on the bar and followed, not taking his eyes off Draco. He was fairly certain he looked like a besotted idiot, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

.oOoOo.

Wednesday, 27 January, 2010
Late morning, Harry's flat, London

Harry slid the mug across the table to his rumpled companion. "Staying for tea, or need to get home?"

Draco yawned and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Uh, half ten?"

Draco made a noncommittal noise but reached for the mug and took a long sip. The silence lingered awkwardly for a few minutes while each man focused on his tea before Draco finally spoke. "This wasn't what I intended."

Harry looked up. Draco looked uncomfortable, still staring at his half-full mug. "What?"

"This. This thing we're doing."

He grinned in spite of himself. "Shagging?"

"Yes! It's not a relationship, it's what we do when we're already stuck together with work." Draco's voice was beginning to rise, and his expression was panicked. "That's what we said. Just when we're there anyway..."

Harry held up a hand; he wasn't certain what was getting Draco upset, but he knew he needed to head this off quickly before something was said that was not intended. "Well, we were both just kind of there." Draco remained quiet, though his breathing was still quick, so he continued, "I didn't owl you to meet me at the Leaky. We both happened to be there. You didn't abandon Scorpius, he was with your mum. We're just two blokes who happened to be eating dinner at the same place and the same time."

"Who had an agreement." Draco's voice was more normal pitched, and his breathing seemed more controlled.

He nodded. "Who had an agreement to shag when convenient. And last night seemed pretty convenient, even if it wasn't quite the letter of the arrangement."

Draco nodded and took a deep breath, then a drink of his tea. "Okay."

Harry nodded as well, smiling as he was overcome with relief. "Okay."

.oOoOo.

Friday, 19 February, 2010
Mid-afternoon, The Stirring Rod, Much Wenlock (Wizarding District), Shropshire

"Hawwy!" He was just turning away from the check-in when a weight slammed into his knees, nearly sending him sprawling into the desk. He had time to note a familiar-looking head of platinum-blond hair before he heard Draco's hurried footsteps.

"Scorpius this weekend, I take it?" He grinned and lifted the small child, shifting him to his hip.

"Mother and Andromeda are attending some sort of ladies weekend. Which I think is just an excuse to drink sherry and gossip." Draco held out his arms, and Scorpius launched himself forward, almost causing Harry to fumble him. Once he had Scorpius settled, he gave a decidedly sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, this means..."

Harry laughed, even though he could feel his libido protesting. "It's alright. I'll let you make it up to me later."

Draco's cheeks went scarlet, but he gave a small smile and nod in return. "At least it's a Cleansweep convention this time. Much easier to keep him entertained when I can set him up on a training broom and let him have at."

"Scorpius is flying already?"

Draco tilted his head, eyeing Harry curiously. "Of course. Not anything but training brooms, but he's been flying since he could walk."

"Oh." Harry shifted his bag uncomfortably, moving toward the stairs. Draco followed him up, Scorpius in tow.

"I'm sorry? I thought you'd...with Teddy, I mean..."

Harry swallowed and glanced over his shoulder at Draco, offering an uncomfortable smile. "I...missed the first few years with Teddy. It was awkward after the war. I saw him sometimes, but...well, not really much until he was five."

"Oh..." Draco's voice trailed off as he paused on the step before hurrying to catch up. It was silent until they reached Harry's room, Scorpius seemingly too interested in looking around to provide his usual chatter. He opened the door and turned back and smiled faintly at Draco. "I'll be back downstairs in a few minutes." Draco simply nodded.

He let his bag fall on his bed and collapsed beside it, frowning up at the ceiling. He tried to resent Draco for bringing up what was considered normal for Wizarding children and making him admit that he'd been an idiot and dicked off on his responsibility to Teddy for practically the first half of his life. Andromeda was a saint for letting him spend as much time as he wanted when he finally got his head on straight, but by then he'd missed so much. It had been hard looking at Teddy and seeing nothing but the fact that he was an orphan because of him.

He sighed. It wasn't Draco's fault. Andy had never said anything, never given Harry so much as a look to tell him what an arse he'd been. Draco had no way of knowing. And Teddy didn't seem to have a problem with him, either. He still felt guilty but mostly ached for all the milestones he'd missed. He sat up, running a thumbnail along the seam of the coverlet. He sometimes wondered what it would be like if he hadn't abandoned Teddy, or if he adopted. He'd thought about finding someone and settling down more and more as time passed. The desire for family always hit him like a punch to the gut, to be able to have what he'd grown up wanting. To love and be loved.

It was what hurt the most about looking back on his early relationship with Teddy. Andromeda loved Teddy with a ferocity he couldn't doubt, but he always remembered living with the Dursleys. He wondered if in the beginning, Teddy thought even for a moment that Harry didn't love him.

A quiet knock startled him out of his maudlin thoughts, and he glanced at the clock, surprised he'd been sitting there feeling sorry for himself for the past half hour. He opened the door to see an apologetic-looking Draco, clasping Scorpius' hand and carrying a tiny broom. "Sorry, but the Little Wizard's Shuntbumps game is starting in ten minutes, and Scorpius wants you to take his picture."

He stared down at the excitedly squirming toddler for a moment, feeling something in his chest expand. Finally, he smiled and reached down to scoop him up in his arms. "Can't have a Shuntbumps game without pictures, can you? Let me just get my camera." He reached out and flung the strap carelessly over his shoulder, giving Scorpius an intentional jostle that caused him to squeal and laugh. "Let's go, can't be late!" He paused when he glanced at Draco standing there, looking wrecked. "You okay?"

Draco took an obvious breath and smiled woodenly at Harry, before turning a more genuine smile on Scorpius. "Of course. Can't be late, can we? I just-I need to get something from our room, I'll meet you downstairs."

Draco turned and fled, leaving him with a sense of foreboding and a toddler in his arms. He cuddled Scorpius closer a moment before turning to head downstairs. He had no idea what was going on, and wondered briefly if this was related to Draco's relationship aversion and protectiveness of Scorpius.

"Come on, you. Let's go downstairs and get you ready. Your papa will be down with your broom and to cheer you on in a moment." He ruffled the soft platinum hair and joined the queue of toddlers waiting to play.

.oOoOo.

Saturday, 24 April, 2010
Evening, The Willow Plate, Cricklade (Wizarding District), Wiltshire

"Hey! Draco!" Harry hurriedly sidestepped a small witch with a topiary attached to her hat in an effort to catch up to the blond head ahead of him. "Wait! Dammit."

Draco finally stopped, shooting Harry an exasperated glance. "What?"

Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a sign reading 417th Annual Flitterbloom Fair and Sale. "What's going on? Is everything alright? I haven't seen you in two months. I thought we'd at least run into each other at Andy's during Easter hols..."

Draco tugged his arm free and stared at some point over Harry's left shoulder. "It was the off-season, of course we didn't run into each other. And we don't make plans to meet, remember?"

He frowned. "Merlin, what the hell is wrong, anyway? You can't tell me you haven't been avoiding me. This thing is big, but we haven't been in the same room once. I thought we'd moved beyond that."

"I wasn't aware you wanting to stick your dick up my arse made us friends, Potter." Draco's face was beginning to acquire a telltale flush of anger, and Harry felt his own temper start to rise.

"No, I thought us being able to have civil conversations, dinners with family, and spending time with your son made us friends. Silly me."

"Don't try to convince me you think of me as anything other than a convenient shag-"

"A few shags, then nothing for two months hardly makes you convenient, Draco."

"So sorry I fail to meet your expectations!"

He laughed at that; the situation was so strange he found he couldn't keep his temper. "Merlin. You think I expect you to be easy and convenient? That's like expecting Snape to hug a Hufflepuff."

Draco simply stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "You're mental."

"Of course. I spent the past five minutes dodging topiary and old biddies trying to chase you down across the convention floor."

Draco sighed and rubbed his head, mussing his hair in the process. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know that I can keep doing this."

He blinked, biting back his first response and instead asked, "I assume you're talking about this not-a-relationship thing and not writing up minor conventions for the Prophet?"

Draco bit his lip and nodded. "Yes. I...this..." He huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend for this to happen like this. I thought I could keep everything separate. But Scorpius adores you, and I can't...it's more important that he have you as someone he...he can spend time with than it is for me to get a...a...convenient shag."

Harry blinked, frowning as he attempted to make sense of that. "So, you're...well, dumping me for lack of a better phrase, because your son likes me?"

"I...I would rather be friends or co-workers and not have Scorpius lose you than, well...after the Cleansweep convention, you were all he talked about for a month. The pictures, and you giving him that ice cream, and talking to him...the only other people he spends time with are my mother and aunt. You...you're wonderful with him, and...and I can't risk that." Draco clenched his hands tightly, still not meeting Harry's gaze. "Please don't ask me to risk that."

"Hey..." He reached out and grasped Draco's arm gently, telling himself the leaden feeling settling in his stomach was just due to a disappointed libido. "It's okay. I think he's pretty amazing, too. You've done a good job with him. And...if that's what you want, I'd like us to be friends."

Draco slumped, as if all the tension vanished from him in an instant. His expression was pained, but he nodded. "Thank you."

.oOoOo.

Saturday, 22 May, 2010
Early evening, Morpeth Inn, Heddon-on-the-Wall (Wizarding District), Northumberland

"So why do we always get stuck covering these nothing conventions, anyway?" Harry smashed his steak pie into the plate with his fork and glanced across the table to his dinner companion.

Draco took another bite of his salmon before answering. "Combination of factors. Partly it's a deal with the WWN. They cover all the big stuff live, so the poor sods who can't go can still pretend they're there. Then, for the Prophet at least, it's a reward. Give the cushy jobs to the Society writers and the staff reporters who bring in the galleons, and save the boring things just needed to fill space for us freelancers."

He sighed, taking another bite of the bland pie. "You'd think with the quality of work we do, Penny would use us for something with a target audience still in their first century."

Draco laughed softly. "We did the Cleansweep convention; though, that's the highlight of the year. And at least a bunch of doddering Charmists beats flobb-" His face flushed with colour and he quickly picked up his fork and returned his attention to the salmon.

The silence stretched and became even more awkward. The past day had been easy enough. While working, things were normal. Even dinner together the previous night was no problem. There was no Scorpius to provide distraction, but they were still firmly in the mindset of work. It wasn't until dinner was finished, leaving both staring at each other across the suddenly too-small table, that things began to feel strained. The awareness of what they had been doing-what they were specifically not going to do that evening-weighed down on them like an anchor.

He didn't like to think about the fact that he'd tossed and turned for three hours last night before finally giving in and wanking himself raw to memories of Draco before he was able to fall asleep. And tonight seemed to be worse. Draco was staring at his plate, his appetite apparently having vanished along with Harry's. He felt a faint twinge at that, but quashed it down quickly. It had been Draco's idea to end this, and so it was Draco's fault things felt awkward now.

Finally, Draco pushed back his plate and broke the silence. "Well, good evening then." His words were quiet, and Harry forcibly kept his attention on his plate, just offering a nod and quiet grunt in return. He listened to the slide of Draco's chair against the floor. The pause before Draco stood and left seemed to stretch for eternity. "Goodnight, Harry."

He sighed, giving up on his own dinner. "Goodnight." He very deliberately did not watch Draco walk away, instead turning his attention to the barkeep. Tonight, he needed alcohol.

.oOoOo.

Saturday, 5 June, 2010
Very late evening, Harry's flat, London

The steady buzzing of the bell pulled Harry from his doze. He considered pulling a cushion over his head and ignoring it, but curiosity won out and he pulled himself upright, sidestepping the half-eaten Indian takeaway and empty lager bottles scattered on the floor in front of the couch.

"Harry!" Opening his door to a very obviously intoxicated and smiling Draco Malfoy was not high on his list of things to do for the evening, but it seemed it was the evening he was stuck with.

"Draco, what are you doing here? It's nearly midnight." He braced his arm across the opening when Draco tried to push inside, ignoring the pout he got in return.

"'Smy birthday. You didn't wish me happy birthday." The pout was beginning to turn into something more genuine so, with a sigh, he let Draco into his flat.

"Happy birthday, Draco. Why are you here?" He rubbed his hand over his face. He was still feeling the remnants of that fourth lager, compounded by the usual muzzy-headedness that came from sleep.

"Told you, it's my birthday." Harry lifted his head to find himself standing entirely too close to Draco's earnest expression. He stood his ground, half convinced he was still asleep and dreaming this entire situation.

"And I just wished you happy birthday. You're pissed. How much have you had to drink tonight?"

Draco smiled brightly and stepped forward, snuggling into Harry's arms and resting his head against his shoulder. Harry's heart gave a sudden double-thump and his arms rose to rest around Draco's back and shoulders almost without his consent. Draco practically purred and wiggled closer in a way that was at once familiar and painfully missed. "I can drink. It's my birthday, it's practically in the rules. Get smashed, get laid, all that."

Harry could feel himself stiffen at the words, knots in his back and shoulders tightening as he stood, and his voice was hoarse. "That's why you're here, then? You expect a shag?"

Draco pushed back until he met Harry's gaze, his fingers twisted in the soft cotton of Harry's shirt. His eyes shone with unshed tears. "I'm sorry...I'm selfish. I know I'm not supposed to be here. I should be thinking of Scorpius. It's not fair to you...but I...please...please let me do this...please..."

Then he was full of Draco, his smell, his touch, pulled forward once again into the gravity of Draco's mouth. He groaned at the first touch of tongue, hot and desperate as it slid into his mouth, Draco's fingers clutching Harry's shirt, then twining upwards into his hair, pulling him ever closer. Before he knew it, he was stumbling over his takeaway container and onto the couch, with Draco climbing on top of him, his mouth never leaving Harry's, though his fingers were busy tugging at the buttons on his denims.

He pushed Draco back. "Wait, wait..." He paused when Draco came away from him with a sound almost of pain, and tears began sliding down his face. He took a deep breath and continued, gentling his tone to a near whisper. "You're pissed, Draco. You made it abundantly clear that you didn't feel capable of maintaining any kind of... closeness with me. For you or for Scorpius. I don't want to take advantage-"

His words died in his throat at the sudden feeling of Draco grinding his arse into his erection. "Dutch courage, Potter." Draco's voice was quiet, his gaze intense, and all evidence of intoxication gone without trace. "It took quite a bit to work up the courage to come here tonight, but I made the decision to do it, to apologise, long before."

Harry reached up and tangled his fingers in the hair of Draco's nape, the familiar sound of Draco's gasp causing his cock to twitch in anticipation. "Apology accepted." He pulled Draco's head down, pulling their mouths together while he slid his other hand around the perfect curve of arse, pulling him flush and hard against him. Draco's whimper was a thing of pure want, and he was tempted to finish them off right there, but the lure of Draco spread beneath him was too much. Pulling Draco's head back, he ignored the noise of frustration, the clutching hands. "Bed. Now."

Draco seemed to collapse onto him briefly before pushing himself up and tugging Harry after him, not releasing the grip on his hand until the bedroom door closed behind them. Draco leaned into him again, but Harry stopped him once more. "You're certain...?"

Draco nodded, reaching up and tracing Harry's cheek. His touch was light, but left a spark like electricity in its wake. "I am. Please, Harry..."

It was almost like that first night all over again. The desperation of the first time was echoed in each touch. He had forgotten how perfect Draco felt against him, smooth long limbs, hands that knew just where to touch, where to grab. Neither seemed to have the patience for any teasing; they were both naked on the bed in less time than it took to blink. Draco handed him a familiar-looking vial, all the while whispering a constant stream of "please" and "Harry" and moaning when Harry popped the cork.

The smell was different. The sage was stronger, the sweetness more pronounced. He wondered briefly why Draco had changed the brew before the lure of Draco's body spread before him simply became too much. One finger, followed quickly by another, pushed into the tightness, Draco's mumblings becoming more and more profane as he writhed on Harry's fingers. He buried his face in the curls around Draco's cock, nuzzling it and filling his senses with the smell and feeling he'd spent the past months missing like a piece of himself. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much."

"Harry please. Please." Draco's voice sounded like he was on the verge of tears, so Harry pushed himself up, smearing the excess oil onto his cock and sliding in slowly. It was tight, and Draco made it tighter when his arms reached around his shoulders and his legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close, making it almost impossible to move. He realized he was grasping Draco just as tightly, arms wound beneath his shoulders, and gave up on anything but the faintest of rocking motions, focusing instead on the feel of hard warmth underneath him and the hot, slick wetness of Draco's mouth and tongue.

Too soon the need to thrust overwhelmed him, and he was forced to pull back enough to loosen Draco's grasp and allow himself to move. Draco continued attempting to pull him closer, seeming to require the slide of skin against skin. He reached down for Draco's cock, but was unable to do anything but hold it, letting it slide in his sweat-slick hand in time with his thrusts, watching Draco come undone underneath him. Each movement, each slide, each clench felt right in a way Harry had almost allowed himself to forget, and he was filled with a sense of possessiveness, some small part of him chanting mine mine mine.

He thought he may have spoken the thought aloud, for instead of closing his eyes as expected, Draco focused abruptly on Harry's face. His pupils were blown wide, leaving only a faint, slate-coloured ring around the black, but his expression was avid, staring, even as Harry felt hot wetness spread in his hand. He felt something important was happening, but was pulled inexorably over, burying his face in Draco's neck as his cock pulsed again and again. He clung to Draco, knew he whispered, "Please stay," thought he felt Draco's arms wrap around him before exhaustion overtook him, and he gave into darkness.

When he awoke the next morning, Draco was gone.

.oOoOo.

Friday, 25 June, 2010
Evening, The Duck and Kneazle, Sonning Common (Wizarding District), Oxfordshire

Harry was unsurprised when the owl from Penny arrived just before he made his way to dinner. He hadn't seen Draco's platinum blond head since arriving at the Puffskein Breeders Association Annual Convention that afternoon, so her apologetic letter asking him to cover interviews while Draco was indisposed simply made him snort. Indisposed was a convenient excuse when the truth of the matter was much more along the lines of cowardice. There had been no word after Draco pulled that disappearing act. When he'd been desperate enough to question Andromeda directly, she had simply shaken her head and said nothing.

Bastard.

Not that he was upset, really. He was just tired of being jerked around. Draco wanted him when he'd had too much to drink, but wound up regretting it and disappearing without a trace in the morning. He shook his head and sighed when he realized he was still standing in the middle of the lobby, crumpling the scroll in his fist and causing passing witches and wizards to stare.

Well, that was fine. He'd known Draco was pissed and that it was likely to blow up in his face. He'd done it anyway, and the only excuse he could claim was that he was half-asleep, half-drunk, and had allowed his libido to take over long enough to get him into that position. Not anymore. He'd been thinking about settling down; maybe this was the kick in the pants he needed. Relationships took effort, so all this effort he'd put into trying to figure Draco out, he'd put into finding...someone.

He grimaced at the voice in the back of his head insisting he didn't want someone, he wanted a specific blond git. A stupidly unavailable blond git who refused to do relationships. A stupid blond git who talked his way into his bed with apologies and tears only to disappear without a trace in the morning. Harry bypassed the tables and made his way straight to the bar.

.oOoOo.

Monday, 28 June, 2010
Morning, Office of the Daily Prophet, Diagon Alley, London

"You're here early, Harry." Penny smiled brightly at him from behind her large desk, which was already showing the first signs of daily clutter. "Got my stuff?"

He nodded and handed the file across the desk to her, sitting in one of the chairs as he did so.

"Pictures...excellent as usual..." There was a pause as she sorted through the stack, then picked up the parchment beneath. Her grimace was quick and she looked up at him. "Really, Harry. How did you graduate Hogwarts with writing like this?"

He gave a distracted shrug, staring out the charmed window behind her desk, letting the steady flow of the waves soothe him. "You don't hire me for the writing..."

She sighed. "Damn Draco for getting sick. Worst timing, too. Well, maybe I'll forward this on to him, and see if he can make something of it now that he's out of Mungo's."

"Wait, St Mungo's?" Harry's head snapped around to Penny quickly enough that he felt a twinge. "Draco was in St Mungo's? Is he alright?"

She nodded absently, pulling out a quill and marking up the parchment in red ink. "Yeah, said he thought it was food poisoning. Messy and uncomfortable while it lasts, but nothing an overnight and some nutrition potions can't handle."

"Oh..."

She grinned up at him. "Nothing fatal, I promise. You two will be on the road again in no time..."

He nodded and pushed himself up from his seat. "Sounds good. I'll see you around, Penny."

She nodded before going back to his parchment. "I'll see about getting this fit for print by...Thursday."

When he left the Prophet offices, he Apparated quickly to Andromeda's house. No one answered his knock, so he made his way home instead.

.oOoOo.

Wednesday, 7 July, 2010
Mid-afternoon, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire

Harry approached the imposing gates of Malfoy Manor with his heart in his throat. The story on the Puffskein convention had appeared the previous Wednesday in the Prophet, showing all the normal signs of Draco's wit. He'd sent an owl to the Manor, a trite and uncomfortable "Sorry you were sick" that received no reply. Then today an imposing eagle owl arrived on his windowsill, bearing a scroll requesting his presence at the Manor at his earliest convenience. He sent a reply confirming he'd be there after lunch, offering the owl a bit of leftover toast before sending it on its way.

And now, he was standing in front of Malfoy Manor. He wished Draco had said something else, given some clue as to why he was here. Maybe then he'd feel capable of doing something other than standing and staring at the gates.

As if prompted by his indecision, the gates swung open with a quiet 'creak', leaving him with no choice but to move up the path. The gravel beneath his boots crunched quietly, and the air was heavy and humid, filled with the sound of insects and the smell of flowers and grasses. He approached the heavy front door, which opened as he neared it; a small house elf wearing a starched white pillowcase was waiting in the doorway for him.

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir! You is expected! Master Draco wishes Mipsy to bring you to the Green Parlour! Please be following Mipsy, Mr. Harry Potter, sir!" She bowed repeatedly, sending her ears flapping, before turning and trotting off. He sighed and followed her down wood-panelled hallways and up a flight of stairs before the elf paused at a door that seemed identical to all the others he'd seen.

Mipsy knocked, and Draco's voice was muffled by the heavy wood. "Come in." She opened the door, bowed twice more to Harry and disappeared with a quiet 'pop'. He stepped slowly into the room, having time to note the soothing shade of sea-green painted on the walls before there was an explosion of pain in the side of his face and he fell backwards. An enraged Draco raising his hand for a second blow filled his vision.

"Ow! What the fuck!" One hand cupped his throbbing cheek while the other frantically reached in his pocket for his wand.

"What the fuck did you do? Did you switch it? Conjure some? Decide to just use yours?" Draco was breathing quickly, face flushed and body trembling, but seemed to be restraining himself from landing another punch.

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. Switch what for chrissakes?"

"The lube! What did you do?"

Harry dropped his head and rubbed his forehead, feeling exhausted by the situation. "Draco, I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about. I used your stupid lube. I always used it." He looked up and saw Draco shaking his head, tears running down his face. "What?"

"I'm pregnant." Draco's voice was quiet and flat, his expression carefully blank for all that his face was covered in tears.

"Excuse me?" He didn't really feel he needed it repeated-the words echoed quite clearly in his head-but, were it not for Draco's expression, he would have suspected a joke.

"Pregnant. Up the duff. You knocked me up. Bun in the-"

"Okay, okay, pregnant...how?"

Draco sighed and walked further into the room, collapsing on a delicate-looking chair. "Obviously, something went wrong with the lube." He buried his face in his hands briefly before looking up at Harry. "The lubricant was brewed to prevent any chance of pregnancy. I could take a potion, but it's a daily dose, and I...I don't..."

"You're not doing anything often enough for that."

Draco nodded, gaze fixed on the swirling patterns of the rug. "I'm sorry. I brew it myself. It should have worked..." His voice trailed off, and Harry sat a moment watching his hands tremble before he felt able to move. He pushed himself up from his position on the floor and walked slowly over to Draco, finally resting a hand on his shoulder.

"It will be alri-"

"It will be alright? How will it be alright? I'm going to have a baby, Potter! Your fucking baby." Draco jerked himself away and began pacing. "What am I supposed to do this time? Sorry, Scorpius, I know your father left, but now I'm going to have another baby so its father can leave us too?"

"Wait, you carried Scorpius?"

"Who did you think carried Scorpius?"

"I assumed you were bi. I found out exactly three minutes ago that men could get pregnant, so forgive me for making a mistake!"

Draco stopped pacing, glancing at Harry with a helpless expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"Damn right you didn't think. You never seem to think! You appear and disappear, run hot and cold, then punch me in the face and accuse me of intentionally doing this? So you didn't think what? That I'd planned this? That I'm a convenient shag when you're drunk and you can disappear and cut me out when you wake up and regret it? What exactly is it that you didn't think?"

The pallor of Draco's shocked face caused guilt to begin to seep in past the frustration and anger. Both of them stood in silence at either end of the room for a moment before Draco raised shaking hands to smooth down the front of his robes. "I..." Draco swallowed and took a breath before speaking again. "You're right. I...my apologies. I was wrong, I shouldn't have...I...I'll...I'll take care of this."

"Draco-" Harry took a step forward, stopping when Draco matched it with a step away.

"It's alright. You didn't know this was a possibility and I shouldn't...I shouldn't have kept that from you."

"Draco, wait-"

"I shouldn't have called you here. When I found out, I should have just dealt with it-"

"For fuck's sake, Draco, will you shut up and listen?" Draco's mouth shut with a snap, and he wrapped his arms around himself, clutching with a white-knuckled grip. "I don't want you to deal with it alone. I want to be there with you, with Scorpius and with..." he trailed off waving vaguely at Draco's belly. "I...I can't do that if you don't talk to me, if you just disappear all the time." He paused, scrubbing his hand through his hair before taking another tentative step towards Draco. "We can't do this as a not-a-relationship."

Draco was shaking his head even while Harry continued to speak, though he allowed the slow approach. "I can't. I can't do this."

"Why? I'm good enough to sleep with but not good enough to be around your kids? Is this because of Teddy?"

"What? Teddy? No-"

"Then why? Why not try?" He had finally reached Draco and grasped his arms, reminding himself he couldn't actually shake sense into that blond head.

"Because I love you, you idiot! I've loved you since sixth fucking year!"

Harry's hands clutched instinctively, which was the only thing that prevented Draco from fleeing while his mind reeled with the words. He was almost certain he must be misunderstanding. "You...love me?"

"Of course I do! Do you think I let just anyone fuck me?"

Draco's continued tugging pulled Harry's attention back, and he fought the daze. "How could I know? You told me repeatedly that you didn't do relationships, and you only stopped calling me Potter and let me know you were interested when you were drunk."

"Well, what else was I supposed to do? You wanted me, but you didn't want me." Draco finally managed to jerk his arms from Harry's grip and took a step back, turning slightly. "I'm not stupid. You thought I was attractive, but you never once thought of me out of bed."

Harry sighed, frustrated. "There is so much wrong with that statement, I don't know whether to shake you or...Merlin, Draco! I'm not going to push for a relationship with someone who has a panic attack when the word is even implied in conversation! I took what I could get and didn't let myself think about more."

"You would just leave me."

"Fucking hell! Stop pretending you're a Seer! You don't know that, you don't know anything about what I would do, or what I've been thinking about. I mean, yes, at first I just wanted you but then I started to like you. And if you were always a first-class git, this would have been a one-off. But I didn't want a one-off with you, I never did!" Harry pulled Draco closer, wrapping his arms tightly around the faintly shaking frame. "All I've wanted for months is for you to stay."

As if his words cut the strings holding Draco tense, he collapsed into his arms, crying quietly. "I'm scared. I'm so scared. I don't know if I can do this again if you leave me..."

Harry sighed. "I won't. I want you, not just the baby and not just in bed."

"But you don't love me."

"I didn't know it was an option. But please let me try."

.oOoOo.

Friday, 12 October, 2012
Late afternoon, The Scarlet Otter Inn, Llanveynoe (Wizarding District), Herefordshire

"Scorpius! Put that salamander down!" Draco's attention swung between the elderly wizard he'd been speaking to and his son and back in an instant. Scorpius aimed a contrite smile at Draco's back before grinning up at Harry in time for the flash of the camera.

"Perfect, but you should listen to your Papa, squirt." Harry grinned as Scorpius heaved a sigh and placed the salamander back on its candle. He ruffled the boy's white-blond hair briefly before Scorpius turned and took off down another aisle. Draco sent him a quick, pleading look and he nodded, still chuckling quietly to himself as he followed in the six-year-old's wake.

The six of them had arrived early that day, as had become the new habit over the past year. Harry and Draco were still doing these conventions for work, and Andromeda and Narcissa tagged along nominally to mind the kids. He snorted to himself, pausing to get a close-up of a surprisingly pink-tinted salamander dozing quietly on another candle while keeping an ear out for signs of destruction in the direction Scorpius had disappeared in. Watching the kids usually meant showing off little Lyra to anyone standing still long enough to be caught, and making indulgent "Boys will be boys" comments when Scorpius got himself into trouble. He suspected some kind of Slytherin mother revenge plot, but wasn't dumb enough to call them out on it.

As if on cue, a shout from the next aisle over pulled him from his thoughts and he hurried in that direction. He quickly took in the scene: the toppled candle, the angry wizard, the boy with a salamander dancing across his fingers. He had to resist the urge to snap another picture until he saw Narcissa and Andromeda approaching from the other side, Lyra toddling behind, clinging to Narcissa's robes.

Harry felt a warm clench in his chest as he watched Andromeda right the candle and rescue the salamander from Scorpius while Narcissa charmed the red-faced wizard out of his angry bluster. Lyra was hopping, her black curls bouncing as she clung to Scorpius' arm, trying to see over the table at the still-agitated salamander. He raised the camera to eye-level and was about to press the shutter button when he felt an arm reach around his waist. He glanced at Draco and returned his smile, the warm clench now almost overwhelming. He took the picture then leaned over and brushed a kiss against Draco's cheek before wrapping an arm around his shoulder and tugging him to join the rest of his family.

Family; not what he would have expected, but his all the same. He took a deep breath, surprised as always that the fierce love he felt for them left enough room in his chest for air. His face split in a grin that was almost painful in its intensity. It was family. It was his. fin