(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.

I again thank you all for the reviews, follows and favorites. I'm glad I extended this... but now it's over.

Warnings: MalexMale slash. Little bit o' smut. Language.

Enjoy. :))

Harry sighs but leans back, walking around Draco with a resigned air about him. He's expecting to be yelled at. He knows he'll take some of it but he's not going to let Ron make him out to be the one at fault. "Hey, mate," he says quietly, walking into the room where Ron's sitting. He's got a small glass of amber liquid perched on his thigh and his head resting on his palm.

"Hey," Ron says, watching Harry sit awkwardly. He clears his throat and sets the glass down on the nearest table, leaning forward. "Look, stop giving me those sad eyes, mate. I can't handle it. I'm not pissed at you, Harry," he says with a sigh. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't being a complete wanker and feeling guilty."

Harry can't help the small smile as he shakes his head. He does notice when Draco sidles into the room but he doesn't take his attention off Ron, not even when the blonde perches his arse right on his chair and drapes himself over his shoulders. He's not sure why Draco is being so hands-on in front of Ron, but he doesn't mind. Not really. Ron doesn't appear too bothered by it either, after the initial grimace.

"No," he finally says, giving Ron the benefit of a verbal answer. He eyes the red-head carefully. "You aren't mad at me?"

Ron sighs again and wipes a hand over his face. "No, how can I be, mate? After what Ginny did..." he trails off, shaking his head sadly. He truly can't understand why his little sister would do such a thing. Well, he can, but he's appalled she had gone through with it. And none of them even knew! "Mum cried-" His eyes widen a bit and he starts flailing his hands around when Harry's shoulders slumped. "But she was horrified at Ginny's actions!" he says quickly. "Mum felt so bad she'd do something like that to you." His eyes slowly shift to look at Draco, nodding his head once, "And you."

"Me?" Draco asks, gaping ever-so-slightly and poking a finger in his own chest. Sure, he had gotten smothered by Mrs. Weasley's amble bosom the first time Harry had brought him 'round, but he hadn't thought the Weasley matriarch liked him that much. It had taken him a few visits to get used to the woman's near constant hugging and pushing food at him until he was ready to explode, the woman gleefully using his manners against him knowing he wouldn't outright refuse. He had only ever admitted to Harry that he didn't exactly hate the show of affection. Especially considering he expected to be treated with only the merest civility or politeness when he had first gotten with Harry.

Ron nods, snorting. "Yeah, she felt right terrible about Ginny stealing Harry from ya. She thought you were adorable," he says with a grimace, showing what he thought of such a thing. He can't help grinning when Draco mimics the grimace, not a fan of being labeled 'adorable', either. Of course, his mum had a thing for strays and he figured only a mum could think a git like Malfoy as adorable. Well... mums and Harry -the daft bugger.

"Oh," Draco says slowly, softly. He glares when Harry pokes him, an 'I told you so' look on his face. "Don't smirk, it doesn't suit you," he mutters, gently smacking the back of Harry's head. "Right, well, if she can refrain from choking me with her... hugs, I think she's quite nice as well."

Ron gives a non-committal shrug, unwilling to make such promises. His mum is a hugger, even prats like Malfoy, and he knows better than to think the blonde won't be hugged until he was bruised when his mum finds out. "Well, still," he says and stands. "I just wanted to stick behind, make you promise you won't avoid us all because of this."

"I won't."

Ron narrows his eyes and studies Harry closely. He inclines his head, satisfied to see Harry is telling the truth. He's relieved, of course, but also quite happy. His mum would have been beside herself if everything that happened had caused Harry to distance himself from the Weasleys. He certainly wouldn't blame him. He shook his head, feeling bemused. "Good. Mum said she'll see you on Sunday then." He doesn't make a question and he's not all that surprised to see Harry's shoulders relax a bit. He claps Harry on the shoulder, grinning widely. "I'm pretty sure we're having pot roast."

"And those little potatoes?" Harry immediately asks, holding his thumb and index finger about an inch apart. He loves those things and has yet to be able to duplicate Mrs. Weasley's recipe. He's still put out she refuses to share it with him, probably fearing she'd never see him again if he could master his favorite dish on his own. Ron nods and he can't help pumping his fist a little in victorious excitement.

Draco watches the exchange, a small smile on his face. He's glad Harry's not killing himself with guilt and he's rather grateful to Weasel for offering both a distraction and reassurance. He blinks when he realizes both men are staring at him, matching amused expressions on their faces. "Hm?"

"I said; you're to come as well, Malfoy," Ron says, smirking when Draco's eyes widen a fraction and his lips part ever-so-slightly. For Malfoy, it's the equivalent of gaping stupidly and his eyes bugging out. "But do prepare yourself for hugging and lots of back slapping," he says, sounding a little apologetic. His dad had taken to the Slytherin too, once it became obvious how little like Lucius Draco is. (And it mostly helped that Draco had gifted Arthur the secret of his own Muggle collection; the pair sneaking off a few times to admire it.) He fully expected his dad to offer lots of reassuring back slaps and Muggle liquor.

Draco nods slowly. Right. Of course. He looks at Harry and feels any sort of refusal melt at the warm, expectantly hopeful look on his face. How unfair is that, being manipulated by a sappy Gryffindor? "Right. Yes. Thank you," he manages to say after a few moments. He jumps a bit when he's suddenly hugged from the side and just wraps an arm around Harry. He grins when Ron rolls his eyes, a tiny smile on his face even as he looks a bit put out. "Dinner's at six, yeah?"

"Yep," Ron nods. He stares at the couple for a moment, oddly relieved to see them together again. It had been a bit weird seeing Harry with Gin, even if he hadn't objected. He feels another wash of guilt, pissed at himself (and nearly his entire family) for not realizing how off everything was. Or for so long. He shakes his shoulders a bit, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Things are set to rights now and that's what's important. He extends his hand, giving both wizards a firm shake before he heads towards the door.

Harry hurries to follow, needing a last word in private. Once they are at the door, he steps closer and drops his voice just below a whisper. "You're mum and dad won't mind Draco coming?" he asks nervously. He probably won't end up going, little potatoes or not, if Draco isn't going to be welcome. He can't risk that sort of thing again. Not that any of the other Weasleys would do the same as Ginevra had, but... just, if they aren't going to go somewhere together, he's not interested. He feels a bit clingy at the notion, but he can't shake it. For now...

"Of course," Ron answers just as quietly. He squeezes Harry's shoulder, leaving his hand there for a moment. "Mum will be beside herself and dad... well, he'll probably bring out that Tek... Tork... that wormy Muggle liquor for the special occasion," he says, giving up trying to prounouce the Muggle liquor his dad and Malfoy seemed to share a fondness for. He loved watching the two down little glasses of the stuff since they got a bit giggly after the third one.

Harry beams a smile at Ron and rushes forward to hug him tightly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Ron says, his voice muffled by Harry and maybe some emotion. He does the 'let go now' double pat and grins when Harry hurriedly backs again, scrubbing at his cheeks. "Sunday," he repeats and lets himself out.

Harry stares at the closed door, letting out a long exhale of relief. He doesn't start when arms circle his waist, merely turns his face into Draco's neck and just relaxes in Draco's comforting hold.

..:|:..

"And you see!" Arthur slurs, gesturing wildly with his half-full shot glass. A good portion of the Tequila slops over the side to splash his pants but he doesn't notice.

Draco nods vigorously. "I do!" he cries gleefully, dissolving into a fit of giggles. This is only his third time at the Weasley's. It's been torture up until Mr. Weasley -uh... Arthur asked him if he wanted to try an new sort of drink. He thought it would be a new sort of Elf Wine. Or maybe a nice Veela-made port. He hadn't expected a Muggle liquor and had nearly sneered and pushed the glass off of the table. He paused, finger outstretched and pressed against the glass, when the image of Harry's disappointed face flitted through his mind. He cursed softly and drank the shot-glass' contents merely to say he had tried. That had been about 10 minutes and three drinks ago. Now... Well, now he's completely off his tits. And giggling. With Arthur Weasley. In a tiny, too-warm shed.

He goes into another burst of giggles at the thought of 'tits'; funny things, them -all squishy and round. He wrinkled his face up in mild disgust. Suddenly he's on his back, staring up at a bemused Harry. His face breaks into a wide smile; seeing Harry always makes his heart smile. "Harry," he says, his voice full of awe and affection. When did Harry get on the ceiling? He giggles again, wondering if Harry had a sticking charm on his bum. That would be terrible, he realizes and his giggles dry up. He likes Harry's bum, a lot, and it would be horrible if it's inaccessible.

"Draco," Harry says softly, smiling despite his earlier irritation. He had been annoyed (verging on pissed off) when he couldn't find Draco and that no one had seen him for nearly 15 minutes. He went off looking for his blonde, half-convinced Draco had just up and left until he heard the distinct sound of giggling from one of Arthur's 'Muggle shed's. The door took a bit to open and a completely sloshed Draco came tumbling out with the opened door. The git had been leaning on it. "What are you doing?"

It's quite obvious what Draco is doing; drinking Muggle liquor with Arthur Weasley. A flush of warmth goes through him at the notion that his boyfriend is making an effort to get along with the Weasleys.

"'M drinkin' wit' Art'r, Harry," Draco says carefully, giving his Harry a beatific smile when he remembers to say 'Arthur' and not 'Mr. Weasley'. He's beginning to wondering if he's a bit drunk when there are two, slightly fuzzy, Harrys now smiling at him. He coos and reaches up, making grabby hands at one of the Harrys. He loves it when Harry gives him that look -like there are little cartoon hearts in his beautiful green eyes. "C'mere," he whispers loudly.

Harry gives Draco an odd look, but bends at the waist and lowers himself to Draco's imploringly wiggling fingers. He squeaks when he's roughly grabbed and kissed. It's a bit sloppy, as well as upside down, but nice nonetheless because Draco is making happy little humming sounds in the back of his throat. Harry pulls back a little and manages to get far enough way from Draco's grip to set himself the proper way over his drunk Slytherin. "Just how drunk are you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Draco looks completely smashed. His cheeks are pink from the liquor and his hair is all mussed up, sticking up in odd spots. It's quite an adorably endearing sight, really. Draco will be utterly mortified later, of course.

"'M not," Draco immediate disagrees. He knows he is but it's undignified to be caught in such a state. Even by his Harry. He giggles again and pulls Harry flush against his body, their chests and hips tightly pressed together. "You're sexy," he leans up just enough to whisper loudly in Harry's ear and nip at his neck. Harry's neck is sexy, too. And his arms. And his legs. And his bum -especially his bum. His hands travel to each spot, squeezing and fondling as he does so. "Oh, an' your cock," he says, almost reverently, his hand sliding around from Harry's bum to cup his crotch firmly. He grins wickedly when he feels movement against his palm.

Harry jumps a bit, his eyes darting up to see Arthur slumped in his chair, snoring softly. Thank Merlin for small favors. He still has no interest in being groped in front of Mr. Weasley, even if the older man isn't conscious to witness it. Anyone could wander back towards the shed, too. "Yes, thank you love," he says soothingly, pulling Draco's hands away. "We've an audience," he reminds the blonde when hands are back on his bum, squeezing and trying to work down the back of his jeans. Draco isn't an 'open affection' sort of person and he thought the reminder would have his blonde remembering himself and stop.

"So?" Draco murmurs, leaning up to mouth and nip at Harry's neck and shoulder. "Mmm," he hums, licking along the skin. Harry tastes all tangy and sweet. How does he do that? "Is it a potion?" he murmurs, blissfully unaware he's asked aloud. He buries his face back in Harry's neck, using the hands he's got firmly on Harry's perfect bum to push their hips together. He sighs happily, shifts his thighs to either side of Harry's and starts to wiggle and roll his hips.

Harry tries to wriggle out of Draco's hold, but only manages in making Draco hum and moan softly in pleasure as the friction makes his horny little Slytherin hold on that much tighter. "Draco. We're on the floor," he says breathlessly. He's probably not going to be able to be rational for long -even drunk, Draco know how to touch him just so to get him incoherent. He needs to get them upright and soon; he's not going to be able to carry Draco if he passes out either from over indulging or because he's finally brought himself off.

"So?" Draco mutters petulantly. Why isn't Harry doing anything? "Stop bein' so mean, Harry," he whines softly, angling his head so he can kiss and nip at Harry's neck again. "Gimme your lips," he demands, using a hand to turn Harry's face towards him. He crashes his lips to Harry's, his coordination a bit off so it's messy and a little misaligned but it's still nice. He blinks when he's suddenly bereft of Harry's mouth and body pressed wonderfully to him. "Wha?"

Harry snorts and gently lifts Draco by the front of his shirt. He's glad his boyfriend is still conscious enough for the featherweight charm to work. He works Draco upright and kisses the tip of his nose. "You're pissed love. You'd kill me if I let you continue," he says, sounding amused but sad to have had to stop, too. He pulls Draco close, sighing softly when Horny Draco turns into Mushy Draco in seconds. He smiles when he's caressed with clumsy but loving strokes and there are soft words of love and affection being whispered in his ear.

"Thank you, love," Draco whispers, his voice finally quiet in a proper whisper. He feels tears prick at his eyes; Harry is so sweet, giving up an orgasm so he wouldn't embarrass himself. "You're too good for me," he confesses, clinging to Harry tightly, afraid Harry will agree and leave him in that tiny shed. Harry doesn't, of course, and he's so relieved he has to give his Harry another kiss. It's less sloppy, he actually gets Harry's lips aligned with his just right. He doesn't rush or make it sexy, he just wants to try to shove all his love and adoration in that kiss. He touches the side of Harry's face tenderly with one hand and cups his hip with the other.

Harry pulls away reluctantly, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist so his blonde doesn't think he's being rejected. Any more of those kisses and they'd end up forgetting Arthur completely and defiling the little shed. "I'm just right for you," he says quietly. He chuckles softly when Draco makes a strange sound and wraps himself tightly around Harry's chest. "C'mon, let's go home, yeah?" He feels Draco nod and he sends a quick Patronus, giving his apologies and making sure no one worries about where they are.

..:|:..

After long moments spent staring off, but standing still, Draco moves and gently pulls Harry back into the sitting room. He flops into the larger chair, easing Harry down with him. They're quiet for long moments, their thoughts probably quite similar. In some ways, it feels like there hasn't been a nearly three-year gap in their relationship. In others, it feels like they're starting over. He's oddly comforted and calm about it all, though. He nuzzles his nose against Harry's neck. "We're OK?" he asks quietly, wondering what Harry's thinking.

He leans back enough to watch the emotions flit across Harry's face. As usual, he's grateful Harry is so easy to read; he's rarely kept out of the other man's thought processes and true feelings.

"We will be," Harry finally says. He feels Draco huff out a soft laugh and nod; whether in agreement or acceptance, he's not sure. But he's glad for either, relieved Draco isn't upset or demanding more. He settles back against Draco's chest and just relaxes. Tomorrow is Sunday and he's excited and scared to go to the Weasley's. As if reading his thoughts, he feels Draco's arms tighten in a comforting squeeze.

He smiles and squeezes back. He'll have Draco there with him and he's extremely grateful for that.