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Title: Brevis Birch's Brilliant Boondoggle Author Name: DevientGrey Rating: M Paring: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter

Genre: Romance, Humour Era: Post-Hogwarts Career: Length: Oneshot Words: 12,000 Warning: Summary: "You," Birch pointed at the two flabbergasted Seekers again, "will pretend to be in a long term, committed relationship. You will do interviews and photo shoots, go on dates, buy one another gifts, make with the PDA, all of it." Disclaimer: Author's Notes: Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7383529/1/bBrevis_b_bBirch_bs_bBrilliant_b_bBoondoggle_b Brevis Birch's Brilliant Boondoggle The plaque sitting on the man's desk proclaimed: Brevis Birch Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports Harry stared at it so he wouldn't have to look at the man sitting next to him as they waited for Birch to arrive for their meeting. The summons had come at barely four in the morning, begging Harry to please join Birch in his office promptly at five. The Ministry wasn't even open at five a.m.! Harry had rolled blearily out of bed, grumbling to himself about insane Quidditch captains, self-important Ministry officials, and stupid, jealous former Slytherins who didn't know how to just shut up! Malfoy had found it necessary to crash the party Puddlemere United had been throwing to celebrate the addition of Gallia Gettermore to the team. The younge Chaser had been sought after by every squad in the league and Harry felt quite proud when she chose to sign with United over Malfoy's team. The Falmouth Falcons had not been happy and Harry was sure that Malfoy had come to the party to let their irritation be known. Harry had confronted the other Seeker as soon as he saw him walk through the door and it had gone downhill from there. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he and Malfoy, who was sitting stiffly next to him, were going to be chastised or fined for starting a public brawl. Honestly, it wasn't like anyone suffered more than a black eye or bloody lip or in United Beater Vepp's case, cow ears, tongue, and tail. Harry was sure that the Mediwizards at Saint Mungo's would be able to sort that out and really, he did feel bad about hitting Vepp with that particular hex. Really.. Okay, so the guy was kind of a git and Harry had, in actuality, been aiming for him. But everybody thought he had simply missed Malfoy and hit Vepp instead so far be it for him to disabuse them of that notion. And it wasn't like the guy couldn't play whilst resembling a bovine. "Sorry to keep you waiting gentlemen," Birch walked in and took his seat behind his desk, "You wouldn't believe the night I have had." At that, Harry and Malfoy did turn to look at one another. Perhaps this wasn't about the United/Falcon scrap last night. "And no, this isn't about your absolutely atrocious behavior last night, but don't think I don't know about it." Birch said, making Harry wonder if he had been using Legillimens on them. "Actuallyyou know what?"

Harry didn't like that. Whatever it was they were here for, he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it and with Birch's expressionhe had a feeling he was going to be forcefully involved in something he wanted no part of. "I thinkyes. In return for meforgetting about last night's incident, you will do something for me in return." Birch was smiling somewhat sinisterly now. "You see gentlemen, you were not the only members of the English Quidditch League getting themselves into trouble lately." Next to Harry, Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "I take it from your expression that these other trouble-makers wrought far more havoc than we did." Malfoy stated. "Quite the havoc Mr. Malfoy. You see," Birch rummaged through the papers on his desk, "Ah, here they are." He handed small stacks of letters and newspapers to the two men across from him. "As you can see, the media has gotten wind of this particular scandal and there are several prominent andgenerous benefactors to the Department of Magical Games and Sports that have taken this incident, er, badly." Harry looked down at the papers in his hands. Quidditch Coach and Mates Verbally Attack Gay Bar Patrons Quidditch Stars Play Cruel Prank on Gay Muggle Couple "We Don't Want No Shirt Lifters in This League" Says One Star Keeper Next to him, Malfoy seemed to be engrossed in the letters Birch had mentioned. Harry was outraged. He scanned the articles and found something very, very interesting. "I don't understand," said Malfoy, "Straight or gayyou're just born that way. How can someone hate other people over the way they were born?" Harry almost called Hypocrite! but the war was long over and his arse still ached from the round of stinging hexes Malfoy had hit him with the night before. Instead, he said, "All of the people involved are members of the Society of Righteousness and Goodliness." At Malfoy's and Birch's blank looks, he continued, "They are a group of wizards and witches that have adopted the preaching's of certain Muggles that view homosexuality as a sin against nature and a disgusting deviation. Of course, they have other views as well they believe in white supremacy, that is, those of Caucasian skin colour being superior to persons of other skin colours; they think that women should be subservient to their fathers and husbands; and they regard the poor and destitute as unworthy of help or compassion because those people deserve their situation due to their 'laziness and lack of intelligence' is how their information pamphlets put it." "And how do you know all of this, Potter? Better yet, how do you know that all of these people are members of this Society?" Birch asked. "Hermione, you know she works in the Ministry Department of Law Enforcement Hate Group Observation and Prevention Division. She has been up in arms the last few months over these guys and insisted on making me aware of the Society members that are also in the League." Harry answered. "You know, 'cause I'm gay and she wanted me to be aware of possiblehostility I might encounter." "Hmmm. Well. It helps to know that now. I wish she had informed me of this fact," Birch almost snarled in aggravation.

"She did. She told me she sent several reports to you and tried to meet with you twice to make sure you understood them," Harry snapped. "Shedid? Oh, well. You know how backed up I am what with the World Cup coming up and all." Birch mopped his head with a handkerchief. "Ah. Speaking of which, congratulations gentlemen on making the English National Team, I look forward to watching you trounce Transylvania especially. Do you know yet which one of you has made starter?" Harry shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He waited for the triumphant cry from Malfoy over making starter, but instead he heard Malfoy reply, "It was decided that Potter and I share the starter position, each playing every other game, because Captain Flint could not decide which of us was the better fit." "Wait, what?" Harry was shocked. He had thought that since he hadn't heard from Flint in the two weeks since the one-on-one exhibition he and Malfoy had played that Malfoy had been chosen. "Honestly, Potter. Do you not open your mail? Flint sent us the announcement over a week ago and it was even published in the English National player bulletin." Malfoy sneered. Harry flushed. He must have passed that particular letter over in a rush one day. "Back on topic, gentlemen, if you please," Birch interrupted, "We still have a serious problem on our hands. Many of our sponsors for the World Cup have threatened to pull out due to the action of these Society people and several Ministries from other nations have expressed theirabject disapproval of what they see as an English League wide problem." "And you have called us here to help do damage control," Harry guessed. At Birch's nod, he continued, "I know I am going to regret asking this but, how do you think Malfoy and I can help?" "Well," Birch began, "I think it would be a good idea to do somepublicity." "Publicity." Malfoy deadpanned. "Yes. You two are by far the most successful, loved, and outstanding players the League has seen in, well, decades. And, you're both gay." At this, Harry and Malfoy turned to one another. Harry knew that few people were aware of his sexuality and it appeared Malfoy was the same. "Er. And how do you know that, Birch?" Harry ventured to ask. "Research," was his only reply. "O-kay. And what, you want us to do a public outing extravaganza or something? Do a story for Quidditch Weekly or Wizard to Wizard magazine? Show people that there are gay wizards in the League and that not everyone thinks the way those idiots do?" Malfoy asked and Harry found himself agreeing that those sounded like possibilities. "More," said Birch with a smirk and Harry thought he must have been a Slytherin for how wicked it looked, "What I am going to propose will not only dissolve this ugly Society mess, it could very well boost your careers and interest in Quidditch itself." "And how do you figure to do that?" Harry wanted to know. "Simple. Various studies performed over the past few years have shown that inter squad romances are very popular with fans and one very thorough, very large poll conducted last Valentine's Day showed that you two," Birch pointed at Harry and Malfoy, "are by far the most popular pairing that fans want to see in real life. An overwhelming majority voted for the two of you."

Harry was beginning to feel a little nauseated. "Wait, wait, wait." Malfoy looked little better. "Please tell me you are not about to suggest that Potter and I" Malfoy gulped, "pretend to bein a, a.bloody hell I can't even say it!" "A relationship Mr. Malfoy," Birch was grinning like a shark now. "What!" Harry squeaked, though he would deny that it was anything other than a manly growl later. "You," Birch pointed at the two flabbergasted Seekers again, "will pretend to be in a long term, committed relationship. You will do interviews and photo shoots, go on dates, buy one another gifts, make with the PDA, all of it. Your popularity will soar, the crowds at matches will soar, and this whole Society business will be swept under the rug." "Erg." Harry said. Malfoy had his face in his hands. He almost appeared to be weeping; until he lifted his head and Harry saw that he was, in fact, laughing. "And how," Malfoy giggle, he giggled! "How do you plan on explaining the fact that just last night Potter and I were hexing each other like we did back at Hogwarts? That's not exactly the way committed lovers would behave." "Well obviously Mr. Potter was drunk and still rather upset about the fight you two had yesterday morning about," Birch waved a hand in the air, "something, and with you egging him on by crashing what should have been a team-only celebrationhe reacted somewhat emotionally." Harry snorted. "Of course, you two did make up immediately following the brouhaha in the way thatlovers are want to do." Birch finished with a lewd grin. "Ah ha. And what makes you think that we will agree to do this in the first place," Malfoy wanted to know. "There were no reporters, or other outsiders, at the party last night. No one knows about it. The other United players have already been warned to stay quiet and the staff at Saint Mungo's is under the impression that Vepp met with an unfortunate accident while drunkenly sparring with a teammate." The former Tornado Captain stated. "It would be a shame if the World Cup Committee on Player Conduct found out about it and barred the two of you from playing on the English National team." "Blackmail it is then." Malfoy deadpanned. It was the most idiotic plan Harry had ever heard of. He thought he might throw up. DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 2: Swooning By the Sea After going over some of the basics what they going to tell their friends and families being the most important it was decided that the story would be thus: 1. They had been together for almost seven months but had decided very early on not to tell anyone due to obvious reasons, such as their volatile history and the fact that their friends would mostly likely blow their tops, 2. That they had recently decided to move in together, which is what their argument had been about in case Harry's teammates asked,

3. That, because they were moving in together, they found it necessary to share news of their relationship with everyone and, 4. Due to the activities of the Society, they had decided to show the Wizarding world that not everyone in the English League thought the same as those bigots by going public with their commitment to one another. Harry drank down another bottle of stomach calming potion, grimacing at the taste. "Honestly, Potter. I refuse to be romantically linked with someone who is abuses potions. I will not be accused of dating an addict." Malfoy drawled. "Well maybe if you wouldn't continue to make me feel sick I wouldn't have to take so many of the damned things," Harry bit back. Malfoy rolled his eyes. They were currently at Harry's flat packing up his things to be moved in to Malfoy's cottage. Harry found it somewhat amusing that the haughty Slytherin resided in a cottage. They had just about finished when Harry's floo flared. A piece of rolled parchment drifted into the room. It was his lease contract for the flat and the rented furniture, waiting to be signed. Harry did so quickly, not really upset to be leaving the place that had functioned as little more than his sleeping quarters for nigh on three years. They left, taking the shrunken boxes of Harry's things with them. DHDHDHDHDHDH They reappeared next to the sea. Harry could smell the salt water and hear the waves crashing against the rocks. When he opened his eyes, he gasped. That wasn't a cottage! At least, not like what Harry had imagined. But, Merlin was it beautiful! They stood on a grassy cliff, overlooking the ocean. A white picket fence and wasn't that picturesque? circled the house. Numerous trees, bushes, and flower beds had been planted providing a boost of colour to the scene. The house itself was incredible. Standing at least three stories tall and made of riversmoothed stones and white-washed wood siding, it boasted a wraparound porch and balconies on both the second and third stories. Two large windows framed by dark gray shutters graced the front of the house on every floor. A set of huge French doors, made mostly of glass, led into the house. The roof was a stunning pale gray and Harry was almost positive it was made of polished sea shells. "I am so very desperately in love," Harry whispered and turned his head in a daze to look at Malfoy. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grasped hold of Harry's sleeve and he found himself falling into Malfoy's arms. He was swung around and down into a deep dip, much like those poses on the romance novels Ginny liked to read, and Malfoy stared deep into Harry's eyes and said, "Why Harry, darling, my heart beats only to hear those words from you. Having your love is the only thing that keeps me breathing." Harry swallowed. His heart was beating like mad and Harry knew he couldn't blame it only on the surprise he felt at finding himself so close to Malfoy. Actuallyit was that and Malfoy's deep, husky voice and bold, darkly intent stare that were combining to make Harry feel like swooning. Swooning for Merlin's sake!

He opened his mouth to respond, though he really didn't quite know how to do that, when he felt himself falling. Malfoy had let go of him and Harry was now on his back in the grass. Malfoy stood over him smirking. Harry glared. "That was rather unnecessary don't you think, dear?" Harry spat. Malfoy let out a rather Gryffindorish snort and turned toward the house. "Let's go, Potter. We need to get you acquainted with everything before the first interviews tomorrow." With that, the blond walked through the gate and toward the cottage. Harry picked himself up off the ground and followed, not even trying to stop the irritated scowl from playing on his face. It didn't last long though. The moment he stepped through the front doors his jaw dropped and he gasped in appreciation. The ground floor was one large room broken up by floating glass shelves that served to distinguish one space from another the large, airy kitchen on the back left from the impressive dining room on the front left and so on. The walls, what walls there were, were covered in what appeared to be whitewashed birch wood paneling. The rest of the "walls" were no more than massive floor-to-ceiling windows that let in a stunning ocean view and heaps of natural light. The back right corner was made up entirely of windows and had nothing more in the area but a white baby grand piano, a bench, and an opera lounge covered in a dove gray silk. The sofas in the sitting area were dark chocolate leather set atop soft gray rugs that littered the birch floors. The large wall to the right, the one that was more wall than window, featured a massive fireplace with huge built-in bookcases on either side of it that were filled with tombs, figurines, photographs, and the like. It was all so tastefully done; so simple, yet so elegant, and still so homey feeling that Harry wanted nothing more than to crash on one of the sofas, kick back, and take a nap. That though led him to another. The bedrooms. He knew they must be upstairs butwhere were the stairs? "Er, Malfoy?" Harry turned to the blond, who had been watching him examine the room with a certain amount of interest. "Potter?" He questioned back. "Where are the stairs?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Harry's inquiry. "I mean, it was obvious from the outside that there is more than one level to the house so" "Ah. No, no stairs. You have to climb of ropes made from vines to get to the top two floors." Malfoy said. Harry had a vision of Malfoy climbing an ivy covered lattice while Harry himself waited for him on one of the balconies clutching a rose in his teeth. He blinked. "Huh?" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Magic, Potter." He said. "Come here." He led Harry toward the center of the room and just as they passed the half wall that separated the dining room from the kitchen a set of beautifully carved stairs appeared before them. Harry turned to Malfoy.

"You see, when you step into this area with the intent to go upstairs, voil!, the stairs appear. It is the same with the stairs on the second floor." He turned to Harry and winked. Harry blushed though he didn't quite know why. "Let's go." They went up to the second floor and Malfoy showed Harry the study and the two guest suites. Each of the second floor rooms was spectacular. He wished he could stay in one of the impressive guest rooms but they knew that the reporters and their friends and families would be looking for any clue that their relationship wasn't real so he was going to have to stay in Malfoy's room. If the presence his magical signature were to be heavier in one of the guest rooms than in the master suite, well, there would be no doubt in anyone's mind that they were faking. "So, the master suite is on the third floor then?" He asked Malfoy. Malfoy gave him a slow, sultry smirk and replied, "the master suite is the third floor, Harry," and Merlin Harry had never heard his named said like that beforelike a seductive caress. "The whole third floor!" He exclaimed once he could form words. Malfoy nodded and pulled him gently toward the center of the second level where, again, the carved stairs appeared. The whole house, so far, had been beyond amazing but nothing, nothing could prepare Harry for what he saw when he climbed the last step and the master suite came into view. There were no walls. Not even windows. And there was no ceiling. The entire floor was open and one could see anything and everything the ocean to the east, the small village in the distance to the west, the sky, everything from anywhere in the room. Harry looked at Malfoy in awe. "How?" He asked simply. "Why, magic, Harry," Draco replied, looking amused," there are charms in place, of course, to keep out rain and overly heavy winds and the like." "What about light? Surely it is too bright, even at night with all of the stars, to sleep." Harry said. "I have a charm for that," Malfoy said, "I have a charm for any problem one might run into having an open room like this. There are charms, as you saw from outside, that create the illusion of walls and a roof and that keep someone outside the cottage from being able to see in." Harry looked at the room itself now, his questions satisfied for the moment. On the right stood an enormous four-poster bed made from a distressed white iron and sporting gauzy white bed-hangings, crisp white sheets and a silvery gray coverlet. On either side of the bed were simple white birch bed tables on which resided a few large sea shells and a couple of photographs of the exquisite gardens. Across from the bed a large, squat fireplace sat with two waist high bureaus, also made of white-washed birch, placed on either side of it. Two light gray club chairs rested in front of the fireplace with a short glass table in between them. A rug in a slightly darker gray lay beneath the chairs. The wrap-around balcony sported two simple loungers situated facing the ocean. It was gorgeous. "Where is the master bathroomDraco?" Harry queried in a soft whisper, looking at Malfoy somewhat shyly. Saying the former Slytherin's given name did not feel as awkward as he thought it would. In fact, it felt Malfoy gestured toward the bureaus and they stepped over to the walkway between the furniture and the balcony. Harry noticed there was a boarder in the floor made of small glass tiles that ran around the room, marking the end of the main living space and the balcony.

Once they passed the bureau the bathroom flickered into view and it was just as wonderful as the rest of the master suite. Pure white tiles covered the floor, two rectangular white sinks set atop white distressed iron pedestals on either side of what Harry now realized was a see-through fireplace. A ridiculously large sunken bathtub took up one corner of the room and large "floating" showerheads indicated the shower area in the other corner. Harry flushed at the thought that he would be bathing and showering in a seemingly open bathroom, despite the charms to keep outsiders from seeing in. "Well, PotHarry. What do you think? Will you be able to live here for as long as this farce has to last?" Malfoy's voice indicated disinterest but the look in his eyes made Harry think that the Falcon's Seeker cared a great deal of his opinion. "As I said outside," Harry said in a breathy voice, "I think I am in love." He was bright red now, he just knew it. "I don't suppose you'll let me stay here forever" He t railed off and then slapped a hand over his mouth when he realized just how that had sounded. Malfoy looked at Harry for a long time before he replied. "Forever is a long time, Harry," and then swept out of the bathroom. Harry took a deep breath and followed. "You can have the bureau to the left. You'll find that there is more than enough space for your things. The bottom drawer is for your shoes; there are special racks built into it for them. If you don't mind, I will take the boxes with your photographs and other knickknacks and try to work them in around the house with my other dcor." At Harry's indication that he didn't, in fact, mind, Draco continued, "Speaking of photographs, it occurs to me that we should have some of user, together, to display aro und the house. I have a camera that can be charmed to take pictures on its own so we can take care of that once you have completed your unpacking." Again, Harry nodded and they both set to work. The next five hours were spent unpacking, placing Harry's personal affects around the house which Draco was able to do quite easily and in the end they looked as though they had always been there and then they changed into outfit after outfit and Apparated to several locations all over England to have the pictures taken. It only now being early September meant that they hadn't had to worry about coming up with winter scenes for some of the photos. Once all of that was done and Draco had arranged the newly taken pictures of the men's "seven month relationship" into a collage on the wall above the fireplace in the first floor sitting area. Draco's sea-side cottage now looked like a home that Harry would loathe to leave once all of this was over. DHDHDHDHDHDH "The interviewers from Quidditch Weekly, Wizard to Wizard, The Quibbler, and Brooms and Bludgers will be here very early in the morning. It would be best if we get to bed now, after all, it is already past eleven," Draco said, not looking up from his book. They were sitting in the club chairs before the fireplace in the master suite. Harry blushed, something he felt like he had been doing all day long. "Yes," he replied, "I suppose you're right." He sighed. "I still don't understand why there have to be so many of them."

"Because, Harry," they had both gotten rather good at remembering to call one another by their first names, "Birch wants this to be a big deal. Personally, I would have liked to have waited to do the interviews and first round of photos until after we, uh, came out to our families. Mother is going to be furious that she wasn't the first to know that I have finally committed myself to another man." Harry coughed and Draco shot him a dirty look. "You know," he continued, "I should warn you that when we have tea with her and father on Sunday she will most likely start pressing almost immediately for a wedding." Harry squeaked in shock and Draco spent a good five minutes laughing before he was able to go on. "I was simply telling you so that you wouldn't react, well, like that when it happens. Also, are you sure you can handle pretending to be in love with me? You know that the interviewers and photographers, hell, everybody will be watching us very closely from here on out and any, any sign that we may be pulling a fast one and this will blow up in our faces." Harry waved a hand at him. "Yes, yes. I know, Draco. I am quite sure I am a better actor than most people would expect. After all, I did pretend to be quite dead for a full twenty minutes without even old Moldymort discovering my ruse." Draco chuckled at Harry's name for Voldemort. "I think I will be fine. What about you, love?" "I will be okay. No need to worry yourtangled little head about it, mon amour." Draco smirked. Harry felt a little shiver snake down his spine. Somehow, hearing Draco speak French hearing Draco call him "my love" in French made him feel a little giddy. "Well then. Perhaps we should" Harry gestured toward the bed. "Yes. Perhaps we should," Draco was smirking again, "I prefer to sleep on the left side of the bed if it's all the same." "Fine by me," Harry said, standing up and placing his Quidditch magazine on the glass side table. He took off his robe, tossed it over the back of the chair, and walked to the bed. Draco did the same and they slip beneath the covers. "Lux lucis nox noctis," Draco murmured and the room dimmed to a comfortable sleeping level. Harry turned away from the blond and closed his eyes. Draco's woodsy, masculine scent was all around him, even more pronounced than it had been simply being in the room. Harry knew he wasn't going to get much sleep that night. DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 3: I Taste As Good As I Look Harry awoke very early. He calculated that he had gotten only about three hours of sleep yet he somehow felt very refreshed. At around one in the morning he had been forced to erect an invisible barrier between himself and Draco after the aforementioned blond had rolled over and thrown an arm around Harry. He had liked the feeling for too much for his own comfort and had gently rolled Draco back over and put up the wall. Now he muttered the counter-incantation before getting out of bed and going into the bathroom. A long, hot shower later and he dressed and downstairs in the kitchen, looking for something to fix for breakfast. He had just placed the frying pan on the stove when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and found Draco, still in his sleep pants and nothing else leaning casually against the island.

"Gooahemgood morning," Harry croaked, once again turning red. He whirled around and proceeded to crack four eggs into the pan. "Good morning, mon amour," Draco seemed to purr. He pushed off of the wall and walked over to Harry. "Cooking me breakfast? Hmm. Perhaps keeping you here wouldn't be so terrible after all. You would make me an excellent little wife." Harry could feel the other man's body heat on his back. "Wife?" He scoffed. "Please, dearest, what makes you think I am cooking anything for you?" "The fact that you have set out two place settings at the bistro table in the breakfast nook." Draco moved to slide his arms around Harry because really, it was so much fun throwing the brunet off-kilter but a knock at the door stopped him. The two men looked at one another in surprise. The interviewers weren't supposed to be there until nine and it was onlya quick tempus revealed that Harry had stayed in the shower much longer than he originally thought and Draco was astonished to find that he had slept in so late. "I had better get that since you're, you know," Harry motioned toward Draco as if pointing out hislack of attire. "Aww, bien-aim, does the idea of others seeing so much of me make you jealous? Draco tried hard not to snicker at the thought of the green-eyed man goingwellgreen-eyed over such a thing. "Whatever, you wanker. Just go put some clothes on," Harry said as he moved toward the French doors. "Yes, dear," Draco bowed and skipped toward the stairs. The man skipped! Harry rolled his eyes and then plastered a smile on his face before pulling the doors open. Several eager faces greeted him on the other side and he began to feel a little nauseated. Nevertheless, he waved them in and explained that he was in the middle of making a late breakfast and that Draco was upstairs dressing. The reporters ate it up. Several cameras flashed. Harry looked down at himself and flushed when he realized he had forgotten to take off the white apron that proclaimed "I Taste As Good As I Look" in big, bold letters. Still blushing, he bid the group into the kitchen and continued to make breakfast. "Tell me Mr. Potter, how long have you and Mr. Malfoy been together?" And so the questions began. Before Harry could reply, a deep voice said, "Nearly seven months now. Am I correct, mon ptale?" Harry fought to keep from laughing at this new endearment. He knew enough French to understand that Draco had just referred to him as his "petal". Glad that he was still turned away from the group, he rolled his eyes and said, "You are indeed, sweetheart." At hearing the ridiculous pet names from the two Quidditch stars, the reporters went barmy. Pens scratched across notepads and the photographers were gestating wildly for Draco to move over to Harry so they could get some shots of them together. The Slytherin obliged and slid one arm around the Gryffindor and reached out with the other in an attempt to snatch a fried tomato from the pan. Harry used the spatula to slap his hand away. "Not yet, you impatient thing. I'm almost done." Several bulbs flashed and the two men turned slightly to give the photographers a better shot.

Once the food was cooked, Draco and Harry took their places at the bistro table and continued to answer questions and pose for pictures while they ate. It did not escape either man's notice that Harry knew exactly how Draco took his morning tea or that Draco knew that Harry liked blueberry jam on his toast he fixed the brunet two slices and placed them on his plate as though he had been doing it forwell, months. They shared a look across the table and made a silent agreement to discuss the implications of this later. After breakfast they gave the reporters a tour of the cottage. Several pictures were taken of the two men throughout the house. The first shot was of them lounging together in the sitting room, Draco sitting with book in hand on one end of the sofa whilst Harry lay with his head in Draco's lap perusing the newspaper. Without even realizing it, Draco reached down and carded his hand slowly through Harry's unruly locks. The second shot took place in the study, with Draco sitting at the massive ebony desk while Harry stood next to him looking over his shoulder at a copy of the English National squad bulletin, the headline reading 'Potter and Malfoy to Share Starter Seeker Position'. There were several shots taken in the master suite. One consisted of Harry and Draco lying on their stomachs on the bed, facing the fireplace and laughing at something Draco had said. Another had the two men on one of the loungers together, Draco's arm around Harry and Harry resting his head on Draco's shoulder. If Harry snuggled a little closer than necessary for the photo, neither of them noticed. A final shot was taken, of all things, of them in the bathroom, standing by one of the pedestal sinks with Draco trying, in vain, to tame Harry's wayward hair while standing face to face and looking into each other's eyes. Draco found himself wanting to taste the pouty lips of the man in front of him, much to his shock. He was hard pressed not to simply give into temptation and find out if the look in Harry's eyes meant he wanted it too. Back downstairs, the men adjourned to the piano with the interviewers and photographers in tow. "Play something for me, love," Harry beseeched his fake boyfriend. "Of course, bien-aim, what would you like to hear?" Draco sat down on the piano bench and revealed the keys. For a moment, Harry was thrown off guard. How was he supposed to know what Draco could play? Then he noticed a stack of sheet music sitting in a rack attached to the bench. He bent down and looked through them. Pulling one out, he handed it to Draco. "Play this one, please. It reminds me of our first date," Harry might have fluttered his lashesjust a tad. "Dream A Little Dream? But of course it reminds you of our first date, Harry. Don't you remember? We danced to this song at that little bistro we visited." Draco set up the music. "And that is why, Draco." Harry responded. "Go on, play." By this point, they had both forgotten about the other people in the room with them so when the cameras started flashing again it was a bit of a surprise to both of them, though Draco, admirably enough, did not falter in his playing of the romantic piece. After he was through the intro, Draco was pleasantly surprised when he started singing the words and Harry joined in without missing a beat. They sounded good together. Damn good. It was almost as if they had been singing together for years. The reporters were writing so quickly now that both men were afraid their quills and notepads might combust. A short while later, the reporters and photographers left. Draco closed the front doors and turned to Harry.

"If those stories don't proclaim us madly in love, I'll eat my sweaty vambraces." DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 4: You'd Be Cute Pregnant The following month wasinsane. Yes, Harry thought, insane just about covered it. He had settled in at Draco's very quickly which was relief because, after the chaos that erupted over those hectic four weeks, he was glad to have a comforting place where he could relax. Meeting with Draco's parents had been daunting. Lucius, bless his little Death Eater heart, had been so flabbergasted that he had done little more than sit in silence, staring off into space and sipping mechanically at his tea. Narcissa, on the other hand, had been over the moon. Just as Draco had warned, she started in almost immediately about marriage. She even went so far as to pull out a large trunk filled to the brim with invitation samples, books filled with pictures of wedding cakes, caterers numbers and menu samples, the names of wedding robe tailors and much, much more. Harry found himself wedged in between Draco and Narcissa on a settee that was really only meant for two people as they looked over books of flower meanings, apparently trying to decide what kind of arrangements would be best for the ceremony and which would be best for the reception. "Truly, Harry, I love your idea of using orange roses for the ceremony, to signify your fiery passion for one another, and white lilies and narcissus at the reception. A truly lovely ode to both of your dear mothers." Narcissa said. "I quite agree, mother." Draco's voice had gone fairly rough between picking out invitations consisting of vibrant green script on a heavy, silver parchment- and choosing a caterer. "What about the cakes, darling boy? You would probably need at least five to have enough for everyone," Narcissa began listing as many of the guests as she could think of, "There is your father and I, your Aunt Andi, the Weasley's, not to mention your friendswill you be inviting all of the c hildren too? I know that Molly and Arthur now have, what is it, five? Six grandchildren?" Harry was feeling a little weak. "Seven actually. Bill and Fleur have the two. Then there is George and Angelina's son, Ron and Hermione's boy, Ginny and Justin's twin girls, and Percy and Penelope's daughter. Oh, and I think Angelina is pregnant again." "My, oh, my! Molly must have her hands full. I can only imagine how much she enjoys it though," Narcissa smiled and paused. After a moment she turned and looked at Harry and Draco with watery eyes, "Is there any chanceyou know there has been great success with the Progeny Potion. Already twelve gay couples have been able to create a child that is wholly theirs with its help. I have even heard that the carrying parents of the male couples felt no discomfort beyond what normally comes with pregnancy at having a temporary uterus develop inside of them. The surgery to remove the baby isn't too bad either, just like a Muggle cesarean section. And after the birth the uterus dissolves and disappears." "ErI," Harry swallowed nervously, "I have always wanted children. Twomaybe three." He squirmed uneasily. This was getting far tootoo real for his comfort. Poor Narcissa was going to be heartbroken when he and Draco staged their breakup. 'So will you, you big idiot," Harry's brain countered. He promptly told it to shut the hell up. "I would like children as well, more than one. I know you and father tried, but it really was a bit lonely growing up an only child," Draco confessed after a moment.

Harry looked at him. Draco offered a weak smile and Harry smiled back just as feebly. "Oh! That would be so wonderful!" Exclaimed the Malfoy matriarch. "Which one of you will carry? I think Harry would be a better carrier than you Draco, I just don't know if your nerves could handle it." Harry couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry at that statement and the noise he made came out sounding much like a wounded niffler. "ThatIs'pose I wouldn't mindI guess," he eventually burbled. "I bet you'd be cute pregnant, mon amour," Draco whispered in his ear, loud enough for Narcissa and Lucius to hear apparently because the former clapped her hands together with a cry of joy and the latter promptly dropped his tea and made a hysterical hiccupping sound. The rest of the visit consisted of trying to coax Lucius out of the inarticulate babbling fit that had seized him. DHDHDHDHDHDH Telling the Weasley's and their friends was much lesspredictable. Harry had thought that the Slytherin's closest mates would hex him first and forgo the asking of questions all together. Instead, Pansy had shrewdly appraised them whilst they sat holding hands on the love seat in her parlor before giving a sweet smile and Harry her blessing. 'Not that I need it you jealous bint,' he thought. Greg and Blaise both fell into fits of laughter as soon as Draco told them he was with Harry and that they were now living together. Seeing the warning glares the blond threw at the giggling men made Harry wonder what on earth he was missing. Theo had just shrugged and said, "Was bound to happen sooner or later." That also left Harry feeling like he had missed something. Harry's friendshonestly, he was pleasantly surprised and quite proud of them. The Weasley's as a whole had simply welcomed Draco into the family. Ron had turned an interesting shade of puce and then said, "So long as you're happy, Harry, I'm happy." That made Harry smile. Hermione had looked at the two of them as though she knew something they didn't. That just unnerved him. Neville had been immediately supportive, as had Ginny. Dean and Seamus, when they visited their flat in London, offered to lend them Seamus' journal for when they decided to have a baby. Seamus had carried their daughter and had kept a journal, documenting the experience in the hopes that it would be able to help other gay couples who chose to take the potion. He planned to publish it once he edited themore personal bits. "I tell you, Harry," he whispered to the brunet after pulling him aside just before he and Draco went to leave, "around the end of the sixth month you get so horny you can hardly stand it. Poor Dean complained that he thought his dick was going to fall off!"

That was more than Harry ever wanted to know about his former roommates' relationship but the implications of Seamus' warning sent a spiral of need down his spine as he imagined himself and Draco "suffering" through that particular side effect of pregnancy. DHDHDHDHDHDH The newspapers and magazines that had come to their house published their stories a few days after Draco and Harry had finished revealing their relationship to their families and friends. "Merlin," Draco breathed as he flipped through the spread of photographs in Wizard to Wizard, "Look at us. We" he cleared his throat, "we really do look like we're in love, don't we?" "Well," Harry took a moment to clear his own throat and turned another page in Brooms and Bludgers, "That was kind of the point, yeah? I mean, we are trying to convince people that we're in love." An owl interrupted whatever Draco was going to say. "Bloody hell," he muttered and Harry walked over to see what the message contained. Gentlemen, I have made arrangements with Brooms and Bludgers for them to do a second photo spread of the two of you. They indicated that their readers would most likely be very interested in moretitillating photos of you. I did tell them that you would not consent to full frontal nudity shots, keeping your professed desire to not pose for such pictures in mind, however the shots will be very intimate so I warn you now so that you may prepare yourselves before the shoot is to take place. Wizard to Wizard has also made such overtures, however they insisted on the full frontal nudity so I took it upon myself to decline for you. The shoot with Brooms and Bludgers will be on Friday next at eleven o'clock. Please do not be late. Brevis Birch Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports P.S. The photographer asks that you please make sure you are groomed properly and carefully. He doesn't want any unattractive hair growths and such fouling up his shots. Harry was blushing again. DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 5: Okay, Now Give Me A Kiss A few days after moving in, Harry had started sleeping very well which meant that he was unable to erect the barrier he had put between them those first few nights. And so it was, on the morning of the Brooms and Bludgers photo shoot, that Draco awoke curled around Harry, one arm slung over the Gryffindor's waist. He smiled and snuggled closer after checking the time. Harry wouldn't awake for at least another twenty minutes and Draco wanted to use that time to his advantage. But how to do it? He buried his nose is the ridiculously soft brunet hair and breathed in deeply. Harry smelled so good! It was a mix of sea, peppermint, and something a little dark, like chocolate. Draco thought he could never get enough of it. Harry reacted to the movement by shifting closer in his sleep. A sinful smile crept over Draco's face. He knew exactly how he wanted to wake Harry up.

Gently, so as not to wake the other man prematurely, the blond slid his right hand lower. It moved from Harry's stomach, over his hip, and down to clutch one thigh. Draco closed his eyes so he would appear to be asleep and perhaps dreaming when the United Seeker awoke. He then began to cant his hips slowly into Harry's bottom. Draco was already half-hard and the motion, the feel of the firm arse nestled against his prick, had him full mast very quickly. He gradually increased his thrusting until he felt Harry stir, though he didn't stop. Instead he allowed soft noises of pleasure and need to escape his lips and the hand on Harry's thigh tightened. Draco knew when Harry was fully awake because the brunet, who had been arching back into him, froze. By this point, Draco was ready to say to hell with it and roll the Gryffindor over on his back and have his wicked way with him. He couldn't quite remember when this whole scheme had stopped being an amusing way to pass the time to something that he found he so desperately wanted with the other man. Perhaps, if he could admit it to himself, it was something he had always wanted. He was almost positive Harry felt the same way. Harry seemed to have made some sort of decision regarding the actions of the man humping him because he eased Draco's hand off of his thigh and rolled from the bed. Draco allowed him the escape, and with much disappointment, but reached out for him as though he really were acting out a dream. He felt a pillow being shoved under his arm and it took everything he had not to burst out laughing. Merlin. He really did love that man. DHDHDHDHDHDH Harry was placing their breakfast on the table when Draco finally made his appearance. It had taken him two, only mildly satisfying, wanks in the shower to slake his lust. They ate in relative silence. Harry was a lovely shade of scarlet the entire time and Draco didn't have the heart to do or say anything that would embarrass him even more. After eating, the men went back up to their suite and dressed. They left via Apparation for the magazine's offices and were led down into the lower levels to one of the photography studios. There, they met with the photography team they would be working with. "Mr. Malfoy, if you would please go with Linus and Mr. Potter, follow Wolhelm and they will get you sorted for the first round of shots," the photographer instructed. The men did as they were told and fifteen minutes later found themselves situated in front of a realistic Quidditch stadium scene. The assistants had dressed them in the bottom half of a Quidditch kit dark grey pants for Draco's Falcons and navy blue for Harry's United. The photographer positioned them standing with Harry turned slightly to the left and Draco a little behind him and facing toward Harry. They were both holding brand new Flame Thrower Ebony Limited Editions, the smooth, black wood feeling natural clutched in their hands. "Okay, for these shots I am going to take a few with you like this. Now," the younge photographer said, "Harry, I want you to straddle your broom, no, no, just hold it loosely between your thighs, yes, that's right, just like that. Now, Draco, hold your broom in your left hand and place your right arm around Harry's waist. Good, good. Okay, gentlemen, I want you to just act natural here. Engage with one another as though you have just finished flying a friendly game of Seek the Snitch and you are ready for more amorous pursuits." Draco laughed. He looked at Harry and dropped his broom. He pulled the brunet closer, reached down with his now free left hand and began to stroke the end of Harry's broom. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he cocked his head to look at Draco. "Oh that's brilliant. Fuck, boys, that is so hot!" The photographer, Clive, exclaimed.

Once the man was satisfied with the Quidditch related shots, some twenty minutes and a million poses later, he sent them off with Linus and Wolhelm to change. Harry blanched. "You want me to wear what?" He asked, incredulously. "A jock strap. What's wrong? You wear them all the time when you play don't you?" Wolhelm asked. "Well yes, but with something else covering it!" Harry cried. "You want me to wear only the jock strap!" Five minutes later, Harry emerged from his dressing area beet red, clad in the white jock strap. Draco, he discovered upon arriving at the new background scene a Quidditch locker room was wearing a black one. The Gryffindor couldn't help it. His mouth watered at the sight and he was faintly aware of his brain's approval of the delicious contrast between the skimpy black material and pale, muscled skin. His cock approved of the way the jock strap lifted the blond's already pert, round bottom and outlined his very impressive package. It was only then that Harry realized that they were wearing the jock straps without the cups and that his own prick must be quite visible to all and sundry. His blush deepened. "Okay, boys," said Clive, "You've managed to make it to the locker rooms, but you just can't hold back any longer. Got it?" They both managed to shake their heads. "Okay, go!" Harry didn't know what to do. Luckily, Draco did, or so it seemed. He gently pushed the United until his back hit the lockers and leaned into him. The Falcon's eyes were smoldering and Harry could do nothing but stare back at him. Without realizing it, he raised one arm up to smooth up Draco's chest while his other caught the blond's hip in a not quite bruising grip. Draco had one hand resting on the lockers, above Harry's shoulder, supporting him as he leaned ever closer, and the fingers attached to his other hand trailed seductively over Harry's stomach before moving down toward his crotch. "Oh, fuck that is so hot. Okay, gods, okay, now give me a kiss." Clive ordered, hoarsely. Harry thought his heart might have stopped for a moment but Draco swooped in, no hesitation whatsoever, and claimed his mouth. Harry's heart kick-started into a wild rhythm. Draco didn't kiss him! Draco devoured him! All Harry could think was 'hot' and 'yes' and 'more' and 'need'. He clutched at the blond, trying desperately to find solid ground again. Draco was in heaven. When he had heard Clive tell them to kiss, he didn't stop to ask questions. He dove in and was now in absolute nirvana! If he had thought Harry smelled like sea and peppermint and dark chocolate, he now knew that that was exactly what the man tasted like as well. Draco was drowning in the Gryffindor's mouth. The slide of their tongues and when had he managed that? was absolute sin. "Oi!" Clive's shout penetrated their quickly melting brains and they pulled apart. Both looked immediately over toward the photographer, too afraid to look at one another at the moment. "Bloody hell. That wasfuck. In all of the shoots I've done I have never seen anything like that! You guys arefuck!" Clive took a moment to find his center again. "Okay. Okay, one more wardrobe change. Make it snappy, yeah?" The wardrobe change consisted of Harry exchanging the jock strap for a pair of skimpy black, bikini-cut underwear and an unbuttoned, white oxford shirt. When he met Draco back at the shoot, he found the blond was sporting nothing but a pair of black slacks unbuttoned and unzipped to reveal another pair of underwear, similar to Harry's but this time in gray. The scene was a bedroom, complete with lit fireplace and a white, bearskin rug.

"On the rug I think. Yes, yes on the rug. Let's seeDraco, I want you to sit with your profile to the fire, that's right, legs out in front of you, good. Now, put your arms behind you and lean back. Oi, Linus, levitate that big mirror over here and place it behind Draco, I want to be able to capture both of their faces as much as possible." Clive said. "Good, good. Now, Harry, this time, you are the seducer. Ready? Go!" Harry didn't know what came over him, but something in him seemed to break loose. He fell to his knees in front of Draco, straddling the blond's legs, and placed his hands on the other man's shoulders. They were looking at each other and the fiery need in Draco's eyes sent Harry reeling for a moment, flashes of lust racing down his spine. He drew his hands down to grasp at the Falcon's biceps and leaned forward. He wasn't close enough, he decided, and shimmied forward so that his hips nearly touched the other man's stomach. Now he was close enough. He leaned forward again. His tongue came out and he traced it up and around Draco's ear, keeping his eyes open and locked on the mirror the entire time. He knew that Clive was able to capture his expression through the glass. Draco moaned lowly in his throat. He was trembling and wanted so desperately to throw Harry down and fuck him raw. He refrained, but only because he knew the Gryffindor would probably not take kindly to being shagged with an audience. Harry switched from licking Draco's ear to nibbling on the side of his neck. Draco couldn't stop himself from reaching one hand up, shifting his weight to his other arm, and pushing the oxford shirt from Harry's shoulders. Harry leaned back and let the material fall from his body after which he threw it to one side. Behind him, he heard someone, possibly Clive, let loose a tortured groan. Draco leaned forward and took one of Harry's nipples between his teeth. Harry's hands flew to soft, blond strands and he threw his own head back with a needy whimper. "Okay. Fuck! Okay, I think we can stop here." Clive seemed to be barely hanging on to his sanity. Slowly, Harry stood and he felt a bathrobe drop around his shoulders. DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 6: He Would Have Messy Blond Hair and Pale Gray-Green Eyes They didn't talk about what had happened at the photo shoot. Harry hadn't taken to erecting the barrier between them at night again, either. All the same, they had seemed to reach a standstill. Both men new the attraction was there, and both men wanted the physical relationship that could come with it butthey also both wanted more. A lot more. Forevermore. The problem was, neither one had the nerve to say so out loud and so they were both left unsure of what the other man truly wanted. It was four days after the shoot and they were currently lounging on the balcony of the master suite, sipping a fine vintage champagne Gossett Grande Rserve Brut and staring out at the waves lapping at the shoreline. The sun had just gone down and what a magnificent sunset it had been and a nice, cool breeze wafted over them. Harry knew that the weather outside was actually much colder than the air that slid over his skin, but Draco's charms did their work and warmed it to a comfortable temperature. "Seems Birch's plan worked out the way he wanted it to. The popularity of Quidditch is at an all time high, we are more loved than ever before, the World Cup has more people clamoring to become sponsors than they know what to do with, and the Society has been all but disbanded." Draco said before taking a sip of wine.

"Yeah," Harry replied, "The guys involved in the gay-bashing incidents have been arrested and Hermione's department has been able to use those episodes to get Wizengamont approval for a full Auror Department inquiry into the group's activities. She is quite satisfied." An easy silence fell over them for a few minutes. Then Harry, deciding to test the waters, turned to Draco. "Your mother sent me some more pamphlets on that Progeny Potion yesterday. She seems insistent that we at least decide on whether or not we are going to apply to use it." "Yeah," Draco was blushing now. Harry found the visual to be both sweetly endearing and incredibly erotic. "She really, really wants grandchildren. Says she is still younge enough right now to spoil them rotten without getting worn out by their energy." "Hmm," Harry thought for a moment, "Whatwhat do you think they would look like? I mean, if we, you know, hypothetically, if we had a kida sonwhat do you think he would look like?" Draco looked taken-aback for a moment. He rolled the question around in his mind and felt a spark of hope develop in his chest. "Well, I think," he stopped for a few seconds, then forged ahead, "I think he would be the perfect mixture of both of us. His hair would be messy, like yours, but blond in colour like mine. And his eyes," he continued, a solid picture of their hypothetical little boy forming in his mind, "his eyes would be a pale gray-green." Harry nodded, liking Draco's description. "He would be fairer in skin tone, like you, I think," the brunet said, adding to the picture, "and have your more aristocratic facial featuresthough, maybe my ears." They both fell quiet for a moment, concentrating on the image they had created in their minds. Then Harry asked, "What would we name him?" "Scorpius," was Draco's immediate reply, "I mean, I've always liked the idea of it. That name I mean." "Scorpius," Harry actually liked that, it suited the boy well, "Scorpius what?" "Why, Malfoy of course," Draco laughed. Harry laughed with him, then shook his head, "No, I mean his middle name. Would he have one? What would it be?" "Oh. Um, you know, I haven't actually thought that far," Draco admitted. Harry thought for a moment. He remembered reading once about a Greek god, the god of the sun or something, and liking his name. "Hyperion," he said a few minutes later, "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy." He turned and looked at Draco. The look in the blond's eyes took his breath away. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, with messy blond hair and pale gray-green eyes." He whispered, pinning Harry with his stare.

"Draco," Harry whispered in return. He leaned toward the other man, slowly, and watched as Draco moved to close the distance between them. "Draco! Harry! Are you here?" The shout of a gruff, male voice jolted them away from one another. Draco cleared his throat, "That sounded like Birch. We should probably see what he wants." Harry nodded and together they descended the two flights of stairs and met the former Tornado Captain in the sitting room. "Sorry to come by unannounced, gentlemen, but I have just received your copy of the magazine and wanted to give it to you. Splendid work by the way. I told you my plan would be a success!" He talked fast and, before either of the other two men could utter a reply, he was gone in a whirl of green flames. Harry looked down at the thick envelope in his hands, then at Draco. "Well," he said, "shall we look?" Draco nodded and the two returned to their loungers on the third floor. They sat there, unmoving, both looking at the envelope in Harry's lap before Draco reached out and opened it. "Wow." They said simultaneously. And wow was right. The pictures were incredible. And hot! Really hot. Harry was harder than he had ever been in his life and a quick glance at Draco's lap revealed that he suffering similarly. Harry looked up and gasped at the dark, lust-filled gray eyes staring back at him. "I want it, Harry," the blond practically growled, "I want it all. The sex, the relationship, the marriage, Scorpius. I want every bit of it and more. For ever." "Yes," Harry whimpered, "Gods, yes, Draco, yes!" The magazine was tossed carelessly to one side and Harry lunged at Draco. DHDHDHDHDHDH Chapter 7: Vous tes Mon Amour, Ma Vie, Mon Tout They stumbled to the bed, mouths locked in desperation. Harry could taste the champagne on Draco's tongue and he wanted more, more, so much more! Somewhere along the way, they lost every article of clothing and when they landed amongst the sheets the feel of hot skin on skin left them both groaning in appreciation. Draco unlocked their mouths and skimmed his way down Harry's jaw to his throat where he began to suckle with abandon. Harry fisted Draco's fine hair, turning his head to the side to give him more access. He slid his legs out, allowing Draco to settle in between his thighs, and pulled one leg up to circle Draco's hips. The move brought them even closer together and Harry canted his hips up, grinding their erections together. Draco moaned. "Harry, fuck, Harry. I've wanted this for so long. I want to taste you."

Harry whimpered low in his throat. "Yes, Draco, please, Anything you want, just please, don't stop." Draco moved down Harry's body, nipping and licking and sucking along the way, before stopping at the nearly purple erection of his dark-haired lover. He greedily sucked the leaking tip into his mouth. Harry arched upward then seemed to change his mind about what was going on. "Draco," he panted, "Draco, me too. I want to taste you too." He nudged the blond until they were laying head to foot and cradled Draco's cock in his hand. They leaned in at the same time, each pulling the other man's erection into their mouths. It was a little difficult to remember to keep sucking and licking at the pricks in front of them while pleasure coursed through them as they, themselves, were being sucked. Harry moved down and drew both of Draco's balls into his mouth. The action sent Draco keening and he retaliated by laving two fingers in his mouth before circling and then piercing Harry's pink hole. Harry moaned and arched into the touch. Soon, they were both near the edge. When Draco found Harry's prostate, Harry groaned around Draco's cock and came, flooding Draco's mouth with salty fluid. The taste of the brunet's cum sent Draco off the ledge and he came with a cry, some of his cum escaping past Harry's lips to dribble down his chin. Both men rolled over onto their backs, attempting in vain to catch their breaths. Eventually, Draco turned and crawled up to take ownership of Harry's mouth with his own once again. "Gods, Harry," his voice came out throaty, raw, "that was, fuck baby that was unbelievable." "Yeah, yeah it was," Harry said. He reached out and pulled Draco to him. They lay there in silence for a while, Draco resting his head on Harry's collarbone and Harry running a hand lightly over Draco's back. "Vous tes mon amour, ma vie, mon tout," Draco whispered into the dark. "What does that mean, love?" Harry questioned. "You are my love, my life, my all," Draco replied. Harry shuddered with pleasure, warmth growing to near bursting in his chest. "Vous tes mon amour, ma vie, mon tout too, Draco," Harry stumbled over the unfamiliar language. Draco understood very well though. Soon, they were asleep. DHDHDHDHDHDH Harry awoke alone. He nearly panicked until he smelled the tempting aroma of fried tomatoes and bacon in the air. He smiled to himself and headed toward the bathroom to shower before going downstairs to meet Draco. The scene that greeted him made his heart clinch in happiness. Draco stood at the counter, pouring two cuppas and he was wearing the white apron Harry had confiscated as his own when he first moved in. He looked soso domestic and yet so bloody hot that Harry didn't know if he wanted to kiss Draco or slam him onto the table and ride him silly. Draco turned.

"Well good morning sleepy head," He smiled lecherously, "Hungry?" That did it. That sinful grin made up Harry's mind and he marched over and grabbed Draco by the apron, spun them both around, and slammed Draco against the edge of the island. He forced his tongue into the Falcon's mouth Draco was a little too stunned to react yet and skimmed his hands over the blond's body, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. When he reached Draco's arse, the other man finally reacted. With a groan, the Slytherin turned them so that Harry was now the one against the island and took control of the bruising kiss. It wasn't long before they were naked. Draco had Harry turned, facing the island, with his legs spread and Draco was feasting on the sweet little hole between his arse cheeks. "Draco, gods, more, Draco, please!" Harry was babbling and slipping in and out of Parseltongue. Draco shivered. He could remember the first time he had heard the Gryffindor speak in the language of his house's founder. He could remember not understanding the intense heat that had spread through him at the time. He knew now that the day of the duel between them in their second year had catapulted him into puberty. The blond rose from his knees, slipping two slick fingers into Harry's hole, and sucked on the back of the man's neck. "Harry," he groaned, "Harry, I want to fuck you. I want to be inside of you so badly. But I want to see your face too." "Yes," Harry managed to force out. He swallowed. "Me too, I want to feel you inside of me. I want to see you. Watch your face as you come." "Come 'ere," Draco removed his fingers and pulled Harry into the sitting room. He let himself fall back onto one of the sofas and pulled the brunet down into his lap. They shared a kiss and Harry squirmed in Draco's lap. "Now, Draco. Please, now," He whimpered. Together the lined Draco's cock up with Harry's hole. The United eased himself down over the rigid shaft. The blond grasped the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss as he finally, finally, bottomed out. Draco's sitting position left Harry's cock trapped in between their bodies. As he moved, slowly at first, and then faster and harder, his prick rubbed against both of their abs, smearing pre-cum. They moved faster, losing any rhythm they had started with, as the heat between them grew to almost unbearable levels. Harry was writhing in Draco's arms, back to babbling in Parseltongue. Draco murmured in Harry's ear, French words and broken phrases of encouragement and love. He reached down and grasped Harry's prick, pulling in long, fast strokes. Harry screamed and came. Cum erupted over them. Harry's insides squeezed Draco like a vice and he found himself following Harry over the edge. When Harry came to, he discovered that Draco had somehow managed to maneuver them both until they were lying in one another's arms on the couch. "So," Draco's deep voice rumbled in Harry's ear, "was it the fact that I was cooking breakfast, the apron, or what I said?"

Harry laughed, "It was your smile." He admitted. "Oh, well hell. If that's how you react when I smile I had better keep a constant scowl on my face when we are in public. Unless you're into exhibitionism." "No, no I'm really not," Harry laughed again, "The photo shoot being the exception." "Good," Draco responded, "I don't want anyone else, ever, to see you looking like you do when you come. That is for me and me alone. Forever." "Forever?" Harry asked. "Forever is a long time, Draco," he said, quoting the Slytherin's words back at him. "Forever," Draco confirmed. DHDHDHDHDHDH The wedding was truly one for the ages. They ended up needing seven cakes, much to Narcissa's delight. The flowers were stunning. The music was perfect. The guests were in high spirits. And the grooms? The grooms were blissfully, ridiculously happy. Especially once the bonding ceremony was completed and the final incantation caused a brilliant white light to encase them. Soul mates. They were soul mates. And they were now bonded, for eternity. DHDHDHDHDHDH Six Months Later Narcissa Malfoy tossed the newspaper onto Brevis Birch's desk, the handsome faces of her son and sonin-law smiling up at her from beneath the headline that read: Malfoys Expecting Baby Boy on the Way "I told you my plan would work," she said, "and I thank you for your help in implementing it." "Not at all, Mrs. Malfoy," Birch looked up from the Gringot's transferal note in his hands, denoting the exchange of one hundred thousand galleons from the Malfoy vault to his own, "though it was really lucky that those Society kooks went and got themselves in trouble and your son and Potter had that fight. Without either of those two things happening, I doubt we would have been able to pull it off." "True, true." She acknowledged. "Enjoy your reward, Birch, I know I will certainly be enjoying mine." The Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports nodded at the Malfoy matriarch as she left. "Indeed I shall, my dear, indeed I shall," he murmured. The End?

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