Harry Potter never imagined he'd be standing on the gravel drive to Malfoy Manor, especially during his honeymoon. Everything had been perfect when they'd flooed to Provence in a very circuitous route. And Draco was wonderful. Romantic. Sexy. And most of all, Draco.

He recalled their stay at their hotel only two days ago. He had waited while Draco chatted with the concierge in what Harry assumed was perfect French. He tapped his fingers against his thigh. He really wanted to get to their room. After all, it had been almost three hours since they last made love and Harry was impatient to continue their honeymoon.

He watched Draco as he talked. Pointed features, white-blond hair, trim physique, sexy lips. My husband. A smile crept over his face. An amazing notion, really, after all they'd been through. It had been a journey just getting to a wedding at all. Death Eaters after them, homophobic Ministry officials and parents, death threats, poison, misunderstandings. But a wedding there had been. Only yesterday, mused Harry thoughtfully. It had been a beautiful affair and all his friends were there, far more than he ever imagined. And Draco was so handsome in his dress robes as he always was. More handsome especially out of them. Mmmm. He had to stop that train of thought. He was in the middle of a hôtel foyer, for Merlin's sake. And Draco didn't look as if he was going to be done speaking anytime soon. Draco seemed to enjoy nattering with the man, who also seemed to enjoy the conversation with his cultured guest. God knows what they were talking about. The only way Harry would know what was going on at all was if he ran across a snake. Parseltongue was the only other language Harry knew, and he suddenly felt like an unsophisticated dullard.

He wanted to nudge Draco, but didn't want to appear rude to the concierge, and he also didn't want to appear too eager, even though Draco would, no doubt, be amused by it. He stared at the back of Draco's head. He'd cut his hair so it wasn't long anymore like his father's. Harry appreciated the gesture and also enjoyed the added benefit of easily kissing the back of Draco's neck unimpeded by hair tangling in his mouth. It also afforded Harry a wonderful view of that sweet spot at the nape of Draco's neck, the very spot Harry liked to nibble and lick that elicited a most unusual sound from the Slytherin's throat. Harry liked hearing it. It usually meant he was in for some incredibly sensual retaliation.

Harry squirmed thinking about it. The front of his trousers tightened with his need. Draco better be done quickly or Harry might soon embarrass them both.

And just as Harry was trying to conjure arousal-killing images like feeding dead ferrets to hippogriffs or Umbridge in a bathing suit, Draco turned around and gave Harry a dazzling smile. "All set," he said.

Harry was about to lift the baggage when Draco frowned at him. "Harry, this is a hôtel, with many little people working here. The call them bell hops. They will carry the baggage."

"It's not heavy."

He leaned close to Harry. "You're sweet, but don't embarrass yourself. Let the bell hops get it. Haven't you ever been on holiday?"

"No."

Draco did a double take, eyes looking Harry up and down. "Oh. Never mind then."

Harry looked at the baggage and shrugged. No sooner had he put them down then two young men in uniforms sprinted forward and swept them up, trotting up the stairs ahead of Draco. Draco watched them depart, his eyes lingering a little too long for Harry's taste. "Like house elves," whispered Draco, "but much cuter."

"Hey. You're not supposed to be ogling other men on your honeymoon. That's bad form."

Draco stopped on the step and leaned into Harry. Clearly he wanted to kiss him but thought better of it in so public a place. "I may be married but I'm not dead." He must have noted Harry's pout because he added, "But you are right. I'm sorry. My eyes are only on you for the rest of the trip." His hand caressed Harry's jaw.

"See that they are," said Harry with a nod of finality. "But those blokes do have nice bums."

Draco scowled over his shoulder as he wended his way up the narrow stair.

The small hôtel was little bigger than a bed and breakfast but it had a quaint air about it and Harry was certain it was a place Draco had come with his parents before. The thought made Harry a little uncomfortable but then again, he was sleeping with Draco and not the late Lucius or Narcissa Malfoy.

The uniformed men opened the door to their small suite and placed the luggage near the bedroom. They waited until Draco inspected the suite and then gave them each Muggle money as a tip. Once they left, Harry turned toward the door, locked it, and turned back when he was suddenly pinned against the door. Draco's mouth covered his and his tongue plunged in, licking its way over his teeth and swathing his moist mouth. Harry raised his hands to Draco's soft hair and clutched his head, making sure he gave as good a kiss back as he was receiving.

Draco pulled away with a loud smacking sound and he giggled close to Harry's lips. "Oh, Potter. You are so hot."

"'Harry'," he gasped. "You're supposed to be calling me 'Harry'."

"Oh who cares? I want you just the same. How long has it been? Days? Weeks?" He grabbed Harry around the waist and yanked him around, pulling him bodily toward the bed.

"Hours. But too many, admittedly."

"Too many," he whispered to Harry's lips and took them again. They tripped over the luggage and landed with an "oompf!" on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms. They pulled each other's shirts up out of their trousers and ran their hands up under them to stroke bare skin.

Draco's lips hungrily mauled Harry's mouth. "Who's going to shag whom?" he gasped.

"I don't care," said Harry hoarsely.

"Who ever ends up on the bottom stays, then," said Draco.

"Right."

"Then we switch."

"Right."

"Then we switch again."

"No argument."

Harry's tongue mercilessly lapped at Draco's mouth, curling around his tongue and thrusting nearly down his throat. Draco groaned deeply, and the vibration on Harry's tongue nearly drove him insane. He tore away from Draco's lips and mouthed his neck. "You are so sexy," he moaned into his flesh.

"And you are Sex itself," Draco answered, grabbing at anything he could reach, which turned out to be Harry's backside. He grabbed both cheeks and pulled Harry against him. That's when Harry decided that trousers were just in the way.

"Get these off!" he growled, pulling back and tearing at Draco's belt and trouser buttons.

Draco lay back on his elbows, watching Harry rip the zipper. Harry knew that Draco must be desperate in order to allow Harry to rip his expensive clothes. Course Harry was the one paying for them now, so what did Draco care?

Harry kneeled up and yanked the trousers off and tossed them over his shoulder. He paused. Draco wasn't wearing any underpants. He looked up at the blonde's face and Draco gave a wicked smile and waggled his brows. "Surprise!"

"A very pleasant one." Harry worked at his own trousers but his hands were trembling. He wanted Draco so badly. And it looked like he was top. He smiled. "I guess I'm first."

"Depends on the way you look at it," said Draco, his voice rather shaky. He slowly lay back and opened his legs.

The Slytherin was already erect, his organ thrust upward from the thatch of white-blond curls. Harry stared at it and licked his lips. "I think I'll have a taste of this first," he said and leaned over.

Draco rolled his eyes up and sighed a breath from his very depths. Harry sucked in Draco's flesh and drew his mouth up and down unmercifully slow. He released him only after a few strokes and sat back.

"Oh no you don't!" cried Draco. "Harry! You're not going to leave me like this!"

"I've got a few more things to do, love. Be patient. Accio lube!" The small jar smacked into his upraised hand from wherever it had been socked away. Harry opened the lid and dipped his fingers in. It was Draco's own special recipe he brewed in his potions dungeons. Vaguely, Harry wondered if he had his detention students make it for him, never telling them exactly what it was for.

"Harry…" Draco whined.

"You're such a child, Malfoy. Good things come to those who wait. Haven't you told me that countless times?"

"I told you that, yes. Not me. You know I have no patience."

Harry silenced him by pushing Draco's legs upward and swathing the puckered flesh of his entrance with the lube. Harry slipped a finger in just in case Draco had anything to add. "What's that? Something to say, Draco?"

"Aaahhhmmfff," moaned Draco.

Harry swabbed his own straining erection and pressed the head right up to Draco's anus. He looked down at Draco, already looking debauched with love bites, red, swollen lips, his legs spread and Harry pressed against him, pelvis to pelvis. His grey eyes were heavily lidded looking back up at Harry. "My precious husband," Harry purred. "I love you."

"Oh Harry. Oh God. I love you. You're so…so…powerful."

"What do you mean? Like this?" And he pushed forward and breached Draco's entrance, stretching the tight muscle. Draco cried out in surprise and a little discomfort. Harry waited only a moment and pushed further. "Feeling the power yet, Draco?"

"Oh yes! You are so much for me, Harry. So…so…big!"

"The way you like it," and he pushed further until he was firmly seated. "Tell me what you want, Draco. Do you want me to be soft and gentle, or do you want me hard and rough?"

"I want it rough, you bastard! You know that! I always want it rough at first."

Harry knew it. But he wanted to hear him say it. He pulled out of Draco almost all the way, paused, and then slammed back in all the way to the hilt. Draco gave a giddy half-laugh, half-moan of pleasure. "Like that?" asked Harry above him.

"Just like that. Oh Potter, you can punish me, can't you? You can give me more, can't you? I'm such a naughty Draco, leering at those men."

"I'd forgotten that. Then this-" Harry slammed into him again. Draco's hips reared up, accepting it-"is for naughtiness!"

"I was so naughty, Harry. More!"

"You're going to get more, you bad Slytherin. I'm taking points." And he slammed in again.

"Oh! Yes! I felt it that time. Don't you think I've earned a detention?"

Slam. "At the very least." Slam.

"Oh Harry!"

"Grab yourself, Draco. Do exactly what I tell you."

Draco wrapped his fingers around his pulsing erection.

"Give it a long stroke all the way up and run your palm over the head."

Draco followed instructions to the letter and moaned his reply.

"Now drag your hand down again and play with your bollocks."

Harry watched as Draco complied, his face flushing. Harry was getting close. He was certain by the look of the Slytherin's face that he was too.

"Grasp it tightly and stroke upward again. Now a fast one down and up."

Harry directed Draco's wanking to his specifications and he thrust into Draco at almost the same rhythm. Finally it was working and Harry stopped talking, concentrating on the tension building within him. The hot sensations roared to the surface, tensing his own balls and suddenly he erupted into Draco with strong thrusts, gasping hoarsely his lover's name. Draco's cum shot upward, coating Harry's chest and Draco's thighs. Harry watched the cum spurts dispassionately. He was a bit busy coming down from his own high. But he did notice Draco's face, eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth gaping in ecstasy. He pulled free of Draco and kissed him fiercely before he collapsed next to him, rested his head on his chest, and felt Draco's hot spunk under his cheek. He turned his face and licked it off the pale skin.

"Oh Harry." That was all Draco said for a long time, until he offered a breathy, "I love you so much. You are so perfect."

"Only with you, my love. Only with you."

* * *

"Don't take your glasses off. Keep them on."

"Why?"

"They're sexy on you. They make you look more vulnerable."

"How can I look vulnerable when I'm in this position?"

"Well…I don't know. You just do. And I can see your beautiful eyes just fine. I love your eyes."

"I know. They remind you of my mother."

"How the hell would they do that? I never met your mother."

"Oh! That's right! Then you like them because they're…mine. That's…that's…"

"Shut up and kiss me."

* * *

"Harry, I'm knackered. I don't think…"

"Well don't think."

"Give it a rest, Harry."

"I'm not ready to rest. Hmm. Looks like you aren't either."

"So okay. You're very convincing."

* * *

"Can I just hold you and maybe kiss a little?"

"I'd like that, Harry love."

"Mmmmmm. I love kissing you, Draco. Your lips…they're so soft and warm."

"You're such an incurable romantic, Mr. Potter."

"So are you. I love this. Just touching. We don't have to do anything else."

"We've already done everything else."

"But I like this."

"So do I."

"Draco…I love you. Sometimes I think I'll explode if I don't tell you."

"I like hearing it. It's nice to be loved, especially by you. And I like to kiss you just there."

"Mmmmm. That's sweet. Oh I know you don't like being called 'sweet'-"

"Mmmmmm. You kiss so divinely, Harry. You can call me anything you like if you're going to kiss me like that."

And so it went long into late afternoon and early evening, with a few naps in between. After a time, Harry waved his wand and incanted Scourgify! but forgot that he was three times as powerful now and ended up cleaning the entire room with a loud rumble. Objects fell from shelves. Something shattered to the floor in the bathroom and car alarms went off in the car park.

Draco pushed himself up and looked around. "Well. The maid will love you."

"I keep forgetting. I don't know my own strength. We've got to do as little magic as possible until we get back to Hogwarts and get Dumbledore's help."

Draco rolled over and propped his chin on his fist, gazing at Harry under drawn lids. "That won't be for a fortnight. We have too much else to do to worry over magic. I doubt we'll get much of a chance to do any. I plan on letting these Muggles do all the work. What are you paying them all that money for, after all?"

"Your money now too, remember?" He tucked his wand back into his cloak pocket draped on a chair near the bed. He turned to Draco, gazed at him, and then pulled him forward so he lay along Harry's body. He wrapped his arms around him and tucked Draco's head under his chin. "There you are. That's where I like you to be."

"I thought you liked me to be beneath you…or above you…or behind you. Or with my face-"

Harry squeezed harder in order to shut him up. "I like you here just fine, too." He kissed the top of his husband's head and rested his cheek there.

Draco raised his hand to look at the gold ring on his finger. The Gryffindor lion gleamed in the afternoon light, embraced by an equally gleaming Slytherin snake. "I love my ring. It says 'us' so well."

"Thought you would." Harry looked at his duplicate conjured by Draco. "I really feel married now. I didn't think I would feel different. Did you?"

"No. But the ceremony and all those people there made it…well, real, I guess. And of course, to feel your magic nestled behind my heart…that's so amazing."

"At first, I was afraid of it. I didn't know what it would really do, you see. Then I thought if it didn't happen then the Ministry would finally leave us alone. In a way, I was hoping it wouldn't work. But after it actually did work, I was so glad. I didn't have any idea it would feel like that. Like you're always with me."

"So what happens if one of us dies?"

The words spoken so nonchalantly made Harry's heart plummet. "Blimey, Draco! Why would you bring that up?" He squeezed him tighter.

"Well, it's got to happen someday. Does that mean the other's magic disappears?"

Harry squirmed. He didn't like the subject. There had been too many years where his own mortality was the stuff of front page newspaper stories. "I don't know. I suppose we'll have to ask Dumbledore."

They both fell silent. Harry felt Draco's fingers dragging up his chest. "I'm sorry, Harry. Didn't mean to break the mood. It's the Slytherin in me."

Harry kissed Draco's head again. "That's all right. It's a good question. It's just that I only got married yesterday. I don't fancy the idea of being a widower so soon."

"Who said I was going to die first? I don't plan on it."

"Oh, so you want to be the widower?"

"I don't want-" He blew out a breath. "You're right. Can we change the subject?"

Harry chuckled. "And how many years did you wish for that very thing, hmm? My demise."

"Not anymore! I should think that would be obvious." He snuggled into Harry's side and ran his hand over his lover's hip, resting it there.

Harry smiled. "I keep thinking about the wedding. It was really beautiful. You and Hermione did a great job. The colours were perfect," he remembered to add. Hermione told him to.

Draco looked delighted. "Now see! I told them it would matter to you. Thank you for noticing."

He hadn't, but he was glad Hermione was his friend. "No problem," he snickered. "And so many people! What a guest list!"

"And a centaur, don't forget. I know I won't. I thought Hermione was kidding."

"To tell you the truth I didn't think he'd come."

Draco shifted upward to look Harry in the eye. "You don't have any idea, do you?"

"What?"

"I can't believe this. All that modesty is for real. You really have absolutely no idea how many people love and respect you, do you? And it's not just because you killed Voldemort or that you're an accomplished wizard. It's because you're kind, and humble, and honest, and loving. Not traits I ever particularly fancied, but there you are."

Harry was dumbstruck. Sure, he had an inkling but no one had ever laid it out for him like that before. He felt his face flush.

"And you blush at the drop of a hat. Do you know how completely adorable that is?"

"Only you like that."

"I don't know about that, Mr. Potter. A lot of blokes were giving you the eye on the way to the hôtel."

He eyed Draco sincerely. "Not to change the subject or anything, but just why am I the only Mr. Potter here? Why aren't you 'Draco Potter'?"

"The same reason you aren't 'Harry Malfoy'."

"And that is?"

"I forgot to add naïve to the list." He leaned in and focused his grey eyes at him. "Because no one wants me associated with you any more than they have to. And no one in the whole of the Wizarding world would ever call you 'Harry Malfoy'."

"How about 'Harry Potter-Malfoy'?"

"Look, I'm very touched and my father would have been-well, let's forget what my father would have been. It's a lovely, very Gryffindor gesture, but no. Not going to happen."

"But you could be 'Draco Malfoy-Potter'."

"I'm not taking your name. Much as I'd like to. We could watch the seconds actually tick by before I was killed. Besides, two Professor Potters at Hogwarts would be too confusing."

"There is that."

"So just let it go. We're married. Isn't that enough?"

"I guess so."

"Oh God!" Draco threw himself back against the headboard. "Let's not do this! No amount of pouting is going to change this one, all right? And if you don't draw in that lower lip I'm going to bite it. I might anyway, just because it's so enticing."

Harry ducked his head and smiled in spite of himself. "Okay, okay." He glanced at the window. "Hey, it's getting dark. What did you want to do tonight?"

"Besides shag?"

He grabbed Draco around the waist and hurled him down across the duvet. "Yes! Besides shag. I would think you were as sore as I am."

"A little."

But Draco was too tempting beneath him like that. He had to bend down and kiss him. The Slytherin tasted so good.

"I know!" said Draco suddenly. "Let's go dancing!"

"What? Downstairs? I don't think-"

"No, you git. A club. A gay club. I've never been, you know."

"How are we going to find one?"

"Don't you know anything, Potter? You get a Muggle phone book."

"A phone book? How would that help?"

"You're the one who lived like a Muggle all his life. You don't know how to use a phone book to find things?"

"I was never allowed to do anything."

"Oh that's so sad. But we haven't time to dwell. I must get dressed. And you know how long that takes."

"Too right," he mumbled, getting out of Draco's way as he climbed off the bed toward the wardrobe. I'll have time for two showers by the time he's done picking his tie.

And Harry was right. Once they were both cleaned and dressed it was dark outside. Draco grabbed the phone book and tore through the pages. "Oh this must be it. 'The Puce Dragon'. No one but a ponce would call anything 'puce'."

When they arrived to the club by taxi, Harry noticed how excited Malfoy was. "Slow down, there," he said to him, laughing, as Draco trotted toward the velvet rope before the door. "What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? Harry, maybe you're used to being gay but I'm not. You're the only other gay man I've ever really met."

"You met two of my old boyfriends."

"And that went wonderfully, didn't it? Until I turned one of them into a pile of shit."

"Well you were saving my life."

"So maybe they weren't the best example."

"But why so excited?"

Draco looked at Harry as if he had turned green. "This is a big thing! It was hard enough coming out at first. I was brave about it because of you. But I want to be with others. You know. Rub elbows in the gay world."

"Just elbows?" muttered Harry.

"Oh don't be an arse. You think I'd come to a gay club on my honeymoon to pick up men?"

"You just want to meet the girls, then?"

Draco scowled. Hermione had taken to calling Draco her new "girlfriend" and it didn't sit well with the Slytherin. "If you're going to make fun-"

Harry laughed. "I'm not making fun. It's just part of the vocabulary." He slipped his arm into Draco's. "And I thought we came to dance, anyway."

Draco's expression softened. "Yes, you're right. Remember, I only have eyes for you." And he gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and led the way forward.

Draco exchanged words with the man at the door and he let them through. The music was loud and pulsed in Harry's chest. Though it was Draco's first time in such a club it certainly wasn't Harry's. After Voldemort was no more Harry had the luxury of thinking about himself for a change and at a future he had never quite believed he would have. It was time to start coming to grips with his own sexuality and since Draco Malfoy-his longtime unapproachable heartthrob-had disappeared into the Muggle world and out of Harry's sight, Harry had to get on with things. Which meant finding someone to be with…and more immediately, someone with whom he could trust to lose his virginity. He deliberately shied away from anyone from the Wizarding world, knowing being the Famous Harry Potter was going to make true intimacy an impossible expectation. He met his first Muggle boyfriend in a London park, but he'd met the next two Muggle men in clubs like this one.

Harry wasn't the type to go in for anonymous sex and one-offs. He wanted relationships, thinking it only proper. And it took him a while to learn to trust. But none of these relationships ever lasted more than a few months. It became too complicated when they wanted to delve more into his life, and he wasn't prepared to enlighten them about the Wizarding world. He remembered when his first boyfriend asked about that "funny old broom you keep propped in the corner." Harry knew that was the beginning of the end. Ever after, he kept his Firebolt hidden in a closet. And then he considered how poignant that notion was. He was 'out' but his broom was 'in'. After three stalled Muggle relationships, he turned to wizards-two-but those relationships never lasted either. He couldn't figure out why until Draco met the two wizards inadvertently at the Ministry and pointed out with some irony that they both resembled Draco himself. Harry had to admit then that all his boyfriends, including the Muggles, bore more than a passing resemblance to Draco. And, of course, that was the answer to his doomed relationships: He was still pining for Malfoy, a man he never believed he had a chance of getting at all.

"Bloody amazing, really," he muttered to himself, clutching Draco's hand as his spouse dragged him through the crowd to the dance floor.

Draco leaned in and took Harry in his arms. "Shall we dazzle them with our skills?"

"You can dazzle them with yours. I'm just along for the ride."

"Don't sell yourself short. You follow my lead brilliantly." And perhaps to prove it, Draco twirled Harry and brought him back up against him. Then he took him in earnest and they danced to the throbbing rhythms.

They danced for an hour until Harry, gasping, had to drag Draco away from the dance floor. "Gotta rest," he managed to say, and stumbled with him to the bar.

"Yeah. A breather is what we need." He turned to the bar. "And fortification. What's your poison, Potter?"

Harry slid onto the stool, resting his sore feet. "Er…I don't know. Don't really drink anything but wine or beer."

"Well let's get you something else." Draco ordered martinis for both of them.

"Since when do you drink these?" asked Harry, watching with interest as Draco licked the sweat off his upper lip.

"Used to drink it occasionally with the parents at the manor." He lowered his eyes from Harry. "I know you don't like to hear about them-"

"I never said that. You can talk about them if you want. They were your parents, after all." Even though they wanted me dead, he never said aloud.

"Yeah, well." The drinks arrived and Draco clasped the glass's stem between his fingers. He clinked the glass against Harry's. "To us."

"I'll drink to that." Harry lifted the glass, took a drink, and immediately coughed it across the bar.

Draco slapped his back. "Forgot to tell you. Pure alcohol."

"Thanks," croaked Harry. He tried it again, taking a smaller sip this time. It tasted vaguely of alcoholic perfume.

Draco sipped his elegantly and a man sidled up to him and said something seductively. Draco smiled a Slytherin smile and said something back in French to the man. The man eyed Harry with a snort of disdain and moved away.

"Was he hitting on you?" asked Harry.

"I told him I was with someone."

"But he was hitting on you?"

"Well Harry, this is a gay club, right? Gay men are likely to hit on me."

"I think you're enjoying this too much."

Draco sighed and drank his drink. "Do you want to leave?"

Harry's gaze swept the room. It was a great place, really, and the foreign music and the Muggles all around them made it interesting, as it always did. And Draco truly did need to identify with the crowd a bit. Harry also didn't like this feeling of jealousy running through him, knowing how perfectly ridiculous it was. They were in love. Nothing was going to change that. They had just gone through a tremendously arduous process to get married. Their magic was joined. There was no way Draco was going to cheat on him now.

He shook his head. "No. Of course not. I'm actually having a good time. Tell me about the hôtel. Did you used to go there with your parents?"

Draco raised his brows. "I did, actually. How did you know?"

"Just guessed. Reckoned you did by the way you were talking to that hôtel chap when we checked in."

Draco sighed and sipped. He leaned his elbows on the bar. "Yes. We used to come here every other year. It was the only Muggle place my parents tolerated. Don't know why. But I loved it. Always felt welcomed here."

Harry drank some more. After the initial taste, it began to grow on him. "Tell me about your parents."

Draco raked Harry coldly with his grey eyes. "Why?" There was a lot of Slytherin in that tone.

"I realize I only knew them in one way. You know them in a completely different way. The way I might have known them if all that-you know-other stuff hadn't happened. Voldemort," he mouthed.

He frowned. "I know what you mean, you idiot." He tipped the glass back, pulled out the olive, and popped it in his mouth. He slid the glass across the bar and gestured for the bartender to fill it up again. "Well…my mother was great. She cared about everything I did, everything I felt. She would have been okay with my being gay. Probably knew anyway. Wouldn't put it past her." He ran his finger through the water ring on the bar and stared at it. "We loved to shop together. She had amazing taste. She always planned every detail of the parties at Malfoy Manor and they were marvelous affairs. I think she was everything you would want in a mother. She was to me. She was loving, she was interesting, she was beautiful, and she was fun. I miss her." The drink arrived and Draco immediately took a long draught. "My father was wonderful," he continued, twirling the half-empty glass. "He was like a prince. He knew everything, knew everyone. He used to spend hours with me teaching me spells and hexes ever before I got to Hogwarts."

"He let you use magic at home? An underage wizard?"

He chuckled. "He didn't much care to follow the rules. Especially Ministry rules."

"That's why you were so good at it when we first dueled."

"You weren't bad yourself. And you probably didn't practice at home at all."

"Privet Drive was never my home. Not really."

"Muggles." He shivered and then looked around, remembering. "Well. I guess they're all right."

"Most are."

"Well anyway. My father was a very gifted wizard and we spent a lot of time together. He was really proud of me. Told me so. Always told me I'd be great some day." He giggled over the rim of his glass. "Taught me some really nasty things to do to-"

Draco stopped talking abruptly and Harry glanced at him. Draco's pale skin blushed a deep red. Harry suddenly understood. "He taught you some nasty things to do to me, right?"

Tipping his glass up, Draco nodded guiltily. Then he shrugged. "That was Father. Always looking out for the Malfoy name and honour. And he viewed you as someone who dishonoured the name. And of course we were bound to Voldemort as well. He taught me about that, too."

The olive bobbed against Harry's upper lip as he drained the last from his glass. He felt a little light-headed. "I'm sorry it turned out this way. I'm sorry they didn't like me. I'm sorry…I didn't like them."

"Oh well. Father trying to kill you and all. It's to be expected."

"Yeah. I guess so." Harry patted the key in his pocket wondering when the best time would be to use it. Draco had planned this honeymoon probably down to the minute, but Harry didn't think he'd mind a little surprise. It was just going to take some courage on Harry's part to spring it.

Draco tipped the glass back and drained his again. He set it down and pushed away from the bar. "I've got to go to the loo. I'll be back."

Harry thought he noted a bit of a strain in his voice and said nothing as Draco headed through the throng.

The bartender gestured to Harry if he wanted another, but Harry shook his head. He turned away from the bar and watched the men dancing under the colored lights and haze of cigarette smoke. He was glad he was out of this scene. He really didn't enjoy it much. He imagined Draco would have done. But now here he was, tied to Harry. He frowned a bit. For the first time, something at the back of his mind grew just a little bit more, edging to the forefront, and he dared give it breathing room. Had it been a mistake getting married so young? Of course Harry had been absolutely certain about Draco. He had loved him for years, after all. But Draco had only discovered his orientation a year ago. Was it right to saddle him with Harry for the rest of his life?

Harry shook his head. Why was he thinking these thoughts? It must be the alcohol. That was a strong drink. Only firewhiskey was as strong. At least he thought so.

This was silly. Draco loved him. And when you love someone, it's for keeps, right? They were ready for this. If Draco wasn't he would have said "no"- Wait. He had said "no" at first. Harry had convinced him to say "yes". Told him that it wasn't a mistake. That Harry wouldn't regret it. That's what Draco had worried about. But what about Draco regretting it? That had not come up.

He shook his head again. Why was he doing this? This was insane. He loved Draco and Draco loved him. End of story.

Harry felt his neck hairs prickle and he snapped his head to the side and found himself staring into a pair of dark, glittering eyes. The face belonging to those eyes was pale and his nose a bit big and hooked, reminding him absurdly of Snape. His hair, too, was dark and hung much like Snape's did. But unlike Snape, this man was strangely attractive. He was older, possibly Snape's age when last Harry saw him. He spoke to Harry in French with a dark, silky voice. Harry didn't understand him but that didn't mean he didn't want to listen. But at last Harry had to shrug. "English. I only speak English," he said shaking his head.

The man's pale lips curled into a smile. "You are foreign. I speak English." His voice was heavily accented but the silky tone was the same. He blinked languidly.

"Right." Harry tore his gaze away and glanced about the room. "Great place, this," he said nervously.

The man edged closer. "I have not seen you here before."

"First time. In France, that is."

"Are you here with someone?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. My husband, actually." It was the first time Harry had said it aloud to another person, and though sounding a bit odd on his ear, he found he relished the saying of it. He thumbed his wedding ring.

"Husband? This is so in England?"

"Yes. W-where I come from, yes." He almost said in the Wizarding community. He didn't fancy Obliviating this man and was glad he caught himself, though he wondered vaguely if he was a wizard. He had that way about him. He wondered how he could broach the topic without Legilemizing him. He wished that maybe witches and wizards could all wear some sort of badge so they could easily identify one another.

"A pity. You are a very handsome man."

"Uh…thanks."

The man moved closer. Harry thought he had dismissed him rather soundly, but the man grazed Harry's hand with his own. Then with surprising speed, the man suddenly turned Harry and planted a kiss on Harry's lips. It started as a brief one, but he soon breached Harry's lips and plunged his tongue in, kissing Harry with a hungry fervency.

Harry roughly pushed him back. "Hey! I said I wasn't interested! Doesn't 'no' mean 'no' in France?"

The man looked disappointed but didn't apologize as he swept away with a wicked smile on his lips. Harry wiped his mouth and shook his head. A man standing on the other side of Harry gestured to the retreating man. "He's been stalking people all night," he said.

Harry turned to the man. He had an American accent and was clean-cut and dark-haired. "Really? What a prat."

"You're British. Do you live here or are you vacationing?"

"I don't live here. I'm…actually I'm on my honeymoon."

"No kidding!" He put his hand out to shake. "Congratulations."

Harry blushed and shook his hand. "Thanks. It's all still a bit new."

"I hear you. You're in for a whole new experience. I just came off of a long term relationship myself," he said, voice slightly strained. "Came here with some friends to put it behind me. Of course, they've ditched me so I'd mingle. I forgot how to do this scene."

"Yeah. I don't envy you."

"I envy you." He looked at Harry.

Harry wanted to tell the man that he was good-looking and seemed like a nice bloke and everything would probably be okay, but that wasn't always the case, so Harry kept silent. "Well, as long as you stay away from that scary bloke, it should be all right."

"Yeah. Good advice. Look, not that I'm hitting on you or anything, but what's your name? I'm Walter, by the way."

"Harry." And they shook hands again, but laughed when they realized they already had once.

"Can I buy you a drink, Harry? Just a congratulatory one."

"Oh…" Harry turned toward the bar. "You know, I'm just waiting-"

"That's okay," said Walter, waving his hand and facing the bar beside him. "I was just getting in some practice."

Harry chuckled and slowly sobered, thinking. "How long were you together?"

"Five years. I really expected to go long-term. I'm not one of those guys who likes to play the field. But he felt smothered, so…"

"Hmm."

"So how about you and your…husband? How long have you been together?"

"Oh…really only a year."

"A year? And you got married?"

"Well…the thing of it is, we've known each other for years before. We just…never got together."

"One of you not out of the closet?"

"Yeah. Surprising, really."

Walter leaned on the bar and pushed a coaster on the wet surface. "So what do you do, Harry?"

"I'm a teacher."

"Really? What do you teach?"

"Er…Defense Against...er…against anything, I guess," he ended lamely.

"Oh, like Judo or something?"

"Something like that."

"Not one of those English boarding schools?"

"Yes, actually. The same one I attended."

"Really. There's supposed to be a lot of action at those schools," he said, waggling his brows. "Was it like that when you were a kid? We're a little envious of them in the States."

"Action? Oh…oh no. It's not like that. Could have used a little when I attended, but no. Not like that. And it's girls and boys."

"I see. All my fantasies are crumbling." He took a drink from his sweaty glass. "You must enjoy teaching, I bet. Kids are great, aren't they? I coach a little football. Not the same as British football, I guess, but you know."

"That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Kids are great. I was hoping to have kids someday. Guess I'll have to find that relationship that sticks, right? What about you? Ever think about kids?"

"No, I haven't. I mean, I just got married yesterday and we went through a bloody mess trying to get through it."

"Family problems?"

"No family to get in the way, thank goodness. But Ministry-I mean government paperwork and…and such."

"Oh yes. What a pain. Easier to get your dog licensed than for two gay men to marry. What a world."

"It's getting better."

"What's going on here?"

Harry spun. Draco stood behind him with his hands at his hips. He was scowling. Harry straightened and gave Draco an angry look. "Walter, this is my jealous husband, Draco."

Walter put his hand out. "'Draco'? That's an unusual name. Is that English?"

"It's mine. And I'm not jealous. I'm just wondering what the hell's going on."

"We were just talking, Draco," said Walter. "Look. I guess I'll leave you two alone and find my friends. It was nice meeting you. Congratulations again." He waved and left.

Harry turned on Draco. "You didn't have to be so rude. He was just being friendly. He's just come off of a long-term relationship. He was probably lonely."

"Yes, well let him be lonely with someone else's husband."

"Draco, sometimes you can be quite an arse."

Draco scowled which soon turned to contrition. "I'm sorry. It's just…there you were talking to some man-"

"It's a gay club! Who do you expect me to be talking to?"

"All right! I said I was sorry. Do you want to leave?"

Draco had such a sorrowful look on his face that Harry's heart melted. "No, you idiot. Let's dance."

Draco's sorrowful expression turned to a smiling one. "Thought you'd never ask."

They escaped to the dance floor again and the music turned to some slow rhythms. This made Harry happier as he wanted to lean against Draco. He put his cheek against his lover's and rocked with him, allowing Draco to lead. "That's better," he murmured.

"You like slow dancing," Draco commented.

"'Course. It gives me an excuse to grind against you."

"You don't need an excuse, mate. Anytime."

"I know." They danced a while and Harry couldn't help but play the conversation with Walter in his head. "Draco?"

"Yes, Harry love?"

"Do you ever think of…children?"

"Have to all the time, don't I? I teach classes, remember?"

"That's…not what I meant."

There was a pause before Draco pulled back suddenly and stared Harry in the face. "What are you talking about? You mean kids? Of our own?"

"Well…yeah. Someday."

He made a sound deep in his throat and yanked Harry back against him. He stumbled. "Blimey, Potter! We just got married."

"I didn't mean tomorrow! Oh just forget it."

They danced distractedly in silence for another set. Draco finally spoke. "Okay. So maybe I have thought about it."

"Really?"

"Well sure. Father was always trying to line me up with likely candidates for wives. Have to maintain the family line. We all thought Parkinson was it, you know?"

"I didn't think you loved her?"

"I didn't. Didn't even much like her. Now I think she's all right."

"But you would have married her?"

"Sure. Purebloods are hard to come by. Beggars can't be choosers. This was, of course, if our side-I mean, if Voldemort had won."

Harry ignored the slip. "You would have been miserable."

"Since I wasn't too happy as a Death Eater it was immeasurably preferable, I can assure you. Of course, after getting together with you, it's now completely unimaginable." He gave Harry a squeeze.

Harry squeezed back. "What made you do it? Come to me that particular night?" Harry thought back on that one, marvelous night a year ago when Draco declared his sexuality to himself as well as to Harry…in Harry's bed.

"It was a really good day. I was suddenly a wizard again. Dumbledore offered me the post as potions master. I couldn't remember feeling that good before and I just thought about how it all happened and it all came down to you. And then I thought about how I felt about you and suddenly everything clicked into place. I had quite the hard-on. You can imagine how astonished I was that it was for a man and you in particular."

"I'm certainly grateful, though."

Draco held Harry closer. Their cheeks were touching again. "You were so gentle with me. And I wanted to feel everything. I wanted it all."

"You certainly did."

"And you supplied it, you slut."

"You're calling me a slut? I'm not the one that begged to be-"

"Now, now. I just wanted to experience the whole gay sex thing, you know. It was all new to me."

"I wanted you so badly." He crushed Draco to him and brushed his lips along his lover's cheek. "I'd wanted you for years. I was afraid it was a dream."

"I'm yours forever, Harry," he whispered. "Just try to get rid of me."

Harry smiled into Draco's neck.

"But you've managed to change the subject, Harry love."

"Mmm?"

"You were talking about kids."

"Oh. Well. Just for a conversation in the future."

"Oh no you don't. That's not how you work. You're as devious as any woman. You will pick at me until there's nothing left but bones. So let's talk now."

"O-ka-ay. What shall we-?"

"Do you want kids, Harry?"

"Um…yes. I think I do."

"So have you thought about the mechanics of it?"

"The…the mechanics?"

"Yes, you twit. Adoption or surrogate?"

"Oh! Well, no."

"It would have to be surrogate. Bloodlines, you know."

"You really still care about all that? Even after Voldemort-"

"Especially. Maybe we should each consider it, us being the ends of our respective lines."

"Oh, I don't know, Draco. I don't really care about that sort of thing myself. Though it would be fun having a little Draco running about."

Malfoy smiled. "Really? You'd like that?"

"Sure. Always wondered what a humble Malfoy would be like."

Draco bit his earlobe.

"Ow! That hurt!"

"Manners, Potter. So. This we'll keep in mind for a later conversation, right?"

"Right. For now, I'm just content to be your new husband and to dance the night away with you in my arms… And maybe get a plaster for my ear."

"I can agree to that."

They danced for several more hours until almost sun up and returned weary to their hotel. By late morning, Harry suggested that they actually see a bit of Provence since they'd spent the better part of their first day shagging in their suite. Draco reluctantly agreed and told Harry of a small village where he said they could get possibly the best bread in the country.

Harry convinced Draco to travel by bicycle to the little village, and after a few attempts, Draco swore and simply charmed his to stay upright. They traveled down a long road lined on either side by a colonnade of trees. Draco had been right. Even the light looked different here, as if the sky were dabbed with a paint brush and smeared by some magical hand. The air was filled with the aroma of lavender and there were still the remains of purple sprinkled about in the fields beyond the road. They passed quaint farmhouses whose roofs groaned under drooping rafters. Curious cows stood near fences, looking them over.

They stopped in the village, went to a bistro, and lunched on fresh bread, cheese, and wine. Harry gazed over the table at his beloved and couldn't think of a more perfect moment.

"Draco, this is amazing. I never knew bread could taste so good. And this cheese! You've spoiled me for anything else."

Draco twirled the stem of his wine glass and smiled. "Didn't I tell you."

"But I could never somehow believe it." Being brought up by the Dursleys, he never got to sample food the first time around. He was always getting leftovers or some substitute. Certainly nothing fresh and nothing as good as this. He leaned over the table and gave Draco a loving gaze. "I want nothing more than to make love to you right now."

"Steady on, Potter," he said quietly, looking about. "There's no place to do that."

"I saw what looked like an abandoned barn about half a mile back." He waggled his brows in what he hoped was a seductive way.

Draco blushed. "You're incorrigible."

"Just in love. And desperately horny."

Draco slurped his wine, eyes darting. "Are you serious?"

"Very! Well?"

"Okay," he mouthed. Harry giggled. But he didn't know how he was to mount his bicycle aroused as he was.

They headed back up the road and stopped near the barn, dismounting and pulling their bicycles up the verge and into the field. They propped them against the grey wood of the barn hidden from the lane, and peered inside the door hanging ajar.

The gloom of the structure was cut by stripes of light streaming from the broken roof. Motes of dust floated upward toward the persistent sunshine.

"Just where did you have in mind for this tryst, Harry?"

"Well…here. In the hay. Very rustic."

"In the hay? And get straw up my arse? I don't think so."

"Well what did you think when I said 'barn'?"

"I don't know. But not this."

"Please, Draco. I don't think I can wait." Standing behind the blond, Harry ran his hands over Draco's shoulders and nibbled that spot at the nape of his neck. It smelled like Draco sweat, possibly the most intoxicating scent in the universe. "Please," he whispered. Draco shivered but tried to hide it.

"I'm conjuring a bed."

"All right. Just be careful. Take your time. Don't expend too much energy-"

Draco lowered his wand. "Do you want to do this?"

"No. Go ahead."

Draco lifted the wand again and as gently as he could flicked it toward a sunny corner. A bed with white sheets and a white duvet instantly appeared with a very loud crack that made them wince, shaking the walls, and showering the clean bed with straw matter and old feathers.

"That wasn't so bad," said Harry and he began to strip.

Draco watched him for a moment before he, too, pulled off his clothes. They both dived for the bed at the same time and grabbed one another, rolling into a tight embrace. Draco's lips found Harry's and they kissed for a long time, whispering sweetly to one another. "Harry love, I want you on your hands and knees," Draco finally said.

Harry quickly complied.

"Oh you are a sight," said Draco, getting up on his knees behind him. "You put me in mind of a certain centaur."

Harry giggled in spite of himself. "It was hard not to look. I was a bit envious."

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"I know, but I mean…"

Draco chuckled. "No wonder girls like horses so much."

Harry said nothing more as Draco ran his hands up Harry's bum, massaging, caressing, and then dragging his nails along the goosefleshed surface. Harry gave a moan and wriggled.

"You have no idea how enticing you are like that," Draco murmured. He dropped his lips to Harry's flesh, raining soft kisses along his backside that became delicate licks and long stripes. His tongue dipped into the cleft and it took all of Harry's control not to buck upward. He spread his legs more and was rewarded by Draco's fingers teasing his balls until his hand closed over the sac and gave it a squeeze, just enough to zoom its arousal into Harry's already wooden erection. Draco continued this as well as licking downward into Harry's cleft and lapped at the flesh of his entrance. Draco's talented tongue dabbed, made circles, and jabbed into that puckered area and breached the tight muscle. His lips flattened around it and sucked gently. Harry did buck that time and exhaled a long, "Dra-a-aco!"

Draco gave a low chuckle. "Something you want, Potter?" he said, lips still caressing his anus. "Something right here?" And he punctuated his question with a long stroke of his tongue.

"Oh God!"

"There's no need to call me that, though I'm certain I appear as one to you at the moment."

"Draco! Shut up and shag me!"

"Well, since you put it so eloquently." Draco had produced some lubrication, and smeared it over and into Harry's backside and then he felt Draco's cock at the entrance. He pushed it slowly forward until it breached the tight muscle. Harry relaxed and pushed back against him, sucking it in deeper.

"Ooooo," groaned Harry.

"Is that better, Mon petit? Is that what you wanted?"

Sensation drove all thoughts from his head. Draco was thrusting in earnest now, and all Harry's attention was naturally on that. Draco nipped at Harry's neck and ran his hands roughly down his sides and finally settled on his hips, which he grabbed tightly, close to bruising. Harry moved with Draco, countering each thrust by backing into it. He grabbed his own straining cock and pumped it, running his fingers over the weeping head, and imagining it within Draco.

Draco's thrusts changed angles a few times until he found the sweet spot, knowing it by Harry's strangled exultations. They both moved faster until Harry felt every sensation in his body gather in his restricting balls and his cock suddenly exploded upon the sheets. Draco's orgasm followed immediately, and Harry had the added sensation of his lover's hot cum shooting straight up into him.

They stayed suspended like that for a moment before Draco pulled out of him and fell to the side. Draco's cum dribbled out of Harry and he felt it stream down his thigh as he eased down onto his stomach. "Bloody marvelous!"

"Why thank you, Harry. It was, wasn't it?"

Harry breathed into the mattress for a bit until he mustered the strength to roll toward Draco and wrap him in his arms. "I love you. I love when you shag me. I love your tongue and your lips. I love everything you do, you bloody Slytherin."

"Same here, my little Gryffindor. Now this is what I call cooperation between the houses."

"Not top on Dumbledore's list, I bet."

"Probably not. But it should have been."

They settled down together with a long sigh. Harry became drowsy and slept a little but woke a minute later when Draco shuffled his position, nuzzling Harry's neck. Once his initial desperation had subsided, Harry began to consider his musings of last night at the club and how Draco sought to identify with a community in which he had previously no interest. And he thought about how Draco was now married and tied to Harry and it made him a bit uncomfortable, so much so he finally had to ask.

"Um…Draco. I was thinking. You don't have any regrets that we married so quickly, do you?"

"What?"

Harry squirmed a bit. "I mean, here you are, just barely come out to yourself, and now you're saddled with me for the rest of your life. I just wondered-"

"And you bring this up now? Two days after we're married?"

"It's just that I've only just thought of your side of things. How different it must be. And it was a heady year, you're coming back to the Wizarding world and all and getting the post as potions master."

He sat up. "I can't believe you. You've only just thought of this?"

Harry pushed himself up slowly and looked up worriedly at Draco's reddened face. "So…so are you thinking of it now, too?"

"You are such a git! Do you think that after all we've been through that I'd look at anyone else? Just because I'm new at being gay? I'm insulted!" He clamped his arms over his chest and turned away.

"I didn't mean…I mean, you are new to it, and that club was a bit intense, and-"

Draco's voice was low with menace. "You're only making it worse for yourself."

"I love you a lot, you know. And I was just overwhelmed by the fact that you were finally interested in me in that way. I just didn't think beyond that. I was so grateful I didn't question it. Now I realize it may not have been entirely fair to you."

"You are really digging yourself in deeper, Potter," he growled. He snapped his head toward Harry. "Do you think that I can't make up my own mind? Yes, I may be shallow, but I know what being in love feels like. And I am in love with you, you stupid idiot. Unless you keep talking and royally piss me off."

Harry opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"I am glad we got married, okay! I wanted to. I wanted you, you great prat. I still do. Yes, even two bloody days later. And I imagine even two bloody days from now I will feel the same way. And maybe even two hundred years from now as well. As long as you shut your mouth and keep your stupid opinions to yourself! And no, at this moment I don't know why I love you, but I do. So just shut it and leave it alone. God, Potter! Why do you have to second-guess everything?"

"I…I…."

Draco grabbed him and kissed him soundly, not letting up until Harry sunk against him. He drew his lips away and caressed Harry's face. "I love you," Draco said softly. "That's never going to change. I'll always love you. No matter how many hot men are paraded in front of me. Because I love you. And none of them can ever be Harry Potter. There's just something about you I need. Okay?"

Harry felt a lump in his throat and only nodded, being unable to speak.

Draco leaned down and kissed him again and then gave him a squeeze before getting up from the bed. "Hadn't we better push off before the day gets away from us?"

"'Course."

They both dressed and Harry stole glimpses of Draco from time to time. Draco vanished the bed with a roar of air escaping and they gingerly left the still vibrating barn. They mounted their bicycles again and headed back to the hôtel.

They pedaled a while in silence, Harry enjoying the country view and the warm rays of sun slanting now through the parade of trees. "Draco," he asked tentatively. "Um…Will you tell me about the trial? How you got along as a…you know. As a Muggle?"

Draco turned a shrouded expression toward him. "Why?"

"Because I'd like to know. As your husband, I want to know everything about you. And you haven't told me."

Draco considered. "If I tell you, will you tell me about Voldemort?"

"What do you mean?" But Harry had the feeling he knew.

"How you killed him, Harry. I really want to hear it. I mean, I was there but I still don't understand it. You've never told anyone and I feel I have a right to know."

Harry took a deep breath, eyes still scanning the countryside but not seeing it. Finally he nodded. "All right. You tell me first, and then I'll tell you."


On to Chapter Two
"Draco's Detour"

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