Harry's heart started pounding when he read the note. Ginny walked in the room and Harry slapped the note behind his back, smiling guiltily at her. She frowned at him for a moment but then shrugged and continued on, carrying a laundry basket up the stairs.

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead. Wednesday was tomorrow! He'd go in early to work and then leave early-no, no! What was he thinking! He wasn't going to go to the Leaky Cauldron. This was madness! There wasn't a damned thing for them to talk about.

He tossed the parchment into the fire and immediately regretted it. Was he getting soft on Malfoy? This was utterly ridiculous. He needed to talk to someone about this, but who on this whole planet could he trust-? Wait. Could he?

He peered up the staircase and heard Ginny busily folding laundry and humming to herself.

"Ginny! I've got to go out for a bit. See you in a few."

"Okay, Harry. I'll have dinner on when you get back."

He rushed to the fireplace and tossed in Floo powder. "Headmistress McGonagall!"

* * *

Harry stepped from the Floo into the Headmistress' office. McGonagall stood to greet him. He noticed her gait was not as swift as it used to be.

"My dear Harry!" she said with a wide smile and pulled him into a hug. "Now what is it that was so important? Auror business?"

He could lie but he didn't want to. "No, Professor. I would just like to talk to Professor Dumbledore's portrait, if I may. Um...in private."

She cocked her head just like she used to, and frowned a little, though with the wrinkles on her face, the frown looked considerably more pronounced these days. "I see. Very well. I will leave you two alone then, shall I?"

But as she departed, Harry realized with all the portraits of previous headmasters now staring at him, he was far from alone. "Er...." His eyes scanned the many faces and fell, as it always did, on Snape's portrait. Severus Snape sneered down at him from the dark surface of his canvas. He never seemed grateful at all that Harry had fought tooth and nail to get his portrait ensconced with the others. The man had left his post, the governing board had told him, and any headmaster or headmistress who left their post to leave the students to the mercy of any opposing force was no headmaster in their eyes, even if it turned out later that he was a hero. But as usual, when it came to things Voldemort, Harry had prevailed.[1] Though Snape never deigned to talk to him.

Dumbledore's portrait turned to him and smiled over his half-moon spectacles. His blue eyes twinkled. "Harry, my boy. It is good to see you."

"Professor Dumbledore." Harry approached and looked into those painted blue eyes. A lump formed in his throat but he swallowed and, dry-eyed, faced his former headmaster. "It's good to see you, too, sir."

"I understand you wish to talk to me."

Harry sighed and sat on the edge of the desk. "I didn't really have anyone else to talk to."

"Oh? Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger? Forgive me. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I do keep forgetting, even after all this time."

"Ordinarily, with an ordinary problem, I could go to Ron and Hermione. But this is no ordinary problem."

"Indeed. Does it concern dark wizards?"

In a way. "No, sir. Nothing like that. It's a...personal...problem. I just didn't know who to go to."

"And your own wife-?"

"Can't. It concerns her, though."

"Well then." The portrait, though already seated, appeared to get comfortable. "I think it mete before you say anything, that I demand of the others to keep whatever information you are about to divulge a secret." He cocked an eye toward the other portraits.

Phineas Nigellus snorted. "As if we would say anything to anyone."

"It's always special privileges with Potter, isn't it?" said Snape to Nigellus.

"I need not remind you of the geas you are under then," Dumbledore interrupted. He turned back to Harry and gazed out placidly.

"Well...okay." Looking at Dumbledore's kind face, Harry didn't know if he could tell him what a cad he was. But he had come here for guidance.

"It's just that...I ran into...um...Draco Malfoy on the platform when we were sending our kids off to Hogwarts." He waited for Dumbledore to interrupt, to tell him he shouldn't continue those old schoolboy rivalries, but the man said nothing. "So I didn't think anything of it, you know, and I wandered away from my group and just...hung around. Alone. But Malfoy had followed me and we only said a few words to each other when, all of a sudden, we just...we...." Harry was breathing hard and wringing his hands.

"Take your time, Harry," said the former headmaster.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other headmasters lean forward.

More quietly, he said, "We started...kissing."

The only indication of expression on Dumbledore's face was a raise in his brows.

Harry edged closer, eyeing the other portraits frowning at him. "I've never done anything like that before," he whispered. "Never. Never wanted to. And I checked. We weren't hexed or anything. We just lost control. We kissed and then we...we...rubbed against each other and then...Oh God." He pressed his hand to his burning face. He was so embarrassed.

"And Mr. Malfoy. How did he react?"

"Just like me. We were both mortified. We left and that was it. Except...I couldn't let it go. I had to talk with him about it. We agreed to meet in a private meeting room at the Leaky Cauldron."

"And did he go?"

"Yes. And then the same thing happened again. Only this time it was worse."

"Worse?"

"We...touched each other. Headmaster, what does it mean? I'm not gay. I'm a perfectly happily married man with children."

Dumbledore considered for a moment. "Ah Harry," he said after a time. "Perhaps I had best tell you a little about myself. No doubt, you recall the book Rita Skitter wrote some years ago."

"That rag? Hermione read some of it to us, but..."

"Yes, it was read to me as well," he said with a frown. "But how interesting that she left out quite an interesting aspect of my personality, something that would not have helped you at the time but might be of benefit now."

He paused, and Harry, now curious, waited. Dumbledore heaved a sigh. "I understand you got the real story from Aberforth."

"Yes."

"But not all of it. Certainly you understood that Gellert Grindlewald and I were fast friends."

"Yes, sir."

"But what you didn't know, and perhaps what my brother never realized, is that...Gellert and I...were also lovers."

Harry stared at the man open-mouthed. He guessed he never considered that any of the former headmasters might have been gay. But of course, that was stupid not to have assumed it.

But...Dumbledore?

"I see I have surprised you, Harry." The old wizard glanced toward the other portraits. "And a few of you lot as well."

Harry's mind kicked back into gear from its frozen state. Dumbledore gay? He never knew, never suspected. The man never seemed gay...but perhaps that was the point. And then another thought turned over itself, at the tragedy of it.

"You were enemies," Harry said quietly.

Dumbledore's eyes, usually sparkling, dimmed a bit. "Only later. When his true feelings about wizardkind pierced through the armor of my love for him. It was one of the two most difficult things I have ever had to do. The other was not telling you the true nature of your own fate."

Harry felt his eyes grow hot and he blinked it away. "But...did you always know you were gay?"

"No. Not until I met Gellert. And there was never anyone else after him."

"But...isn't that awfully lonely?"

"Yes. It was. I do not recommend it."

That didn't make Harry feel better at all. "Oh."

"You seem disappointed," said Albus. "Not the answer you were looking for?"

"Well…it's just not what I imagined for myself. There's so much more to consider. My wife. My children. I love my wife!"

"I've no doubt of that," said the former headmaster. "I don't think you are required to fall out of love with her. I suppose it is up to each man or woman to decide what their lives will be. You have chosen to be a married man with children. But now you may have to define yourself differently. Are you prepared to stay the course, Harry…or strike out in another direction?"

"Leave my wife? My kids? I couldn't do that to them."

"Remember, Harry, it is our choices not our lot that defines us. If you have made yours, I hope it will be a happy one. Love is a funny thing. It can take so many forms. It's neither black nor white, but all the colours."

Harry lowered his head. He certainly had wanted more encouraging counsel. But the truth could not be bargained with.

"Did you get your answer, Harry?" asked Dumbledore after a moment.

"Um…yes. I suppose. Thank you, sir," he said. He glanced quickly at Snape, but he wasn't gloating as Harry suspected he might. Harry reckoned there were a few on that wall who had made bad decisions concerning love.

"Come to see me again, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am most interested in how you fare."

"Okay, professor," he said before turning and shuffling toward the door.

Harry arrived home in time for dinner. He did not owl Draco. And the next morning, he went to work at the normal time.

* * *

Draco waited at the Leaky Cauldron, fortifying himself with Firewhiskey. He drank another snootful and looked at his pocket watch. It was half past two. He clicked his tongue against his teeth. Potter wasn't coming. He hadn't replied to his owl and he wasn't coming now.

A great sadness welled in Draco's chest. Getting ready today, he had felt like a teenager again. He was bubbling with an excitement he hadn't felt in ages. Yet he knew in the back of his mind the possibility of failure just waiting to spring on him. And here it was. Potter had done the brave thing and had ended it, whatever "it" was. He was right, of course. There was disaster written all over this. Potter had the perfect marriage and three children. Draco had Scorpius who had now befriended Albus bloody Potter. Complete disaster written all over it.

Draco rose. He tossed a few Sickles on the table and straightened his robe. Well. That was that. He headed for the exit and was nearly upended-by Harry Potter.

Harry was panting hard as if he had run a long way in a short time. "I'm sorry I'm late," he breathed.

Draco was struck dumb. Facing Harry suddenly was a shock to the system, especially since he had prepared himself for rejection. "Oh," was all he was able to say once speech returned to him.

Harry glanced about warily. "Do you…have a place…?"

"Uh…yes! Yes, I do. This way." His heart was thrumming in his chest as he led the way. He felt Harry's presence behind him and an inexplicable feeling of joy quickened his step. At almost the same time, Draco felt a bit stupid. He had never experienced these feelings before. And he certainly couldn't ever remember a time when he was happy to see Harry Potter.

He took out the key that he had been rubbing like a worry stone in his pocket and opened the door, grateful he hadn't dropped the key in his nervousness.

The room was another ordinary Leaky Cauldron room. Harry closed the door and Draco pivoted on his heel, a feeling of expectancy keeping him on edge.

Harry was staring at his feet. He leaned against the door and didn't look as if he would venture further than the threshold. "I wasn't even sure I was going to come. I actually planned on not coming." He rubbed his face with his hand. "It's all so complicated."

Draco took a breath. "Then why are you here?"

Harry raised his eyes at that. His gorgeous green eyes took in Draco. Draco had never really paid much attention to those eyes before, but he had unwillingly heard from giggling girls for the six years he attended Hogwarts about how beautiful those eyes were. But they really were. Even through the lenses of those ridiculous glasses.

"Why am I here?" Harry repeated. He looked on the verge of tears. The hand that had so recently rubbed his face raked a path through his wild, black hair. "I…I couldn't not come."

Draco waited. What was going to happen now? Would it be the same? Or would Harry leave? And just as he thought that, Harry said, almost too softly to hear, "This is a mistake." He turned to go when Draco called out, "Harry!"

Harry froze. He looked over his shoulder at Draco. "You called me 'Harry'. I don't think I ever remember hearing you say that."

Draco approached, his feet feeling like lead. "Harry," he said again, quietly, like a prayer. When he reached him he lifted his hands to Harry's face. He cupped it and gazed at him. Harry's eyes were filling with tears. "Why are you crying?"

One glossy eye released a tear and it tracked slowly down his cheek, collecting in Draco's palm. "I don't know," croaked Harry.

"Shhh," whispered Draco. He inched closer and pressed his lips very gently to Harry's. A sob muffled by Draco's kiss escaped Harry's throat, but in the next moment, he opened his mouth and took in Draco's probing tongue. The kiss began softly and gradually deepened. They clasped one another tightly, kissing as if they could only live through this tender contact.

A gasp tore Draco away for a moment, but only so he could whisper to Harry's lips, "I want you. Oh, I want you so badly."

Harry whimpered and ran his hands up and down Draco's quivering torso. Harry kissed him quickly, touching just the edge of Draco's mouth. "I don't understand this. But I want to be inside you, Draco. I...I want to...fuck you." His green gaze was steady and fierce but suddenly those eyes that probed Draco so sternly softened. "No. I don't mean that."

Draco swallowed his disappointment. He tried to regain his dignity when Harry spoke again.

"I didn't mean that. I meant...I want...to make love to you."

Draco clutched Harry's arms. Speechless with desire, he could only nod. Harry took his hand and led him to the bed. They toed off their shoes and lay down, facing each other. Harry reached forward and began unbuttoning Draco's shirt. Watching for a few moments, Draco tentatively stretched forward and began clumsily unbuttoning Harry's. Sitting up, they peeled off the shirts from the other's shoulders.

Naked from the waist up, Harry's skin seemed golden, as if he often worked out in the sun. At least it was golden as compared to Draco's paleness. Harry's chest was broad and a thatch of dark hair sprouted from between well-defined pectorals. His nipples were small, dark ovals begging to be touched. Draco stared at them, never before imagining that this sight of a man could be so enticing. Lifting a hand without his thinking twice about it, his fingertips brushed across one, making it crinkle to a hard rivet. More than anything he wanted to taste it and he leaned over and touched his tongue to the hard flesh, rolling it between his lips. Harry made a sound that stiffened Draco's cock even more than it already was. He felt Harry's hands on his face, in his hair. "Draco," Harry whispered passionately. Draco kissed his way across Harry's chest, nosing through the silky chest hair, and reached the other nipple, doing the same, twisting it slightly with delicate teeth. Harry cried out and pulled on Draco's face, bringing it up to his and planting a possessive kiss to his mouth. Draco sunk into the sublime sensation, letting Harry's arms encircle him and hold tightly. It was almost more than his dick could take.

Harry drew back and his eyes glittered behind his askew glasses. One finger pushed them up his nose in an absentminded gesture. Draco sat up and they began again jointly working on the other's trousers.

It wasn't as easy doing this in their sitting positions but with a few clumsy moves and a bit of rolling hips, they managed and soon two pairs of trousers were left crumpled on the floor. Draco looked down at Harry's white underpants and at the remarkable bulge beneath it. He remembered holding that dick in his hand and couldn't wait to reveal it again. But before he could reach for it, Harry's fingers were running up his own pronounced bulge in his tight, green briefs.

He looked down at the remarkable sight of Harry Potter's hand on his groin and the man's concentrated stare at his bits as if studying a complicated spell book back in class. When Harry spoke, his voice was roughened by lust. "I liked very much how your cock looked."

"I liked yours," Draco answered, more breathlessly than his ego would have liked.

Those eyes snapped up, looking at Draco. "Shall we?"

Draco almost giggled at Harry's politeness. One lump or two, came the giddy thought out of nowhere.

By mutual consent, they peeled the other's briefs away, slipping them down white legs, pulling off socks while they went-and Draco treated himself to the sight of Harry's fuzzy bollocks jiggling as he lifted up his leg to rid himself of his last sock.

And then they were both lying on the bed, bare-bollocks naked, raking each other with their eyes and breathing raggedly.

Harry didn't hesitate. He took Draco into his arms and kissed him. Draco felt the heat of Harry's flesh, the feel of it, against his own skin, and groaned at how absolutely brilliant it was. He wanted more and snaked a leg over Harry's thigh which brought his erection up against the other man's. Raising his hips, Draco frotted against him. Harry tore away from their kiss and pushed Draco back. Affronted at first, he understood when Harry rasped, "No. I'll come if you continue that. And I want to come inside you."

Draco licked his kiss-moistened lips. "I want that, too."

Draco dived for Harry's neck and kissed it, inhaling the tangy male scent of him. But it wasn't just a man's aroma. It was that unique Harry Potter scent. He had smelled it over the years when they had gotten into fights at school, and on that last flight on Potter's broom out of the burning Room of Requirement. He hadn't smelled it in nineteen years, but it was the same. No. Not quite the same. That had been the scent of a boy fresh in his pubescence. This was now the completion of what was started, the smell of a full-grown and powerful man. Draco inhaled again, licking his way up the beard-stubbled neck.

"God!" Harry sighed. Draco nipped at the skin at the hollow of his throat. Harry's hands traveled around Draco's torso and dropped lower until they grasped his bum. He squeezed and Draco made a purring noise in his throat.

Harry's hands didn't stop. They seemed to want to explore every inch of Draco's skin. "Your skin is so soft," whispered Harry. "It's smooth, like marble. I've never seen anything like it." He leaned over and kissed Draco's shoulder with tender reverence. Draco gushed. "All of you," said Harry in a voice that had Draco thinking that the man wasn't aware of saying any of this out loud. "It's remarkable. And beautiful." He looked Draco in the eye. "You are beautiful."

Ordinarily, Draco wouldn't have put up with something like that, but from Harry it was like a royal mantle. He blushed, even though Malfoys never blush.

Harry smiled at Draco's reddening skin. "That's beautiful, too." He kissed Draco's cheek. Not satisfied with one kiss, he leaned in and kissed his jaw, then his neck, and then a spot behind his ear, all the while gently pushing Draco back onto the bed. Draco lay supine as Harry kissed his neck, licking his earlobe, and kissing downward. His hand caressed lower, fluttering at Draco's stomach as his kisses traveled to his chest. His lips toyed with a tiny pink nipple and Draco arched up, sensitive to the touch. Harry chuckled a deep sound in his chest. His hand, still traveling on its own, found the beginnings of Draco's pubic hair. Draco's spine fell back to the bed but his hips rose.

That hand delicately stroked the underside of his rigid and straining cock. The organ quivered under Harry's touch, but the man didn't wrap his hand around it as Draco wanted him to. Draco pushed his hips up, trying to entice Harry to more, but Harry seemed determined not to grab it just yet. His fingers merely explored, lowering to Draco's sac and playing with the testicles within.

Draco couldn't stand it. "Harry!" he gasped.

Harry stopped kissing his neck and looked down at his flushed skin. "I think you need to turn over," came his unsteady voice.

Draco whimpered. He complied and shifted on the mattress, his bum now on display.

As predicted, Harry's hands quickly covered each cheek, stroking and grabbing, kneading. Harry's breath was coming harsher now. "S-spread your legs a little, okay?"

Draco rested his cheek on his arms and shifted to open his legs. He was suddenly a bit embarrassed and was grateful to be able to hide his face behind his hair.

He felt Harry's thumbs dip delicately into his crack and then he was being spread open. The thought that Harry Potter was looking at his hole, something no one had ever looked at before, made it seem so naughty and clandestine, but so very, very arousing.

The bed dipped between Draco's legs as Harry positioned himself. A finger gently stroked over his arsehole and Draco jumped nearly off the bed.

Harry's hesitant voice came from above him. "I...I'm not sure what to do."

"You've never done this before?"

"No. Have you?"

"No! I just...be gentle. And go slowly, okay?"

"Of course. I don't want to hurt you."

The Hero. He's my Hero, Draco chanted in his head.

Harry's finger traced the tight furl of Draco's hole. Draco tried to relax, tried to open it, but it was unfamiliar and hard to concentrate on.

"It's...sort of dry," Harry commented. "It will hurt."

"Use spit."

"Lubricating charm." Harry said it in a way that seemed to beg for the suffix "Idiot!" "Accio wand!"

Harry could summon his wand? He was good.

Once Harry had his wand and incanted a spell Draco couldn't quite hear, he felt a coolness inside his bum, dripping out of him.

"Sorry," said Harry. "I might have overdone it. But I don't want it to hurt."

"That's fine." Draco couldn't think of anything else to say in his heightened state of arousal.

"Okay. I'm going to go slow."

Draco waited. It seemed to take forever but finally...it was there! Harry's cock. He felt it just press to the opening of his bum. He willed himself to relax...and then Harry pushed. The dome of his cock felt enormous. Even slickened up as he was, the pressure hurt. He gritted his teeth and opened his legs wider, hoping that would help. He felt Harry turning his hips, literally screwing forward. It seemed to do the job because Draco felt his body succumbing to Harry's assault. He split open and when just the cockhead sunk in, Harry stopped.

"Are you all right?"

Draco took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes. Go on."

Harry pushed further in, his hands gripping Draco's hips painfully.

"Your hands," Draco squeaked.

Harry loosened his grip. "Sorry. Ah! You're so tight. Gonna come-" Harry stopped and lowered his head to Draco's shoulder blades. He breathed hot breath onto Draco's sweaty skin for a few moments. The stretching in Draco's arse was uncomfortable and burned. But he waited patiently for Harry to continue.

Harry dropped a kiss on Draco's back before he marshaled his control and began pushing in again. "So incredibly tight...." he said, sighing it.

It felt better the deeper Harry went. Draco could feel his insides relax and he could finally appreciate the thickness and length of Harry's cock.

At last, he felt the soft brush of balls against his arse. "I'm in," said Harry, voice full of pride. "All the way. Are you okay?"

"I'm brilliant. Oh, Harry."

Harry took a few breaths. "Okay. I'm going to move now."

"Go slowly," said Draco.

Harry eased his cock out and then eased it back in. "That's wonderful!" Harry gasped.

"Yes." Draco was trying to wrap his head around the fact that Harry Potter's cock was up Draco's arse and they were both loving it. It felt right and sexy and perfect, even though it still hurt a little.

Harry slowly thrust in and out, but after a while, it didn't seem like enough. "Faster," Draco breathed.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Please."

Harry readjusted himself and thrust faster. When his cock slid in, it stroked over something inside Draco that made him give an uncontrollable shout.

Harry halted. "Draco? Are you okay?"

"Oh my god! What was that?"

"Are you all right? Should I pull out?"

"No! No, don't you dare! It was incredible! The most intense pleasure I ever felt. Do it again."

"I don't know what I did. I just thrust in, is all."

"Well do it again!"

Harry did but he didn't hit the spot. "Lower," Draco said.

Harry tried to aim...and found it.

"Oooohhh!"

"Holy shit, Draco."

"Holy shit, is right! It feels so good. Faster! Harder!"

Harry fell silent as his thrusts rammed in deeper and decidedly harder. Draco shifted up the bed with each ram in, but he aimed his arse up into Harry, trying to take more. It felt so amazing, like little orgasms over and over. It also had the effect of sliding his dick tightly between the mattress and his body.

"So...so good!" he heard above him. Harry kissed the back of his neck sloppily, aggressively. He felt Harry's hips jam him with each hard thrust, the thrusts becoming more erratic. He was surely going to come, and the thought sent Draco into his own pleasure spiral.

Harry came with a shout, his hips juttering and pumping hard against Draco's bum. It sent Draco over the edge and even trapped as his cock was, he spurted into the sheets and up his belly.

Harry's come didn't stay in his backside long. Draco felt the trickle as it dribbled from him and around Harry's dick, still deeply imbedded in him. It felt marvelous. He didn't want the feelings to ever end.

Harry stopped moving at last, panting heavily. His forehead sank between Draco's shoulder blades again. He moved his head to kiss Draco's sweaty back with many kisses.

He wanted Harry inside him forever, but it was becoming more painful the longer his shrinking cock stayed. Harry's cock finally slipped out and he fell to the bed beside him. Draco turned to face Harry and Harry was looking at Draco with wonder in his eyes. Draco imagined he had a similar expression on his own face. "You all right?" asked Harry.

Draco was a bit sore but he managed a smile. "Yes. I'm fine."

Harry stroked his face. "That was amazing. You were amazing."

"So were you." Draco wanted to touch Harry's unruly hair and he pushed the wayward fringe off his forehead.

Harry scooted closer and kissed him and Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and deepened the kiss. When they drew back, Harry looked down with surprise. "You came too?"

Draco smiled. "Yes. It was wonderful."

Harry smiled briefly and rolled onto his back. Draco couldn't tear his gaze from the man.

Harry sighed. "You know we've crossed a line just now."

Draco felt a twinge and a burning sensation in his arse. "No kidding."

Harry gazed at him thoughtfully. "The thing of it is... I think I may be in love with you."

A great warm glow bathed Draco's heart but almost at the same moment something stabbed at it, cutting it to the quick. "You can't be. We're not gay."

Harry laughed mirthlessly. "God, Draco! Yes. We are."

Not-so-vague suspicions seemed to trump any of Draco's doubts. "Shit."

"But we can't do this anymore," Harry went on. "We have to stop."

"I don't want to stop!" Draco heard the desperation in his voice but was powerless to do anything about it. "This is the happiest I've ever been in my life-"

He choked on the last. He hadn't been willing to reveal so much, and yet there it was: out in the open.

Harry looked at him with a tender expression. "Really?"

Squirming a bit, Draco reluctantly nodded.

"But what about your wife? What's-her-name?"

"I don't love her! That was a marriage of convenience."

Harry looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. It was arranged. All I had to do was show up and produce an heir. Which I did."

Harry snorted. "Listen to you. 'Produce an heir.' Crikey, Draco. I thought only the Royals had to worry over that one."

"Royals? What on earth are you talking about?"

Harry ignored his last remark. "Well it's a little different for me and Ginny. We chose each other. I love her. And I don't want to hurt her. Or my children."

Something hot and unpleasant clutched his heart. "Oh God. Scorpius." He bit his lip. "Did you know that my son is now best mates with yours?"

"What?" Harry jerked upright.

"Yes. Apparently my son took to heart some of the things I've been telling him about making friends outside his own house and he-"

"You told him that?"

Draco decided that the endearing look on Harry's face was one he wanted to see looking back at him for a very long time. "Yes," he said softly.

"When did you decide that?"

He wanted very badly to kiss Harry and he gave in to temptation, touching his lips gently to the other man's. Harry offered a soft smile. "Sometime after you rescued me from the FiendFyre. Um...I never thanked you for that. I'm thanking you now."

Harry touched Draco's chin with a knuckle, drawing a soft line along his jaw. "You're welcome," he whispered.

"So...so Scorpius made friends with Albus."

Harry's tender expression faded. "Shit. Draco. We have to stop. For the children."

"But Harry. Why? Why should we live a lie? Wouldn't our family want us to be happy?"

Harry's eyes seemed to glimmer with moisture. "I can't hurt them, Draco. But I don't want to hurt you either. I really think I love you."

Draco's breath caught that time. He bolstered his courage. "I...I...think...I might...love you, too. I can't believe it."

"Neither can I. I've never really been attracted to other men. Not much, anyway. And then suddenly at King's Cross, it was as if my eyes were opened for the first time."

"I know. That's how I feel. And I don't want it to stop. I mean, I had a pretty good life growing up-except when the Dark Lord started messing with us. But I've never been in love before. I thought that maybe I wasn't capable of it, you know? And then here you are: Harry bloody Potter."

"How do you think I feel about being in love with Draco bloody Malfoy?"

They grinned stupidly at each other until their complicated lives intruded into their thoughts and their smiles faded. "What are we going to do, Harry?"

"Well...maybe we could still see each other."

"I'm listening."

"You know. On the side."

"I have a house in London," he blurted.

Harry stared at him. Draco shrugged. "Sometimes you need to get away but still be close to things. No one uses it. We could go there."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest, folding inward. "It feels so wrong."

"I know. It's not ideal. But unless you want to come out to your wife-"

"And I don't!"

"Then... we can. Harry. Please. I don't want to stop this. I love this. I love loving you. I can't believe it, but I do. You're so...so...cute, really."

Harry laughed. "Draco Malfoy is calling me cute. Okay. This is definitely an alternate reality."

Emboldened, Draco leaned toward him. "But you are. And powerful. I don't just mean the magic either. I mean...the way you...took me. The way you...did things." Draco's cock was rising again. The cum had dried on his dick and stomach and it itched a little, but his renewed erection didn't seem to mind.

Harry's eyes suddenly smoldered. A flick of his eyes, and Draco noticed Harry's cock rising, too. Draco reached over and caressed that hefty sac with a delicate touch. "Do you want to fuck me again? I wouldn't say no."

Harry suddenly rolled on top of Draco, both hands planted on either side of his head. His groin was pressed against Draco's. "Yes, I do," he rasped and gave his hips a thrust.

It wasn't until early evening that Harry and Draco finally left the Leaky Cauldron.


[1] J.K. Rowling in an interview maintained that Snape's portrait was not put in the headmaster's office because he left his post. But then, in a more recent appearance at Carnegie Hall 2007, when she reveal Dumbledore's sexual orientation, she said that Harry had gotten Snape's portrait hung in the office. Make up your mind, Jo!



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"Cascade Effect"

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"Rendezvous"

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