More Than a Memory

22

Draco wakes to the sound of Harry's soft snoring beside him. Merlin, he never would have thought he'd miss that, but he had. He'd missed everything. He'd been terrified to come to Grimmauld. He wouldn't have blamed Harry if he'd simply slammed the door in his face. Instead, the night had gone better than he ever could have imagined.

He rolls onto his side and smiles at Harry's profile.

Harry makes a contented sound in his sleep and turns his face toward him. He's sprawled on his back, one hand on his stomach, the other flung out toward the edge of the bed. His hair is an absolute mess, and his jaw is thick with stubble. He's beautiful.

Draco reaches out a hand and traces his fingers over a rough cheek, down to his chin.

Those startlingly green eyes open, just a crack. "Hi love," Harry smiles, his eyes falling closed again. "Draco." His name is a sigh, a happy sound on Harry's lips.

"Morning," Draco repeats the motion, and Harry hums and leans into the touch. "Breakfast?"

"Five more minutes," Harry mumbles.

Draco chuckles softly and leans over to kiss his forehead. "I'm going to take a shower then."

"Mhm."

Draco gets up and takes a quick shower, and Harry is snoring again when he comes back into the bedroom. Shaking his head and smiling, he borrows a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms from a dresser drawer and makes his way downstairs to investigate the contents of the kitchen. He finds eggs and bacon in the Muggle refrigerator and soon has breakfast underway.

He hears movement upstairs, floorboards creaking, and the sound of the shower turning on.

The Muggle handheld device on the kitchen table buzzes incessantly for a long moment and Draco seriously considers smashing it, but then it stops and he goes back to ignoring it.

A knock at the front door startles him, and he has to catch the handle of the frying pan to keep it from crashing to the floor, half-cooked eggs and all. Cursing, he casts a few charms to keep the food preparation going, leaves his wand on the table, and goes to answer it.

He pulls the door open and stares at the person who stands there. The man is attractive. He's slender, like Draco, and he has light, sandy-blond hair, and clear, sky-blue eyes.

His eyes widen at the sight of him, and Draco knows exactly who he is, instinctively. He feels his lip curl, hackles going up immediately.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I—er, who are you?"

"Can I help you?" Draco asks coldly, ignoring the question.

"I was, er, I came to see..."

"He's in the shower."

"Oh."

The man's gaze travels over him, and his eyes linger on the scars on Draco's chest before going back up to his face. "You're Draco."

"And you're the placeholder Harry has no further need of," Draco says sharply, vindictively, watching in satisfaction as the man's face reddens.

"He said you could be an arsehole," he spits back.

"Guilty as charged," Draco shrugs. "Go away."

"I need to talk to Harry."

"No."

Draco slams the door in his face and walks away. He expects the man to knock again, but he doesn't. The Muggle device on the table buzzes again. He ignores it and finishes cooking the eggs and bacon.

"Morning," Harry walks into the kitchen and hugs him from behind, kissing his cheek. Draco relishes the sharp, spicy scent of his aftershave, turning around to greet him with a proper kiss before going back to breakfast.

Harry summons the loaf of bread to begin making toast beside him. He knows his place in their morning routine. He's chosen to go shirtless as well, wearing nothing but a pair of solid black joggers that hug his arse attractively.

It's all so wonderfully familiar that Draco feels his heart ache a bit, but pleasantly so. He's missed this easy domesticity with Harry more than he can put into words, or even a fully coherent thought—

The Muggle device buzzes again, and Draco watches as Harry reaches for it.

No!

The reaction doesn't really make sense. Draco doesn't know what the device is, or even what it does, but he knows he doesn't like it.

The thing lights up, and Harry's eyes widen in surprise. "Merlin," is all he says.

"What?" Draco asks.

Harry shakes his head. "Just a lot of calls and messages. I wasn't..." He reads something that makes him freeze and turn slowly to look at Draco. "He came here?"

Draco nods, holding his breath. He has no idea what to expect from Harry in this scenario. It isn't for Harry to toss the device aside and wrap him in a gentle hug, but that's what Harry does.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought I told you to stop apologizing when you've done nothing wrong," Draco tries to snap, but it comes out shaky.

"He said you were an arse to him."

"I was."

Harry laughs. "I need to talk to him. Explain. Is that okay?"

Draco nods against his shoulder.

After breakfast, he listens as Harry speaks to Aiden on the device Harry calls his "phone." They make plans to meet at a nearby Muggle coffee shop. Harry throws on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt under Sirius's leather jacket and looks so effortlessly attractive that Draco wants to throw the book he's pretending to read at his head.

Draco tries not to care that he's going. Harry sees right through him and kisses him thoroughly before he leaves.

"I'll be back in an hour," Harry smiles against his mouth. "I love you."

Draco feels his nervous stomach settle, warmth spreading through him. "I love you, too."