Harry had booked a twin room for himself and Teddy, and a family room for the three generations of Malfoys at the Royal Shakespeare Hotel in Stratford-upon-Avon. They arrived in good time and spent a lovely, if not somewhat cold, afternoon walking around the town and exploring the landmarks connected to the famous bard. The performance was an evening show at the Swan Theatre and Harry found them a quiet bistro beforehand to enjoy their pre-theatre dinner.
The show itself was remarkable though Harry quietly spent a lot of it watching Draco and Narcissa who were spell bound. It was the first time they had experienced a theatre production and the moment when Romeo climbed up to Juliet's balcony caused both of them to gasp while Juliet's death had both in tears. Unfortunately, the play's archaic language was a little lost on the boys and, after the interval, Teddy had climbed onto Harry's knee and had gone to sleep. Similarly, Scorpius had curled up against Draco and closed his eyes. Harry didn't mind, he thoroughly enjoyed himself.
Afterwards, as they walked along the bank of the River Avon towards the hotel, Narcissa said, 'why don't you two go for a drink and I'll take the boys back. They can share a room with me...'
Harry's stomach immediately knotted and he noticed Draco flush. Merlin, that left Harry and Draco with sharing a room and he couldn't quite believe Narcissa was suggesting it. He tried to reason that it was no different from sharing a dorm room as they'd done at Hogwarts, but no, this was definitely a million miles away from that, even with separate beds.
The boys sleepily agreed, dragging Narcissa away, so Harry led Draco back to 'The Dirty Duck', a pub near the theatre which was renowned for its famous visitors. They spent a contented hour looking at the photos of famous cast members which seemed to cover every inch of the walls with actors from Alan Rickman to Dame Maggie Smith and from Sir Kenneth Branagh to Ralph Fiennes. Not that Draco knew who any of them were but Harry found himself rather awestruck as they spotted actors like Gary Oldman, Helen McCrory, Imelda Staunton, Timothy Spall, Emma Thompson, Helena Bonham Carter, David Tennant and even Sir Michael Gambon, who were all pictured with the landlord or who had sent in their signed photos after strutting the boards in the Stratford theatres.
As they sat at their table, their drinks slowly dwindling down, Harry took a deep breath to ask the one question that had been bothering him. 'Draco, will you tell me what the nerve damage means for you, what it means for the future?'
'Is this you deciding whether you can take on a disabled me?'
'Draco, I can take you on whatever the situation, I just want to understand so I can be there for you. I need to you to be open with me and not hide what's going on. How often do you have to take the meds?'
'Only when I have a bad episode.' Draco sighed. 'It's hard to say it aloud, Harry, because it means admitting I've been permanently damaged by what my father and Bellatrix have done to me. And there are times when I'm so disabled by what has happened: I constantly shake with various degrees of severity; I can't grasp and control small things like a Quill and I'll never be able to catch a Snitch again, not with the combination of those two. There are times when I ache internally like I have arthritis; or when my senses play up and disorientate me. The most frustrating thing is I'm just not strong enough to do certain things, I just can't build the muscle strength. You saw the other day I could only manage half-an-hour of Quidditch.' He sighed wistfully. 'It's pretty hard, you know how I used to fly at school. I've been told it's not degenerative so I won't get worse as I age, nor will it shorten my life expectancy. But Harry, you mustn't treat me with kid gloves like some Victorian invalid with consumption. I'm quite capable, I'm still me, I'm still intelligent, I still want to satisfy my urges,' he paused, and then added, 'with you. I just can't carry you up the stairs and throw you onto the bed and the one thing I need to control constantly is how tired I get. When I'm exhausted, my symptoms worsen dramatically, as you saw when we were up in the mountains.'
'Perhaps we should get back then.' Harry smiled, 'you know, according to Mione, I gave up everything and grew old immediately, that includes always getting an early night. This is late for me. I'm very boring really, Draco.'
'I don't think so, Harry. I like you just the way you are.'
They walked slowly back to the hotel, both slightly intimidated by what lay ahead. They even took a detour, meandering through the Theatre Gardens and down to the riverbank. They were very Definitely Not Looking at Each Other by the time they pushed open the door into the hotel foyer.
'Would you like a drink in the bar before we go up?' Harry offered lamely, his heart beating wildly.
'Er...' Draco fumbled, and Harry knew the offer would only prolong the agony of the anticipation of what was coming.
However, the receptionist intervened, 'Mr Potter,' he called across from the desk. Harry went over, slightly bashfully. 'I'm afraid there's been a bit of problem with your room. We've taken the liberty of moving your things to Room 7 under the watchful eye of your mother-in-law.'
'A problem? My mother-in-law?' Harry faltered.
'Yes, she phoned down about a plumbing problem in the ensuite. I can assure you nothing was damaged. I hope you'll find your new room most satisfactory.' The receptionist pushed a key across the desk to Harry. 'And as an apology for the disruption, we've left a bottle of champagne in the room for you and your husband.' He looked at Draco who was now standing beside Harry with his eyebrow raised and his default disdainful Malfoy expression and Harry knew it was a stock reaction because he was on tenterhooks about their current situation as much as Harry was.
'I can assure you, sir,' Harry was nearly growling, 'that Mr Malfoy and I are not...'
'Come on, Harry,' Draco interrupted. 'I'm sure it will be fine.' He grabbed both the key and tugged on Harry's sleeve to march them both off to their new room.
'What? Why?' Harry blustered.
'I didn't want an argument.' Harry looked at Draco for the first time since they'd left the pub. They stopped outside of the door of Room 7 and Draco unlocked it.
Harry's heart was thumping manically.
'But...'
'But what? There was a problem, they've solved it, we've got a free bottle of champagne out of it. Just shhh!' Draco put his finger on Harry's lips and Harry had to resist the conflicting urges of withdrawing away or kissing it.
'My mother-in-law...' he asked.
'Shhh! Stop over-thinking everything.'
Harry's shoulders slumped and suddenly he felt very tired.
'Come on,' Draco said softly and he pushed open the door.
'I can't do this...'
'You can, you're a bloody Gryffindor who defeated the Dark Lord. This is just you and me and a shared bedroom. Shall we?'
Draco gently took his hand, interweaving their fingers, and Harry could feel that slight shake that Draco had spoken of. Draco led him into the room. Then suddenly pulled up short and Harry collided into Draco's back.
Harry gulped, then muttered, 'your fucking mother!'
The room was beautiful, furnishings of deep purples and dark silvery greys which framed a rather daunting king-size bed.
Draco's overnight bag sat on the end of the bed next to Harry's.
Harry took a deep breath and, choosing to ignore what confronted him, muttered, 'do you want to use the bathroom first?'
'Sure.'
As he waited, Harry toed off his boots and retrieved his toiletries and pyjama bottoms from his bag and slung the bag in the bottom of the wardrobe. He had, unfortunately, not packed a t-shirt, as he normally just slept in his bottoms and he'd not planned on anything other than being in his own bed and sharing a room with Teddy. He figured he could transfigure his shirt temporarily. And, as there wasn't really anything to do while he waited for Draco to finish, he opened the bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted to drink anything, but found he was gulping down the bubbles rather faster than anticipated as he passed the time and tried giving himself a severe talking to.
It wasn't as if he'd never shared a bed with anyone before. But, this was Draco, and he was incredibly attractive and Harry was hugely conscious that he hadn't been with anyone for a very long time, let alone a man. It was just ... well, this was actually happening and then there was that looming, frightening thought of the man-and-man sex-thing, and this was very, very new territory, and oh Shit! He debated running but Draco came out of the bathroom wearing simple black pyjamas that honestly shouldn't look as sexy as they did. And his hair was slightly ruffled and begging to be mussed up further. Harry thought he'd lost it and gathered up his stuff and practically ran into the ensuite with a barely suppressed whimper.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Draco was already sitting under the covers, leaning against the headboard and sipping his drink with just a single bedside light on beside him.
He smirked at Harry who stood there bare chested with his clothes and wash bag clutched in front of him. His nerves had got the better of him and he'd totally botched up transfiguring his shirt which was now an irredeemable mess. Luckily it wasn't his new one that Draco had given him for Christmas.
'I didn't pack a top...' he muttered feebly.
'I don't mind,' Draco smiled wickedly.
When he dropped his clothes in a pile by the bed, he didn't miss Draco's quiet groan of 'Oh Merlin!'. And he definitely saw Draco's dark and blown mercury eyes wander down his body, lingering slightly over the line of dark hair which ran down from his belly button and disappeared under his waist band. Harry was inordinately pleased that he'd started his running again, at least there was some semblance of definition showing even if it wasn't a six-pack as such. He decided, however, that perhaps it would be better if he was just Not Looking at Draco, he thought that perhaps it would be easier that way. He just got under the covers, took off his glasses and, laying on his back, pulled the duvet up to his neck. He stared at the ceiling, it was particularly interesting, if not a little blurred.
Draco sighed, put down his glass, and turned off the bedside light.
Harry felt like each breath he took was painfully constricted.
Once Draco had settled himself under the covers, Harry could tell he was lying on his side, watching him, even in the dimness of the unlit room. He could feel Draco's soft breathing as it brushed over his shoulder and neck and he could smell Draco's aftershave. He tried not to think about it too much, it was slightly overwhelming ... and irresistible.
'So,' Draco whispered. 'This is awkward, what with my mother driving us into bed together and everything...'
Harry couldn't answer, his mouth felt uncomfortably dry.
'Harry,' Draco said quietly. 'Look at me.'
Harry turned carefully onto his side towards Draco. There was enough secondary light through the curtains to be able to see that he was resting his cheek on his hand, studying him intensely.
Draco reached towards him and run a slightly shaky finger cautiously along his cheek and despite the shiver that ran across Harry's skin, he couldn't quite quell his doubts and calm himself. He felt like he couldn't breathe, torn between the urge just to ravish Draco there and then, and the fear that he was not ready and that he was downright scared to be in bed with the man. This felt all too intimate and wrong and fast. At least previously, when they'd had their Nearly Moments, it had felt like a natural move, but this felt rather too forced and abrupt.
'You're over-thinking this again, Harry. I can positively hear the thoughts whirring around your head. We won't do anything you don't want to do.'
Without warning, Draco's finger ran down Harry's bare chest and his hand slid carefully to Harry's side to gently tug him closer.
The feel of flesh against flesh made Harry hiss.
Draco sighed wistfully.
'What is it?' Harry whispered.
'My strength deserts me at the time I most need it. I can't pull you against me.'
Harry nervously shifted slightly closer and Draco's hand drew around to reach the small of his back, his fingertips flexing against Harry's skin with the clear intention that Draco wanted their bodies flush against each other. Harry's chest felt remarkably tight and heaven only knows what his insides were doing, his stomach felt like it might have moved beyond a Permanently Knotted-State and be in his mouth. However, he shifted forward again so he could feel the material of Draco's pyjamas brushing against his chest so they were nearly touching. And at the feel of Draco's hand lightly caressing his skin, Harry released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding and all caution was pushed away. He almost involuntarily reached up to gently cup Draco's face and close the last gap between them.
And finally, finally, he captured Draco's lips in a soft kiss.
And despite his pounding heart, the hesitancy quickly fell away and was replaced by a rhymical dance of lips, of mouthing, of tugging kisses, and rasping breaths.
And oh Merlin! Oh Godric! And oh Salazar! He never wanted this to end as Draco's tongue swept across his bottom lip, urging more, seeking a way in. And Harry acquiesced briefly before fighting back, wanting to explore Draco's mouth, which led to fight of probing, searching tongues which had Harry pushing against Draco, flattening against every hard plane of his body, their hands almost frenziedly exploring each other's firm bodies. All fear was lost now and Harry wondered if he'd ever be able to satiate his need for the blond man. He wanted to know every part of this wonderful man. He rolled them both over so Draco was on his back and he was on top, and the sheets were in a mess of chaos which was wrapped around them both and their legs tumbled together so it was impossible to figure one from the other as Harry dominated the other man.
'You found that Gryffindor bravery again, then,' Draco murmured huskily against his mouth and Harry pulled away, taking a deep breath as his fingers teased Draco's soft hair. He rested his forehead against Draco's, the urge to giggle overwhelming.
'Who would have thought?' he whispered with a smile. 'After all those years of fighting...'
'I've always thought it...' Draco huffed.
'No, you haven't,' Harry pecked at his lips before kissing along his jawline and moving to his neck which caused Draco to moan deeply, which in turn did wicked things to Harry which he didn't know were possible just from making someone elicit such a deeply erotic sound. 'It was too much of a mess between us.' He gently nibbled at the line of the tendon which ran from Draco's ear to his collar bone as Draco moved his head to one side to allow Harry greater access. And he moaned again as Harry sucked on his neck lightly.
'Merlin, I'm going to have to send your mother flowers for this,' Harry murmured as he found the hem of Draco's pyjama top and wrenched the shirt off over his head before kissing along his collarbone.
'Shhh! Don't talk about my mother at a time like this!'
Harry smiled against Draco's skin whose hands were running small circles on the small of Harry's back, just dipping beneath the waistband of his pyjamas.
'I've always wanted you, Harry. I've always been in love with you,'
Harry sat up, his heart thumping. He was straddling Draco and reached across to turn the bedside light on. He wanted to see Draco's face.
Draco shakily grasped Harry's arms and said, 'I've wanted you right from day one at Madame Malkin's, if not before. I explained that to you that in Confessions, that was the whole point of the book, to let you know that I love you. You were always the "Reader" whom I addressed my words to when I was writing.'
Harry was stunned, he didn't know what to say. Instead he followed the movement of his fingers as they traced lightly over the paleness of Draco's chest, along the faint silver lines that's he'd created long that beautiful porcelain skin and those other scars, those ugly words over his heart. When he felt the puckered silver ridges left by the lines that Bellatrix had carved and left behind, he felt sad, he felt guilty. 'I'm responsible for those.'
'No. No, you're not. You didn't make me lie to them, you never held the knife, I've explained this already. I am not ashamed to have those words written over my heart because it reminds me of who I am and what I have survived to get here.'
Harry bent down to kiss the scars over Draco's heart, tracing his tongue over the letters and heard Draco hiss slightly in pleasure. The blond man's hands were in his hair, scrunching it tightly, tugging him upwards. 'Merlin, Harry, gods! Kiss me!'
So, Harry did, catching his mouth in a searing kiss. And Harry felt Draco try to push against him to roll him over.
'Damn my weak muscles!' Draco sighed.
So, Harry rolled them both over so he could allow the blonde man to take control.
'May I?' Draco queried as he toyed with the waistband of Harry's pyjama bottoms, and Harry sunk his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes with a soft moan of ascent as Draco's fingertips ran over his hips, easing the material down.
*****