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Harry jumped when the papers fell in front of him, distracting him from Ron and George's banter and causing his smile to falter. He didn't know what to expect when he turned around, but he certainly hadn't expected to find Draco standing there, frowning and with a tense expression, not after their encounter at Grimmauld twenty minutes ago at most.

He had returned to Grimmauld Place via Floo Network only to find the living room empty and dark. For some reason, everything was silent, but that was fine, as he had a headache from using several Portkey jumps—or so she thought, because it hadn't bothered her before. He considered lying down on the sofa and falling asleep there, but then remembered that He had to go to the Burrow, as it was Ron's birthday and the Weasleys were throwing him a small party, which was now also a welcome home for Ginny and Harry. Feeling guilty for not wanting to go, he sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes, promising herself that he would get up soon. He didn't wonder where Draco was until the fireplace suddenly lit itself and Draco asked for the lights to be turned on.

Exhausted and with his eyes stinging from the sudden light, Harry raised his arm in greeting, speaking and not looking at him. His things were scattered around the living room and his robes were spread out on the sofa. He sighed, waiting for Draco's inevitable complaint, before calling Kreacher to gather his things and take them to the main bedroom. This time he didn't, and Harry was grateful for that without questioning why. He just wanted to get some sleep before forcing himself to take a bath and go to the Burrow. He thought about inviting Draco, but he probably wouldn't want to come, so he would have to go alone or endure his bad mood expressed in silent presence. Perhaps the best thing was simply to tell him that he didn't need to come. It was late anyway.

Aware that Draco was standing there silently watching him, Harry sighed again and opened one eye, looking at him.

"What happens now?" he asked.

"You're back," the other said coldly. "We need to talk."

Harry frowned at the indifference he didn't think he deserved, since technically he hadn't done anything yet to receive it.

"Is it important?" he asked wearily. "Because if it isn't, I'll take a bath and go to the Burrow. Ginny's already there."

Draco's frown deepened.

"You just parts way with her, can't you wait to see her?" he asked sharply, and Harry felt tiredness and irritation creeping in.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"What does it mean? If you can tell me," he replied, but Harry wasn't in the mood for arguments and word games. His head was throbbing. He thought about getting a potion for it, before glancing at Draco's expression, which seemed annoyed by his presence. The mere thought of Draco looking at Harry as if he were intruding in his own house irritated Harry immensely.

"Can't you just welcome me and be happy that I'm here?" He asked.

Draco pressed his lips together.

"Of course I'm happy. I'm happy that I'll finally have the chance to talk to you face to face after months of not hearing from you. Would it have been so difficult to let me know that your trip would be extended, or that you'd be gone for longer than usual?"

Harry snorted.

"Damn it, Draco. I'm back, aren't I? My head hurts from the Portkey, I just want to rest a bit before I do what I'm doing next. Is it too much to ask that, just this once, you don't try to bite me every time I come back? You know what? If I arrived at a bad time, I can leave, and maybe when I come back we can talk like civilized people. Or tomorrow, after you've slept and are in a better mood because of whatever's bothering you today."

"Don't you dare leave, Harry Potter. You've just arrived."

"I know, but that's what I'm going to do. I promised to go to the Burrow, and I will. At least someone there will be happy to see me."

"Of course she will," Draco replied bitterly. "I bet she'll even wag her tail for you."

"What the hell does that mean? Why don't you just say what you mean?" When Draco didn't respond, he rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he finished, throwing Floo Powder up the chimney. "I'll see you at the Burrow. There's a party. Or no, I don't need to see your disgusted expression like last time you came. Don't wait up for me. The last thing I want is to ruin the end of the night by arguing with you. And in case you forgot, it's Ron's birthday, and I want to be there for him."

Those had been his last words before stepping through the fireplace, under Draco's astonished gaze. Now, Draco was proving that this wasn't the end of the fight. It was only the beginning. Now, he was angry about whatever it was that had upset him, and also because Harry had turned his back on him and left.

The atmosphere shifted from festive to cautious, and Harry vaguely thought the party was over. Not that Harry was particularly festive himself—he was tired and dejected—but he hadn't thought Draco would want to fight again so soon or follow him to the Burrow. He wasn't ready to face him again after their encounter, not in front of all the Weasleys.

"Seriously, Draco? It's Ron's birthday, can't you just put aside whatever those papers say for today?" he asked.

Draco didn't answer at first. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He opened them and looked at him. To anyone else, he might have been reconsidering Harry's words. Harry knew he was actually reconsidering what he was going to say.

"This party seemed important to you, since you couldn't even stay a few minutes to listen to what I had to say. I considered waiting until tomorrow, but you might just pack your things and leave again. So you're going to hear what I have to say, even if everyone has to hear it, so I can be sure you not only heard my words but understood them, before you pack another suitcase and head back across the continent, leaving me with them once more."

None of the guests said a word. The music continued playing, but the laughter, the dancing, the food—everything stopped, waiting for the two of them to decide to leave or say what they had to say.

"I told you we'd discuss it tomorrow. There was no need to bother the Weasleys with our arguments."

"Our fights always have something to do with them. They always have an opinion about us. They might as well hear what I say firsthand and not just interpret what you feel I've said to you."

-You're exaggerating.

"I'm not. In fact, I think this is the most reasonable thing I've ever done. So reasonable, in fact, that I bet most of your friends and family would approve. I'm asking for a divorce, and I mean it. There will be no more tomorrow for us, Potter. Not anymore. If you don't want to argue with me, don't. When your stupid party is over, tomorrow morning after you've slept, read the papers. They're self-explanatory and won't speak to you, nor will they disturb the peace and quiet you so desperately crave at Grimmauld and which is lacking here, but which doesn't bother you here. If you have any doubts, ask Granger. She can contact me, and I'll clear things up for her. Or, if you remember how to use an owl, you can ask directly."

Harry frowned and looked down to see exactly what Draco had put there. A yellow envelope with a diary on top. He unfolded the diary. On the front page, Ginny was holding his arm. Just over a year ago, Harry had quit being an Auror and was now coaching the Quidditch team Ginny played on, the Harpies. Since then, they spent a lot of time together. They traveled at the same time. They trained together. They celebrated every Championship with their teammates. They gave interviews together. They returned to London at the same time.

Seeing them together was always as common, or even more so, than when they were teenagers and dating, so much so that people speculated whether they were still in love and this was their way of being together, despite Harry's marriage.

To Harry, it was all nonsense. To Draco, the fact that Harry didn't stop the rumors, either by putting some distance between himself and Ginevra or simply quitting, was alarming. At first, he tried talking to Harry, trying to make him understand how he felt, or convincing him to coach another team. Now, he was fed up with this nonsense about them having nothing, and he was sure that even if they didn't have it now, they would; because she was always looking at him, and Draco would just see her and they'd argue. And because it was obvious that Ginevra still looked at Potter with loving eyes, and Potter, well, Draco didn't know what he wanted anymore, other than to be away from Draco.

So that was it.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Are you upset about this?" Harry asked, holding up the diary. "I've told you dozens of times, Draco, it's not what it looks like. I don't know why they keep insisting Ginny and I are together. It's not my fault if you can't trust me."

"Don't turn this against me. I want a divorce. That's what the papers in the envelope say. I could have told you that privately at Grimmauld if you were so bothered that I interrupted Ron's birthday, if you hadn't been so desperate to escape me and rejoin your Weasleys. And by the way, I apologize for ruining your evening. Happy birthday. I'll send you the present I had planned, and an extra one, as compensation."

"Thanks," Ron replied, looking nauseous, staring at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked at the same time, opening the envelope. Sure enough, the divorce papers were there. Signed a few months ago, when Harry was supposed to return. Except he didn't; he extended his trip.

“I want a divorce,” he repeated. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. We haven’t seen each other in over five months, and here you are, off again. With her. With her family. You can’t spend a single damn day with me or at home. It seems you can’t even look at me anymore, or stay at Grimmauld, if you even need to rent a hotel near home instead of coming back, before you’re off again to Wales or wherever you go. Well, I’m not going to stop you. I’m not even going to complain this time. You can be away forever or stay with the Weasleys for the rest of your life if that’s what you fancy, because I’m filing for divorce. I’m going to spare us the drama of a separation. We each take what we want. We don’t have children. We don’t own any shared property. I won’t ask for any compensation. They’re already signed on my end, so add your heroic signature and they’ll go to the Ministry on their own, where I assure you”—he smiled wearily—“they’ll be quick to follow up.”

Harry frowned.

"Draco... this one..." he started to stand up, suddenly awake and alert "why don't we go home and talk?"

Draco couldn't help it.

Serious.

"Are we going to talk now?"

"Draco..."

"At home? Which house, Harry?"

"In Grimmauld, of course, why is that funny?"

Draco looked at him with disgust.

"Did you even notice my things were gone?" he asked. "Or didn't you just leave the living room before you left?"

"Your things?" he asked.

"My clothes, my books, my belongings in general. Did you go up to our room and see your closet as empty as mine? Did you check the kitchen and notice my favorite mug was missing? Did you go into the bathroom and see only your bottle of soap? Did you go to the garden and see how different it is now? Did you see anything of mine in the living room? Did you notice the lights were off and you had to go and turn them on, and I arrived right after you? Did you even notice I'm not wearing my ring?" he asked, and for a moment all that calmness and coldness faltered, revealing how difficult it was for Draco too.

Harry vaguely noticed the arrivals. He figured he'd gone shopping. He didn't care. He didn't even go into the bathroom; he just came home, argued with Draco, and went to the Burrow. It was Ron's birthday. Harry was never around, and the least he could do for his best friend was attend. He hadn't considered that Draco might want to be there too. He was a complete idiot.

"You don't live there anymore, Harry. Neither do I. I couldn't live like that anymore. Surrounded by all the crap you left behind. Things you didn't care about enough to miss. I couldn't live there anymore, with dozens of empty rooms, being one of those irrelevant things waiting for you to use it. I left a few weeks ago. You didn't even notice. You know why? Because you never called, never sent a fucking owl."

Harry swallowed hard.

"That's not... that's not..."

"You were supposed to call after every game this season. You promised, begrudgingly. After our fight about how you weren't telling me anything anymore. You didn't. Do you know where you were? I'm sure Ginevra can tell you. You were with her after all, and you were in the papers the day after every time. On the first front page, you were kissing her cheek. On the second, you were hugging. On the third... tell me, Harry, did you take her to a dark corner and screw her?"

"Ginny is not my lover!"

"Isn't she? What do you say, Ginevra? Are you his lover? Or are you going to tell me that you've simply been begging for the hero's love without any of the benefits that come with it?"

Ginny blushed, looking undecided about speaking or remaining silent.

“This is your chance to tell him, Ginevra.” When she remained silent, Draco sighed. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Whether she’s your mistress or not doesn’t change the fact that this marriage isn’t working anymore, and you can’t stay put long enough to fix it, but even if you did, I’m tired too. I give up. I don’t need this anymore.” He added, taking something from his pocket and tossing it to Ginny. Ginny, using her Quidditch reflexes, caught it, and when she realized what it was, she gasped. Harry gasped too, but with a horrified expression. It was his wedding ring. “There you go, Ginevra. Enjoy it. I hope that when you wear it, you’ll still be playing Quidditch for a while, before you have to see your replacement in the newspaper, only being friends with your husband. Although, if you never get pregnant, you’ll never stop working with him. Which would be a shame. Harry wants a child more than anything, didn’t you say? What difference does it make who gives it to you? I must say, I expected more morality from your family, I expected, I don't know, that you'd be the right, loving Weasleys, that you'd tell me Harry was a married man, or at least have a little shame. But of course, how foolish of me, I'm a Malfoy, and you'd rather have one of you with Harry than me. So, since we won't be family anymore, or have any close relationship, I'm going to do what I should have done from the start and tell you all to fuck off. And you" he looked at Harry, who stiffened at his gaze, looking as if he couldn't believe this was happening. "You can officially be part of the Weasley family now. You wanted to be with her, traveling all over the place, so go ahead. Nothing's stopping you. You already live with her anyway. Just get married, have red-haired children, and fuck off too."

He turned around and started to leave. Harry could see his red eyes trying not to shed a tear.

"Wait, Draco! Just wait!" he exclaimed, clumsily trying to get out of his seat.

"I'm sick of waiting, Potter. I'll never wait again. If you want someone to wait for you, marry that bitch after you sign the papers. Then her family will wait for both of you."

"I'm not getting a divorce!" he exclaimed, grabbing Draco's wrist. Draco began to writhe, trying to break free, and when he couldn't, He kicked Harry in the shin. Harry let go, letting out a yell. Draco took the opportunity to punch him in the face. At this, Harry's eyes widened, and he could see the surprise in Draco's eyes. They hadn't had a physical argument in years; it hadn't been necessary...

"Then I hope you enjoy the lawsuit from my lawyers; I'll send someone to you in the morning."

"Draco, Ginny and I aren't together anymore," he almost begged. "That ended years ago, back in school."

"That doesn't even matter to me anymore. What matters to me is that this stupid game between you and me is over. Let's stop pretending everything's okay. It's not."

"You can't just leave after this."

"Can't I? I can count the times you've left without saying goodbye, without even leaving a note. I can even count how many days we've seen each other this year. I can leave; I should have left a long time ago."

"You said you were happy for me."

"At first! I was so happy you found a job you loved! But then you were never around. My husband became just a picture on paper, always with someone else by his side. A name mentioned by others. I'm not even happy you're coming home anymore; I know we'll fight. You can say the same. I know it."

"Don't decide for me."

"Why not? You decided I would be married to a man who's never around. You didn't listen when I asked you to switch teams. Damn it, Harry, I'm not going to repeat everything I said that you didn't hear. Just sign the papers and go back to your great job, with your damn partner you claim you don't sleep with."

"I'm not going to let us get divorced! This marriage belongs to both of us, and you're not the only one who makes decisions."

Draco pressed his lips together and walked over to the Floo Network, wiping his face. Harry ran after him, but he wasn't fast enough. The moment he crossed the threshold, Draco used the chimney as if summoning the Burrow, blocking his path. Harry drew his wand to Apparate as the blond boy began to speak. He probably wasn't speaking directly to them, but with the chimney open, his voice reached them. Harry stopped and listened intently.

"I am Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. Son of Narcissa Black. In my veins flows the blood of Sirius, Walburga, Pollux, Cygnus, Phineas, and dozens of Blacks before me. Through my body flows the magic they bequeathed to me. In my mind reside the traditions and customs they have demanded of every heir. Exercising the right they granted me, from this moment forward I make my formal claim to Grimmauld Place. I, blood of your blood, magic of your magic, claim you as my own. I grew up under your laws and traditions, I know your past, and I can guide you into the future. Allow me to care for you, and I will provide heirs. I will nurture them in you, you in them, and once again they will be one."

"He's..." Percy began. "Merlin, Harry, stop him."

Bill denied it.

"He made the claim, it's the House's decision."

"What's wrong?" Hermione and Dean asked, looking at Harry, but he didn't answer. His body trembled, until something broke inside him. It was as if a thread intertwined with several others had unraveled, losing all connection between them, and releasing Harry in the process.

The fluorescent network was shut down.

Harry fell. He couldn't breathe.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, as Ron and Neville lifted Harry and carried him to the sofa.

"Malfoy claimed ownership of the Blacks."

"But it's Harry's house, even if they're married it belongs to him."

Bill denied it.

"Wizarding houses are inherited, it's true, and Harry inherited it from Sirius Black, who was the son of the previous owner, but who was also disinherited by his mother. His brother, the heir chosen by his parents, is dead. Grimmauld responded to Sirius because there was no Black in the house, and because neither Narcissa nor Bellatrix claimed it; but houses of old families like the Blacks, which tend to have strong lineages, have often seen disputes arise over them, so it allowed the right to claim the place and prove one's worth. The Blacks are, well, blood purists. If the other heir wasn't willing to renounce the house and the new heir didn't object, they simply combined their blood. With the heir dead, the house accepted the Black heir who was imposed upon it, and whom it chose as it's own heir, but it's likely that if Malfoy or his mother had made the claim earlier, Harry wouldn't have been able to live there. They are related to the Blacks by blood more closely than Harry is. Malfoy isn't magically stronger, he said so himself, but he has the blood, the magic, and the magical traditions more deeply ingrained in him than Harry. The house chose, and it chose him."

"But Harry didn't sign, they're still married."

"I'm sure Harry's marriage to Malfoy was a fortunate event for the house. The legal heir and the heir by blood married and would have heirs together. Malfoy shouldn't have even thought about claiming it, because his children would be next in line anyway. But he could, claim Grimmauld and be the beneficiary. Leave Harry as the spouse of the family head, not the head himself. Perhaps he left it that way because he himself is the Malfoy heir. In any case, now he can tell Grimmauld not to let Harry in, and Grimmauld will obey. He can even tell the house-elf not to answer Harry. He's the Head of the Family now. Harry doesn't know how the Black family head operates, but Draco does."

Everyone looked at Harry, who stood up silently.

"So he's kicked me out of Grimmauld," he muttered.

"Probably."

"It doesn't matter, Harry, you can stay here," Ginny called after several minutes of Harry just staring at the flames. "After all, we're leaving in a few days. If you're worried about your luggage, he'll probably send your things."

"You should go home," Bill advised, dismissing his sister's words. "He's upset, but if you talk, maybe you can work things out."

Fleur didn't seem to agree. She glanced at Harry, then at Ginny, and then muttered something in French, shaking her head at Bill. Nodding, Harry took some Floo Powder and started to go home, but he stayed there, staring at the fireplace.

"Harry?" asked Neville. "Are you okay?"

"I can't remember the address of Grimmauld Place," he said.

Ginny tried to take his hand, as she had so many times before. She knew Harry wouldn't refuse, because he usually did. She was one of the people he trusted, and even though she had taken advantage of that a little, she didn't think Harry would even suspect a thing.

This time, however, Harry recoiled at her touch; suddenly, his whole expression screamed distrust. Ginny stepped back, saying nothing about his reaction.

"Harry," Hermione called, approaching him, succeeding in the move Ginny had failed at. She led him to the sofa. "What's wrong?"

Harry struggled to breathe, unable to understand how everything ended up like this.

"I can't remember what it's like," he admitted. "I don't remember the room numbers. What the kitchen looks like. I can't remember where it is. I don't remember Draco's lab. Or the garden."

"Don't worry, mate. We all know the address, it's..."

Ron couldn't remember. He knew he knew, but when he tried to think about it, his mind went blank.

Harry covered his face with his hands. Despair began to overwhelm him, and he didn't know what to do.

"He must have assigned a new Secret Keeper," Hermione murmured. "He'll have to start giving out directions; none of us will be able to get in."

"This is ridiculous. It's your house. Even Malfoy isn't that vile." He told Harry, then conjured his Patronus. "Come on, Malfoy. You can't take it away from him. His godfather left it to him. you're not even divorced. I know you're upset, but this is going too far."

The patronus is gone.

And another one returned.

Harry looked at it, looked at the stag that once represented him, now a snake. And he knew what it meant. It meant that Draco had given up on them. That the paperwork was for real. That he was ready to abandon him.

"I'll send your things with Kreacher. As I said, I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm sure you'll be able to stay comfortably during your short stay."

"Draco, don't be a cold-hearted bastard. Even if you're our friend, we won't let you do this to Harry. You have no right."

"I gave him the option to sign and keep what was his. He didn't take it. If you want to say something, you're free to send me an owl or a howler, but this matter is closed. Grimmauld Place belongs to the Blacks. And I am one of them. It won't affect him at all not having it. He's never here anyway. He left me in this house, and now the house and I have left him. Now, please, continue with your party; the last thing I want is to spoil the end of your evening."

The words hit Harry hard, and he looked at the ring in his hand. How could he not have noticed that Draco didn't have his ring? How could Draco have just taken it and thrown it away as if it were nothing?

"Draco's ring."

"What?" asked Ginny.

"I need Draco's ring. The one he threw at you."

Ginny hesitated.

"Give it to me. I have to return it to him."

She handed it to him, trembling under his gaze.

"I don't think Malfoy wants it back," Percy remarked.

"If he doesn't have it, nobody will. We're still married. He's still my husband."

"Harry," Hermione tried, "he filed for divorce. Maybe..."

"No, I... I have to get him back. He has to listen to me."

"Maybe you should give him some space to think. You don't know where he is."

"It's at Grimmauld, obviously," Ron complained. "I still can't believe he took it. It was Sirius's. He knows what Sirius meant to Harry."

"It also means something to Draco," Hermione argued.

"So you agree that he should have Harry removed?"

"No! But he's right that it's his house too, and it's where he lives."

"He has his own mansion! Look, Hermione, I know you're friends, but it's Harry's house, and Harry is our best friend."

Hermione grimaced.

"We can try to claim Grimmauld. The lawyers will force them to meet," she said. "Then you can try to talk to him. If you win, he'll have to tell you where he is."

Harry nodded. See him. Yes. He just needed to see him again, talk to him.

"You can stay with me and Hermione, Harry."

Ginny seemed to react.

"Also in the Burrow."

"No," Ron replied. "I'm glad you came to celebrate my birthday, but we're going home with Harry. Save me a piece of cake."

.

The next day, an owl arrived for Harry from Theodore Nott, requesting a meeting. They agreed to meet at Ron and Hermione's apartment. Ron and Hermione didn't say anything in front of Harry, but Harry noticed them arguing in the kitchen. Hermione offered them the living room to talk things out, though she decided they would stay with him. Nott arrived on time. He looked calm and serious as always, and greeted Harry as if nothing had happened between him and Draco.

"Isn't Draco coming?" Ron asked.

"I'm afraid not. My name is Theodore Nott, I am Mr. Draco Malfoy's lawyer, and I will be his legal representative in this case"

"I know you, Nott," Harry exclaimed.

“I’ve come to deliver a new set of papers,” he replied, handing Harry another envelope. “While the subject matter remains the same, the terms changed when Draco took over Grimmauld Place. He’s willing to compensate for its monetary value so you can purchase a property of equal worth.”

"I'm not going to accept your money."

“We’re also willing to offer another property as compensation,” he said, holding up a list. “There’s even a property near Wales. We’re happy to show it to you. We think you’d like it; it’s close to your main workplace. You wouldn’t have to return to London.”

Harry glanced silently at the names on the list, completely uninterested. He just wanted to ask why Draco hadn't mentioned the place earlier.

Hermione didn't miss the fact that it was a subtle hint inviting him not to return to London.

"Of course, the property belongs to Narcissa, who is willing to relinquish it, as they have regained control of their ancestral home. Otherwise, the conditions remain the same. I assume you have already read them, but I will give you and your lawyer, and friends if you wish, a brief summary. If you wish to negotiate any of them, please feel free to interrupt. If you prefer, we can postpone this discussion until your lawyer is present."

"I'm not going to give him the fucking divorce," Harry interrupted. "I want to talk to him."

"That won't be possible. Draco is currently taking possession of Grimmauld Place and magically linking it to the land. It could take weeks, even months. I understand you'll be leaving soon, so we should finalize the agreement as quickly as possible."

Harry clenched his fists.

"Tell Draco he's a cowardly bastard, and if he thinks I'm going to sign the papers, he's crazy. Tell him I want to talk to him face to face. I want him to tell me that it's so unforgivable that he decided to sign the papers before even trying to fix things."

Theodore did not change his expression, but he put away his belongings and left the new papers on the table.

"I'll let him know I've given you the papers and I'm waiting for your feedback. Send me an owl when we can meet. Read the papers. Exchange opinions. If you have any questions, send me an owl."

"I said no..."

"I know it may take a while because you'll be going on a trip, but it can reach a third party if you notify me by owl"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I'm his lawyer, Potter. I have no right to interfere in his personal decisions. But I'll tell you one thing. Draco waited to tell you face to face. At first, he was uncertain and nervous, but you gave him enough time to feel it was the right decision. It's not for you, or your friends, to judge his courage. Not when they didn't stand up for your actions or those of your Quidditch partner. Not when they let him sink simply because you weren't around. In my opinion, we should ruin you completely, socially and financially, just as you ruined him socially and emotionally. If Draco needs a divorce to recover, it's his right to ask for it, just as it's your right to refuse. This will all get bigger, but eventually, you'll have to reach an agreement, unless you want to be married in name only. Perhaps you'll be the one to file for divorce in the end, after you've settled back into your daily life."

Harry swallowed hard.

Hermione's hand trembled visibly. She'd probably sensed this was coming. She'd already warned Harry that he was spending a lot of time away from home, and that it wasn't right for him to be spending so much time with Ginny, because it was well known that Draco didn't like her and they'd been a couple. It wasn't that she was Draco's best friend—that was Parkinson—but they got along well, and he no longer asked about Harry or talked about him when they met at the Ministry. That had set off a small alarm in her, which she shared with him, but it didn't alarm Harry, who said he'd already spoken to him about Ginny and it was all cleared up.

Now he could see how wrong he had been.

"Take your list. I won't sign anything. We'll stay married."

"I will report your words to my client," Nott replied, walking away.

"Harry," Hermione called, but he shook his head and interrupted her.

"I want to reclaim Grimmauld Place. I'm not going to give it up without a fight."

.

His journey through what Hermione called the stages of acceptance was swift and chaotic. At first, disbelief kept him clinging to the idea that Draco would return and say he wasn't sure about the paperwork anymore, that he shouldn't sign, that he'd only been angry. But as the days passed, he went from denial to anger. The anger lasted just long enough for him to notice how little his life had changed since his separation from Draco. Hermione was right; he traveled a lot, worked even more. He continued coaching his players, holding meetings with sponsors, giving interviews at the same times, and tried to keep a close eye on Hermione's progress regarding Grimmauld Place, which everyone knew belonged to Harry Potter. The lawsuit didn't go anywhere since, by right, it was Black Manor, and a Black had claimed it according to tradition, so Malfoy was now its recognized owner at the Ministry. The best they could do was appeal and, if they made progress in their case, leave the house in limbo indefinitely. Only legally. Draco would be forbidden from living in the house, but Harry would not be able to have it again, because Grimmauld had rejected him.

Harry figured that, in any case, Draco would only return to wherever he was living until the day of the party. He decided to leave it in Draco's hands and dropped the lawsuit before it became public. Anyway, he was right. Draco had changed it, cared for it, lived in it... he still thought he was a bastard for taking it away, and he was angry, but a part of him refused to take Draco out of Grimmauld, because he remembered his last words about them.

He left me in this house and now the house and I have left him.

And so, sadness arrived, with a huge amount of guilt and a great deal of alcohol. He sent apologetic owls, furious Patronuses, and the occasional love message. There was no reply of any kind, and Harry wondered if they were really over. If this was how it would end.

His relationship with Ginny cooled. Harry stopped seeing contact with her as something natural. He stopped smiling around her. It wasn't her fault that he and Draco couldn't save their marriage, he thought. It was Harry's fault. Even so, he decided not to give Draco any more excuses to make his case.

Now, Harry wasn't just avoiding Ginny and the Weasleys. He was also avoiding Draco's lawyers, who kept trying to contact him to demand the signed divorce papers. Harry was sure the only reason they weren't trying to force or threaten him was because he was Harry Potter. As angry as Draco was, he wasn't going to risk being devoured by the wizarding world. Draco wanted a quiet, fair divorce. Harry wanted to make it public, just to piss him off. He had the papers at the bottom of his travel bag. Still untouched and unread, but a constant reminder that it was all real and painful.

Thoughtfully, he took another sip of whisky. The atmosphere was festive, but Harry felt pessimistic and tired, and the conversations around him didn't help.

"Whoever sponsored the team did it to crush the Harpies, I'm telling you," a boy said to his friend, standing close to him. "Now they have fancy brooms. More practical, lighter uniforms. They didn't need any more sponsors; they invested in them like they were rolling in dough. They even bought Wood to lead them. We all knew the Harpies were going for the cup for the second year running, and then the Falcons suddenly get in their way and crush them. The Falcons! The Harpies had more sponsors than all the other teams combined, they have Weasley and Potter, three times as many fans as everyone else, and the kid who spent his life coaching them, and they still lost. Whoever sponsored the Falcons knew what they were doing."

Harry sighed at the words and grabbed another drink from the bar. The Harpies had lost to the Falmouth Falcons. It was partly Harry's fault for not focusing, but his broken relationship with Ginny, and the fact that Wood was representing the other team, certainly contributed to it. They seemed to know every one of his players, their tricks and moves. It was a dirty game, in a way. They exploited his weaknesses and used them to their advantage.

His players were angry, hurt by losing the cup.

And the song that was now the bar's motto, courtesy of the winning team, didn't help.

"We will win; but if we cannot win, we will break a few heads, and if you don't believe us, ask the Harpies."

Harry breathed heavily when one of his girls had to be stopped for trying to cast a spell on the opposing players.

Seeing the dark gray robes all around, Harry thought of Draco. Draco, who was a Falmouth Falcons fan in a way similar to Ron's with the Chudley Cannons. He had his own scarf with the logos, and he wore it every Quidditch season. Once, Harry had bought him a matching sweatshirt, and he'd worn it despite how Muggle-looking it made him.

Draco had loved it. The gray one, and the hawk on his chest.

Harry had loved him, smiling, kissing him for sitting next to him and not Ron's with the Cannons when they confronted them.

Had he watched the game? Was he happy that the Falcons won?

Had he felt satisfaction at the loss of the Harpies?

What did I think? Of course he did.

It was Draco.

And he was annoyed with him.

"Harry!" shouted Ron and Hermione, joining him at the bar.

"Sorry, mate," Ron smiled. "It was a good fight."

"Yeah, don't say that to them. They're in a bad mood," Harry exclaimed. "I don't need to fail another one of them."

"How are you, Harry?" she asked.

"Okay, why?"

"Well, you've never invited us to a post-game party before. I thought it was because of the sudden defeat and you needed emotional support. Merlin knows you haven't lost one in a while."

Harry nodded. Perhaps it was just to avoid being alone with Ginny. He wished he'd invited Draco earlier, even if Ginny said it was more comfortable among players. He wondered if he'd been as bad as she said, or if Draco had been able to charm them. He wondered how he'd spent her birthday, and whether he'd liked Harry's present, a silver and green snitch, or thrown it away.

He smiled slightly and without joy.

"I didn't want anything to be misinterpreted. I mean, the newspapers don't know yet, but if they find out, they could say a lot of things."

"You say that because... oh," Ron frowned when he saw Ginny looking at them as if she didn't know why they were there, and then looking at Harry, who wasn't looking back at her. She turned and left with some other players.

Ron and Hermione said nothing. Months had passed without any news of Draco, but Harry was still very careful not to be seen with anyone else, anyone the newspapers might speculate about. He hadn't gone to the Burrow either, as if he were subconsciously distancing himself from every place and person that had caused him to lose his husband.

They had a few drinks in silence, until Ron groaned, drawing the attention of the two people next to him.

"Oh, shit. Isn't that Malfoy?"

Harry looked up and saw him.

He was there, mingling with the Falcons and Parkinson. Immediately, Harry stood up and walked over to him. His body moved with longing and need. He wasn't the only one. He could see his friends, Ginny nearby too.

A man said something to the Slytherin, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder, and suddenly there was a chorus of "We cracked heads" instead, and Draco laughed. He laughed, and it was the first time in months that Harry had seen him laugh. He stopped, wondering if he had stopped smiling at everyone, if he had been so miserable that he had lost his smile, or if he had only stopped smiling at himself, and Draco was right to say that they deserved a divorce.

He wanted to touch him, hug him. Talk to him. He continued on his way, but Ginny was faster.

"Are you the investor? Shouldn't you be supporting the team Harry manages? He's your ex-husband." The music was loud, but Harry was close enough to hear. Her words caught the attention of a few people, who turned to watch the exchange. Some became interested and called others over, while others simply walked away. He felt a surge of anger at Ginny's intervention, hissing a curse, but contrary to what Harry expected, Draco laughed, letting that old wicked grin spread across his face.

"Ex-husband?" he repeated. "We're still married, Ginny," Draco scoffed. "Harry Potter is my husband. Everyone knows that. I haven't seen any divorce papers on my desk. Unless you know something I don't."

His words struck Harry's heart, which responded by beating with hope. He couldn't help but smile.

"You're ruining the team he's worked so hard for!"

There was a group silence.

Draco looked at her.

And he smiled enormously.

“I think it’s entirely your imagination, Ginevra. I’ve loved this team since I was a student and bought the fan tour,” he said, pulling out a photo ID. Harry never accepted those tours; the fans were annoying and noisy, and he had to put them up with him for months. Why didn’t he just use one of those for Draco?. "I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m simply enjoying the game, and I’ll continue to do so as long as they’re in the running for the Cup. Of course, I know the Harpies are famous because of their manager, my husband, as you correctly pointed out, but I have my own preferences. I always told him to coach the Hawks. They were better than dozens of teams, including the Harpies,” he added. “He didn’t, but Wood could see the potential. After all, if they can’t win…”

"We'll break some heads."

They sang and closed ranks around the blond man.

"Ignore her, blondie. She's just bitter about losing."

"What terrible losers the Harpies are."

"It's obvious she's in love with her coach."

Ginevra blushed.

Draco smiled and flashes popped up from all sides.

"Do you think so too? He always said it was my imagination."

And Harry knew it. Draco had lost. This marriage had crumbled just as his parents had predicted. He was hurt, angry. That wasn't going to stop him from getting his revenge. If he couldn't win, he was going to crack a few skulls before letting him go, and what better way than to attack the thing that had stolen his marriage?

The idiot simply repeated what his father had done for him in his second year. He bought him a Quidditch team and assembled it with the best players. Not only that, he went back to the Slytherin Hawks. He trained them using their plays. And to prevent any mistakes, he brought in someone who lived and breathed Quidditch even more than Harry. Something inside him was amused by this, but before he could say anything, Harry was pulled away by his friends before the matter could escalate.

“This isn’t the place, Harry. I’ll find out where he’s staying,” Hermione said. She probably thought Harry wanted to fight, but he didn’t. Draco’s words had given her an idea. A great, wonderful, and annoying idea. Following her lead, Harry went back to his seat. Sometime as they were leaving, he and Draco looked at each other long enough for Harry to understand what Draco was saying in the distance.

Signature.

Harry didn't reply, didn't nod, didn't shake his head. Deep down, he hoped he could change Draco's mind about their current situation, but it was impossible to reach him with the newspapers asking if the rumors about Ginny saying they'd split up were true. By the time Ron found the room and the hotel, he was simply gone.

Sighing, Harry looked at the newspaper, where Draco was laughing with the Falcons.

It was strange to see a man who was married to him, be happy without him by his side.

My husband became a picture on a piece of paper.

The words gradually began to make sense.

.

Homeless and without a cup.

With his need for training no longer so desperate, Harry allowed himself a break and bought an apartment near Ron and Hermione's house, on the Muggle side. He tried to contact Draco, but according to his husband's friends, Draco was busy with his Quidditch tour and they didn't know when he would return.

"But what can I tell you, Potter?" Parkinson mocked as she caught up with him near the Ministry. "You know how he is. You might not hear from him for months, or maybe you'll see him in the newspaper someday. Now go. I'm tempted to lock you in my dungeons and feed you weasels."

"How is he?"

"Better than ever. Anyway, it's none of your business anymore."

"We're still married."

Pansy rolled her eyes, looked as if she were about to say something, and then shook her head. She walked toward him and raised her hand, and Harry waited for the slap he surely deserved. He closed his eyes slightly, ready to receive it, and held his breath, convinced it would hurt. The blow didn't come; instead, she kicked him in the groin with the tip of her heel.

"What the hell, Parkinson?" he shouted, doubled over in pain.

"I told you that if you broke his heart, I'd break your balls. I told you it was a bad idea, I told him. I told him, 'Draco, the Weasleys and the Malfoys don't get along, they'll make you feel like shit every holiday, every birthday, you'll bite your tongue so hard not to upset Potter that you'll choke on your own blood, and he's still going to break your heart, being stupid and trusting. He's going to hurt you when he doesn't choose you, and he, you damn bastard'—she took off her handbag and started hitting him—'believed you when you said you'd always choose him. You said you'd take care of him, that you loved him, I trusted you myself. I let him marry you!'"

What she had in her bag, he didn't know, but it hurt like hell. He heard an Auror patrolling nearby stop her and look at him with sympathy, before asking if he wanted to press charges. Parkinson glared at him, ready to hit him again if he said yes.

He did not do it, however he asked to examine her bag.

"A brick, Pansy? Damn it."

"Don't call me Pansy, you bastard Potter. I've been waiting for the day you came around, you wretched man, asking about him. Then I could do this."

"You could have killed me!"

"You never die! And it's a small brick, the others were too heavy. I couldn't lighten it with magic, I needed to be ready to kick your ass with it."

Harry sighed, somewhere between amused and angry.

"How on earth did you come up with that?"

"Draco may have talked about his Muggle television programs once."

"Where the youngest son steals..."

"His mother's handbag, yes. Anyway, rot in hell. You and I were pseudo-friends thanks to Draco, and you two aren't together anymore, so I want you to go to the ends of the earth and bury yourself there before I do."

"We're still married," he said. The last thing he needed was for someone to hear they were having problems. "I just need to know if he's okay. If he's really okay."

"The starving, drunken phase was ages ago, Potter. He's been living like this for almost three years, saying they'd find a way to balance things out sooner or later. I begged him to leave you a long time ago, and he finally listened. How do you think he felt when you didn't show up for important dates like his birthday or your anniversary? How do you think he felt when you only slept with him and then he woke up and you were gone? How do you think he felt when he saw the newspapers with you and your ex-girlfriend on the front page? You destroyed him. You tortured him, and you didn't even care."

"He..."

"He wanted you to succeed. He wanted you to focus solely on your dreams. You'd already been through a lot just dating him, let alone marrying him, he said. He didn't want to get in your way, disappoint you, or lose you. He tried to trust you. Salazar knows how much he defended you to us, and you broke his heart. So the least you can do for him is support his decision this time. And if that decision means walking away from you, after months of you walking away from him, the least you can do is respect his decision and walk away, so that he can, if not be the same as before, at least be better."

"I can't let him go. Pansy. I miss him."

"Well, isn't this a wonderful turn of events? Harry Potter wants to see his husband. He sends him gifts, Patronuses, and letters. It's a shame it's too late."

The words left Harry speechless. So much so that he couldn't reply, and she turned and left.

.

Harry's birthday came and went. Last year, Draco had sent him a pair of flying gloves, which Harry still had. This year, Draco appeared in the diary a few days later, alongside Astoria Greengrass. They were leaving a restaurant, arm in arm, laughing. At some point, she kissed Draco on the cheek, and he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Oh, we're just friends," she declared in an interview. "It was my birthday and he invited me to dinner. We usually go every year with the others, but this year it was just him and me who were free."

Draco simply refused to give interviews. He told them, in his own words, to go to hell.

No one denied or confirmed anything, but jealousy gnawed at Harry whenever they appeared together on more occasions, even when they were with Parkinson and Zabini, or Nott or Pucey. The two of them seemed so normal together, so simple, perfect, meant to be.

"No. We're still married," Harry replied to every reporter who caught him and asked about the two of them. "I still love him, if that's what you want to know, and no, I haven't signed any divorce papers or I'm being unfaithful to him with a coworker or anyone else."

-We've noticed he haven't been wearing his ring in recent weeks, could you give us any comment?

-I know he doesn't have it. I know why. That's fine. I also know where it is.

The Daily Prophet speculated about a rift between Harry and Draco, with Draco choosing Astoria, respectively, and how Harry was refusing to sign the divorce papers. The Quibbler spoke of the powerful love Harry felt for Draco and vice versa, and how their marriage was flourishing. The Magic Times reported on how Malfoy had likely competed with Harry through the Hawks and how Harry was upset at being defeated. All three offered their opinions on why they were estranged from each other and no longer appeared together in public, especially with Draco on tour. The situation reached the point where Zabini appeared one day giving an interview to ask the media to stop harassing them and their traveling companion.

“They’re still married,” he stated. “Draco is living alone after a year shut up at home, with his husband away coaching a Quidditch team. It seems they’ve forgotten, but he was one of the most sociable Slytherins of our generation, and after his marriage, he was absent.” After a few questions, he nodded. “Potter has been invited before, but he hasn’t attended any of our public gatherings, that’s all. Everyone knows the Weasleys and the Malfoys haven’t exactly been close either, and that’s why Draco doesn’t attend their events. They’re simply making a fuss about something they didn’t even notice back then.”

Harry sighed when he read that. Perhaps Draco wasn't the only one who preferred to avoid each other's friendships.

"No, Ginny and I don't have, nor will we ever have, anything. I'm married," he clarified a week after the Zabini interview. "I think you all know, it was the wedding of the century. Everyone had an opinion about it. Many disagreed. I got married anyway, and I'll stay married."

Ginny was also forced to respond when she was caught leaving her brothers' shop.

Harry and I have nothing going on. He and Malfoy are married.

"You seemed very close, with frequent physical contact. We've noticed you've lost that camaraderie you used to show. Did Mr. Malfoy discover them, and is Harry Potter apologizing to Mr. Malfoy?"

"We didn't lose contact, nor were we in a relationship during our travels," she replied, but probably no one believed her, not even herself.

.

It was probably childish, but Harry burned the divorce papers over and over again. It was both amusing and frustrating when they reassembled themselves. He soaked them, shredded them, tore them, and stained them with ink. He devised new ways to get rid of them, like using basilisk venom or throwing them off a cliff. Once, he left them in the Muggle world and went home, and they returned to wherever he Apparated and perched beside him. Once, he even crumpled them up and played with them with a stray dog, like they were a ball.

They always returned to normal, with Draco's signature, beautiful and elegant, embedded in each one. Finally, after the twenty-seventh attempt at how to get rid of a divorce paper you were sick of seeing, Harry took parchment and a pen and wrote.

I'm giving you back the papers. I'm not going to sign them. I'm truly sorry. I love you. Please give me another chance. I know we can fix this. It's our anniversary, shall we meet at our usual Muggle café at 7:00 pm? Let's talk about it. About how to make things right. Let's just talk one more time.

Draco didn't respond. He didn't attend either.

Harry dressed as nicely as he could and waited for three hours, until the café closed. When it closed, Harry went home and placed a platinum bracelet in an envelope. He sent it to Draco.

Happy anniversary , he wrote. This is your present this year. I bought it at a market in Wales. I saw it and thought of you, and since I didn't get you a present on time last year, I bought it seven months early and kept it until today, just in case I didn't get anything better. I didn't, but I was probably angry or drunk, trying to burn the papers you sent me.

He received the papers back. The bracelet, however, was not returned, so Harry smiled.

Now, he had to admit there was a catch. He'd been inspired by the papers when he enchanted the bracelet before sending it. Draco had probably tried it on—he was vain, after all—and now he was cursing Harry.

He laughed, thinking how he was probably trying to take it off so it would rest on his hand again; but wherever he was, the bracelet would go, and with him, and Harry could go with him whenever he wanted.

He thought it was a good and innocent revenge.

Especially because it said, "The one and only husband of Harry Potter."

Come on Draco, say you want a divorce using that, he thought.

.

They met again at the Quidditch final. All the teams were invited to the celebration, and Harry attended as the Harpies' coach, while Draco went with the Falcons, who finished in second place. They didn't win the Cup, but it was a huge improvement over last year. Draco was surely drunk with happiness.

They kept their distance. In fact, Draco made a point of avoiding him. However, they were close when Wood left to give a speech, leaving him alone. When Draco went after a waiter to get another drink, Harry surprised him and dragged him to the bathroom, despite his loud protests.

"You didn't go to the restaurant," he complained when they were alone.

"There was no reason for it."

"It was our anniversary."

"That didn't stop you from forgetting it the previous year."

Harry gritted his teeth.

"Draco... you don't have to be so difficult, just listen. I'm sorry..."

"I have heard your laments in your patronus, I have read them in your letters."

"You didn't answer any of them."

Draco sighed.

"Listen, Potter. I'm tired of this. We tried to make it work, it didn't. Let's end it all. Sign the papers. I just want it all to be over. I'm tired of being angry and sad. I just want to find something new to love and start over."

Harry felt his heart ache. Lately, it was like this all the time. Time was passing, and he couldn't convince Draco to come back to him. At this rate, he'd sign the papers just to stop feeling the pain of rejection over and over again.

However, the thought that Draco had been doing it for over a year forced him to endure it. It was self-punishment, though he didn't know if it was for himself alone or for Draco as well.

"I'm not going to sign them. I don't want to. I want you back. I want those days when we were madly in love, when we fought and ended up in bed. I want to kiss you and hold you. Watch you laugh. I'm sorry for hurting you. For not seeing how much I neglected you. For not seeing how much I needed you and how much I hurt you."

Draco seemed unable to hide his pain, probably due to the alcohol.

"Go to hell," he said. "You left. You took those happy days away and lessened my doubts and fears. I don't want to live like this. Fearing that something is real or not. Fearing that I might anger you with a few words. Bitter because you're gone again and I don't know if you'll even be alive until the next newspaper article. I don't want to. I'm so relieved that it no longer matters whether you're cheating on me with Ginevra or not, because we're getting a divorce. And then I won't torture myself wondering what I did wrong that you never called. Please, sign the papers. If you love me as much as you say, let me go."

Harry stubbornly denied it.

"I can't let you go. I love you. I never cheated on you. I never would. I swear. I swear. You have to believe me. Please... Do you want me to quit? I will. I'll do it if it makes you come back to me."

He cornered him against the wall and kissed him hard, hearing his initial surprise. He felt the thrust his partner gave, but refused to pull away; instead, he pressed him even tighter, until Draco couldn't move. He thought Draco would bite his tongue or lips in revenge, but surprisingly, he let him. He let Harry invade his mouth, and trembled in his arms, needy. Convinced he wouldn't escape, Harry lifted him against the wall and began thrusting firmly and repeatedly, as if he were making love to him. As they both grew harder and harder, kisses were no longer enough, and it wasn't long before he turned Draco against the wall, pulled down his clothes, and thrust inside. It had been so long—how could he have lived without this?

“Har—” Draco tried to speak, but Harry wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t let this turn into a battle again. Usually, Draco told him when to move, but by now, Harry was an expert at reading Draco’s signals that he was ready for Harry to push. As soon as he saw his back arch toward him, he began to rock over him. Once he was in, he never pulled out, just thrusting, pushing deeper, swallowing Draco’s moans into his mouth. Giving him air with his own moans. It was quiet in a way. Their mouths swallowed each other’s cries, their hands reached for each other as if they needed to hold on, and Harry only pulled back enough for both of them to breathe and kiss the body trapped between his own.

"Draco, Draco...Merlin, I love you," he confessed, kissing the skin nearby—shoulder, neck, nape... "Don't leave me alone. Don't go again."

This was the moment when Draco would have responded in kind. He didn't. Instead, Draco pressed his lips together, as if swallowing his tears and his pain. Perhaps it was because he had been doing this for so long that he could no longer control himself. Feeling guilt wash over him, Harry loosened his grip and kissed his neck gently.

They've done this before. Covering everything up with sex.

It wasn't ideal, but it was better than being apart. Sealing the bathroom door with a spell, Harry made love to him hard, firmly against the wall, his lips and hands intertwined whenever he could. It was needy, wild. When Draco come, it was as if he could do nothing but try to breathe. He looked like he was about to collapse, so Harry held him up as best he could, because he himself wanted to fall to the floor.

"Draco... come home with me. Let me go back to you. Even when we fought, Grimmauld was my home, because you were there. I can't, I need to... I feel alive when I fly. I love it when we win, but nothing makes sense since you've been gone. I can't bear it anymore. Take me home, to your side, where I belong."

Draco began to cry. He made painful, broken sounds and collapsed to the floor, sitting down and burying his face in his hands. Harry did the same. He sank down, not caring about his clothes, and hugged him tightly, refusing to let go, because he dreaded the moment he would have to.

Draco's pain was so raw it overwhelmed him. Harry gently cupped his face this time and kissed him, amidst tears and words left unsaid.

"Will we still be married?" Harry asked, once they had both calmed down and dressed properly. Someone had probably already tried to break in and they were speculating about what they were up to, but it didn't matter. What mattered was what they would do now, which Harry knew deep down wasn't to walk out together holding hands.

"I don't know, but you should keep coaching your team. You love teaching."

"Draco, I didn't cheat on you with Ginny. I never did, and I never will. I miss you."

"I believe you," Draco replied, but he didn't stay, and that broke Harry's heart.

.

With the end of the Quidditch season, all that remained was to begin preparations for the next. However, Harry wasn't concerned with that. Instead, he gathered up every old newspaper he could find and carefully examined the photographs. He could see what Draco saw. He could understand how the speculation began to consume him. He could understand why he switched to survival mode before he completely broke down.

He studied every word he could remember, every conversation with Draco and Ginny. Every argument.

Finally, near Hermione's birthday, he decided he would leave his current team and apply to coach the Wasps. It was a mixed team, where he didn't know anyone. Ginny, the main source of conflict between him and Draco, wasn't on the team. Or perhaps he would ask the Headmistress of Hogwarts for a job. Draco was right. He loved teaching.

He told the girls, who asked if he was leaving them because they lost.

"Oh, no. I just wish I had a less stressful job. A job closer to home."

"That's right. His husband. he's never brought him with him. I heard they're separating. It must have been hard for him to see him so little."

"And being surrounded by girls," one of them laughed. "He didn't seem to be our fan last time. Ginny said he was with the Hawks."

"Yes," Harry smiled. "he's always liked them. They suit her. He has grey eyes and loves hunting birds."

"I'm sorry that your work affected your personal life so much, to the point of being about to get divorced," said another.

“No, we’re staying married,” Harry declared, eyeing Ginny warily, as if asking if she’d heard it from him or missed another article in the Daily Prophet. “It’s been a difficult few months for both of us. I’d like to put things right.”

Most of the girls wished him luck. Ginny wasn't one of them. In fact, she kept quiet and stayed in her room for the rest of the night. In the past, Harry would have gone to see what was wrong. This time, he went to his room and packed his bags. He also wrote a letter to Hermione. A week later, he announced at a press conference that he was formally leaving the Harpies.

When someone asked what Draco thought about it, Harry shrugged and smiled.

"Well, I hope he can handle a Harry Potter with a lot of free time. Maybe now I can go to some friends' get-togethers and sit in a corner staring at them, or take him on a romantic trip to France."

Many laughed, others took notes. Harry patiently answered everyone who thought to ask about the team's fate, and then went home to rest, thinking about the brown-eyed, black-haired boy staring at him without asking anything.

.

The next time he saw Draco was at an art exhibition at Dean's. He hadn't seen him for almost two months and was very happy to see him. Draco looked healthier and happier. He had let his hair grow out and had gone back to wearing the formal, elegant, and mostly dark clothes that he liked and that looked quite jarring amidst the simple, casual attire of Harry and his friends. Harry loved the way he looked. Like he looked himself, dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, after so long of dressing like a proper Quidditch manager. When he saw him, he smiled and waved, and Draco seemed to hesitate before waving back. Glad not to be ignored, Harry walked over to him, and Draco blinked in surprise, looking around. Seeing only paintings hanging on the walls, he seemed relieved and walked over as well.

"Hi. It's been a while, how have you been?"

"I heard you quit," Draco replied, ignoring Harry's question. Harry let it go and was relieved that Malfoy wasn't running away from him.

-I know you did it, you were there. I saw you. You can't enchant the bracelet with glamour.

Draco didn't try to deny it. He just nodded, admitting that he had tried, after all.

"Which is very inconvenient when I want to go unnoticed."

"The inscription isn't that visible," Harry laughed.

Draco raised an eyebrow, and then shook his head.

"What do you plan to do now?" he asked. Harry shrugged. Something had changed with sex. Harry could feel it, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was just hard to tell someone you'd slept with and loved to go to hell, after confessing you were tired of everything, even fighting, and who had then held you when you cried and cried with you.

Harry played with his hand; he desperately wanted to reach out and place his hand on the other man's face before looking at him.

They stared at each other for dozens of seconds, before Draco blushed and looked with fake interest at a painting.

Harry cleared his throat and did the same.

"I think I'll go to Hogwarts. It's still a demanding job, with so many children in the castle, but they allow spouses to visit and stay with their partners. Plus, there are free periods and not much traveling. There aren't many young people on staff other than Neville, and I don't know if that really counts as a risk of being seduced—you know, plants are his passion, and he's really not my type. Too much of a Gryffindor for me," he joked.

Draco laughed.

He laughed, and Harry smiled broadly as he looked at him. He wanted to make him laugh. To hug him. He held back.

"What about the students? There must be some handsome young ones around here."

The Gryffindor could see the insecurity in the other's words, and his heart beat with hope, knowing that he could still feel jealousy towards him.

"That would be illegal and McGonagall would put a spell on my balls."

"That's true."

"Draco..." Harry began, a little nervously, "Would you like to come to Hogwarts with me? I have to wait until next school year to apply, but..."

Draco blinked in surprise.

"Go with you?"

"Yes, I mean, we're still married. It wouldn't be a problem if you were there. I asked. If you need to go out frequently, we could apply for a private fireplace. I've been thinking, and I realized that I was so focused on leading my team to victory in the Cup that I stopped seeing everything else. I've seen my mistake, so please, let's try again. This time, I'll look for a job I enjoy, but I'd like you by my side. Come with me to Hogwarts, please. I know you don't much like teaching, but you could work as the Potions Professor. You're very fond of them. Or you could work remotely. Stay in the dormitories, modifying them to create a space for yourself."

Draco seemed shocked.

He denied it.

Harry inhaled.

" you need something specific, we could ask Professor McGonagall."

"Harry, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. In fact, I'm doing..."

"Draco," someone called, almost scolding. Draco tensed and looked towards where the voice came from.

"Pansy," Harry greeted her when he saw her, and she looked at him apathetically, ignoring the greeting.

"Potter. I've got it with me, if I need to use it," she warned. "Do I need it?"

"What have you brought, Pansy?" Draco asked.

"No, you don't need it," Harry replied.

"Okay. Draco, Astoria is looking for you," she said, ignoring the dark-haired man. "Let's go."

He took his hand and began to drag him away.

"See you later," the blond man said softly.

"Of course," Harry replied gently. "You know, I'll be waiting for your answer."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, but let it go. When Draco turned around, she glanced sideways at Harry and raised her bag with a threatening look.

"I'm not going to hurt him!" he shouted, louder than he should have been in a public place.

“That’s what you think,” she replied, and Draco glanced between them, a little lost, but followed the girl. At home, Harry allowed himself to think about their brief encounter. About how the divorce and the paperwork hadn’t been mentioned, about how for a moment they seemed to be who they used to be.

Suddenly, before going to sleep, he noticed that he hadn't asked what Draco was doing these days.

.

Draco was working as a Healer's assistant.

During his marriage, Draco worked in finance and banking, in a department of the Ministry. He often said it was boring, but it was what he knew how to do. Now he was learning magical magic. He seemed very busy and hardly slept; he was a novice, a little older than the age at which recent Hogwarts graduates usually began their training, but he seemed focused and enthusiastic.

Harry realized it purely by chance, when he found him studying in the cafeteria, which was probably—he wasn't sure now—near Grimmauld. Harry only went there to feel sad and despondent, without anyone blaming him for his situation or pitying him. He least expected to find him, but when he did, he felt happily sad.

"Draco," he greeted, approaching.

Draco, who was drinking his coffee, jumped.

"Harry!" he shouted, instinctively hiding his papers.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning slightly when he saw the books on the table. Every time a Muggle approached, the ones he wasn't using seemed to change their appearance. Draco pressed his lips together, and Harry knew he wanted to tell him he didn't care, because he was divorcing him. He decided to interrupt him before he could use the phrase. It was common knowledge that Draco would say they were divorcing, while Harry would say they were still married. Harry had to admit, deep down, that he was beginning to think they were playing games.

It's like a dance of dragons, Luna observed, you don't know if they're going to devour each other or mate, and that's what makes it exciting.

"You know I'll find out, right?" Harry asked, smiling and taking a seat opposite him. "I have connections, I have an invisibility cloak, and I know where you live."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"No, you don't know," he replied, and Harry laughed.

"Well, I don't know. But I can stalk you for a whole month, or you can tell me what you're doing."

The Slytherin sighed.

"I'm studying. I'm a healer's assistant. I want to level up, so I'm studying for the healer apprentice exam. You know, going from giving out potions people ask for to handling simple cases."

Harry blinked.

"That's incredible!"

"Do you think so?" the blond man asked suspiciously.

"Of course. You always said your job was boring. I bet this is better."

"It will take me four years to finish. People my age are already finishing their studies."

"What does it matter if you're a little older than others? You don't even look it."

A slight blush crept across Draco's face, and Harry caught it in his eyes. He remembered Draco's initial blushes. These were more demure, more elegant, and less embarrassed, but there was still a hint of shyness about openly showing how Harry's words still affected him.

"Do you need help?" Harry asked.

Draco denied it.

"I have to memorize these books. There's nothing you can do for me."

"I could read them and pass on my long memoirs to you. It would be like reading a book without actually reading it."

"That would be confusing. And checking your memory would take hours depending on how many books you read."

"I could make you cards. I'm good at them."

Draco stared at him for a few minutes, Harry returned his gaze.

"What's happening?"

“They might not want a former Death Eater treating them,” he admitted. “I’m a little scared it won’t be worth it. My family has been financially sound for generations, and my fortune backs it up, but they’re more likely to think of torture than health when my name is mentioned.”

Harry blinked as if he hadn't thought of it, then shook his head as if it wasn't possible.

"Nonsense. If you don't have any patients, I'll make a special request. I'm an expert at going to St. Mungo's. You have a lot of patience and perseverance in what matters to you. You'll be fine. And come on, who wouldn't want to be treated by Harry Potter's personal healer and husband?"

Draco could have been angry at the comment, given that they still had divorce papers pending. He could have said he didn't want his help. He didn't; he just smiled as if he couldn't understand Harry and was still grateful.

"You're an idiot, but thanks."

Harry smiled.

"I'll help you. Give me a book. I'll read for you. Actually, if you don't want cards, there are highlighters. They come in different colors. I could go get them."

"And what about marking up books?"

Harry laughed.

"Yes. It doesn't hurt them. You like to categorize. We could have a code for the use of each color. Aren't they yours?"

"Yeah."

"Lend me some. While you read one, I'll try to get some useful information from another."

"That's a lot of books, Harry."

"I have a lot of free time. Did I mention I'm unemployed?"

Draco nodded, doubtfully.

"If that's what you want..."

Yes, I'll go get a coffee for me and one for you."

"I want one..."

Hazelnut essence, yes. Cold. With whipped cream and melted chocolate on top."

"Yeah."

"I'll go order them. I'll also go buy some at the nearby stationery store. Don't go. Please," he pleaded, his eyes filled with uncertainty, and turned to walk away.

He didn't leave. Harry hurried back, but it was still a great relief when he saw him still sitting at his table, staring back towards the entrance when he arrived.

He read with Draco for hours. He'd never particularly enjoyed studying, but he wanted to help him. At some point, the cafeteria girl asked if they'd like something to eat. Harry ordered a chicken sandwich and orange juice for both of them and paid. A few hours later, the silence caught his attention. Draco had fallen asleep.

Harry smiled.

He kissed his forehead.

When the girl from the cafe asked if they were dating, Harry smiled.

"Oh, actually we're married."

"Really? You look at each other like you've just started dating. How long have they been together?"

Harry smiled again.

"To be sure, I don't know. I always forget anniversaries."

"I bet it bothers him a lot."

"You have no idea."

He gathered Draco's books and put them in his bag. He knew they couldn't stay there forever, but he wished they could. Finally, he woke Draco and sent him home. Before he left, he gave him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Oh, I... Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked, embarrassed that he had fallen into the routine of his goodbyes at the beginning of his marriage; now he feared that Draco might simply go home and not return.

"Don't you have to go somewhere? I wouldn't want to interrupt your plans," Draco replied gently, slightly embarrassed.

"Of course not, I would leave anything to be here."

"I'll be here at three in the afternoon," Draco replied. "My shift ends at that time."

Harry nodded.

"See you at three!" he exclaimed with a smile. Hope shone through his green eyes.

"Three," Draco confirmed and walked away. Harry watched him disappear, wanting to follow him to find out where Grimmauld was. He held back.

They were both there the next day.

"Have you thought about what I said, about going to Hogwarts with me?" Harry asked, staring a little too intently at his French fries.

Draco nodded.

"Yeah."

"And what have you decided?" he asked, her gaze anxious and fixed on him.

-I've decided not to go. I'll stay in Grimmauld.

Harry nodded.

"I suppose I could go home every day. I'll talk to the director. Maybe she'll adjust my salary, but I don't think it's non-negotiable."

"Harry... it's not necessary, we..."

"We're still married," he replied. "Now, I have a question about the importance of this paragraph."

Draco wanted to debate, Harry knew it, but he sighed and nodded before explaining to him and to himself. When the tense moment passed, Harry smiled.

"I love you," he said as he said goodbye after nine days, kissing his cheek. "I wish you could drop the divorce."

"Harry..."

"I know we're playing games, trying to get each other to give in. I'll keep waiting. I won't bring it up again, so please come back tomorrow."

Draco hesitated, but the next day he was back at the café. Harry didn't bring it up again, but he still said goodbye, kissing Draco's cheek and leaving before Draco could tell him to stop.

.

It was probably because he'd lived a few quiet months and saw Draco almost every day that Harry felt happier and more rested. He was going to Hogwarts soon, so he got tips from the Healing students to help him with the professors and exams, and he prepared his own classes and materials, using his time in the cafeteria. A few days before he left, the Weasleys threw him a going-away party. Harry had invited Draco, who looked at him as if he couldn't understand why he'd been invited, after his last attendance at one, and unaware that it had also been Harry's last.

"Not even when we were married did he go," the blond man declared incredulously.

"Things could be different from now on."

"Nobody wants me there, Harry. They didn't want me when we were married, they certainly won't now."

"They don't have to do it, I want you to be there. Besides, Fleur, Luna, and Dean all like you. Hermione likes your sharp mind; she says it's like finding life on the planet called men."

Draco smiled slightly.

Harry smiled broadly.

"I told the hosts to go to hell."

"After months of not doing it, it was very kind of you to wait until I was there to do it. I can say in your defense that it was my fault."

"I said that her daughter was a slut, your lover, I told her that she begged for your love like a bitch."

"I don't remember you saying it that way."

"I don't remember much either; I was upset, but that's what I thought. Anyway, we're in the process of getting a divorce. I asked you to in front of them."

"We're not divorced yet."

"I stole your house. Well, it wasn't exactly a robbery, but I took it from you right in front of them. Weasley called me a cold-hearted bastard for it."

"I know you were upset. And well, you're right to say you had blood ties and you lived there for a year without me."

You're being too accommodating. On other days you would have told me to go to hell for telling those poor people to go to hell."

"Sometimes, not always, I like to please you and not fight."

"I don't know why, we're not friends."

"I'm not sure we aren't. We see each other every day. We talk about things."

"We're talking about books on medimagic, mostly."

"Quidditch, too."

"Everything except our failed marriage."

"We had coffee together. And it didn't fail, we're still married."

"I bought a team to beat yours. Because I felt like all your work this year was for nothing. And because I wanted to wipe the floor with Weaselette's red hair. I figured by now you'd be planning to send Granger to punch me in the nose."

"I'm sure Parkinson's would have come after me. Besides, I sleep better now, I work less. I think you take better care of my health than I do myself."

"You're unemployed."

"And we'll both be working on something we enjoy. I think it's a good change."

Draco grimaced.

"What makes you happy makes me happy because I love you," Harry insisted. "I've been doing what I love for a few years now, I think it's your turn to have what you want."

"I wish you'd stop saying that. Everyone's talking about how much the hero is promoting his love for me these days, and I'm filing for divorce. It makes me feel like an idiot."

And it gave him hope, and it was obvious that Draco wanted to eliminate him.

"You are a bit of an idiot and you know it, but Hermione says I was a complete idiot too."

"She's handling the press, isn't she?"

Harry smiled.

"I also threatened heads. You can mention it, suspect it, but never confirm that we are getting a divorce, or I will come after your heads."

Draco looked at him seriously, not saying that he was the hero and wouldn't be. Instead, he looked at him as if he had always known that something about him was dark and manipulative. And that if he made a wrong move, he himself could fall.

"You still haven't asked for your ring back," Harry said, lightening the mood.

"I gave it to your ex-girlfriend, in case you've forgotten. There's no way I'm asking for it back. It would be embarrassing and pointless, since you won't be my husband anymore. Although I could sell it, I think I'd become just as rich as I am now, but only in a day."

"You don't have to ask. I've had it all this time; I can give it to you whenever you want. Or we could buy a different one together. You like to shop."

"We're getting a divorce. We won't be going shopping together. It ruins the idea of, you know, the separation."

Wrong, we're reconciling, we're on a date right now and you're refusing to go on another one."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Is that what you tell yourself? A) It's not a date and B) It's unbelievable that I can't say I did more things to annoy you. I've lost my touch."

Harry smiled at him.

Studying to be a healer is hard, it takes up a lot of your time."

"It's demanding," Draco stated.

"So, you're going? You can say whatever you want, bother whoever you want. I'm not going to stop you."

Draco denied it.

"No. I'm going to visit Astoria. Pansy and Theo are coming too. Blaise said he can't make it. We're going to get drunk while we talk about Daphne and her French boyfriend who doesn't want her living in their mansion with them when they get married. We'll probably criticize you too, and we'll talk about how you still haven't signed the papers while Theo keeps charging me for his legal services and how my medimagic is going."

Harry sighed.

"I'm not going to convince you, am I?"

"I'm afraid I'd rather drink than be at the Weasleys'. But you already knew that."

Harry nodded, vaguely noticing that lately they were reading less and talking more.

"Are they going to a bar?"

"Pansy probably likes to get drunk and then have sex. She said Theo is nice, but it was like incest. They're only together when necessary."

"Forget about Pansy and Theo. They'll get married someday, they're just being stubborn. Let's talk about you, are you going to flirt with guys?"

"Maybe. It's none of your business. Because, as we've said, we were separating and now we're... I don't know... you're complicating this divorce."

Harry sighed.

"Are you going home with them?" he asked in a doubtful voice.

-I don't know. Have you been to any guys' houses lately?

"No. But I can live for months without sex. When we were at Hogwarts, I went a long time without even touching myself. It was strange, with Ron and Hermione so close."

He'd barely finished speaking when he regretted it, because they both knew he'd been in love with Ginny back then and had probably been thinking about her. Damn it, the last thing he wanted was for the conversation to turn to her or for Draco to distance himself.

"During my travels, however, I was able to touch myself in my room. I used to imagine myself in your mouth, or inside you. I remembered the days of angry sex, when you're furious, sex is rough and passionate. As if you hated giving me pleasure, but at the same time wanted me to drown in you."

Draco blushed.

"We're in public. Shut your mouth."

"You made me a little addicted to you. During the months we didn't have sex, my hand and I became very good friends. We often dreamed about you. Tell me, Draco, did you and your hand have fun together?"

Draco covered his face.

"Go to hell," he muttered, ashamed.

Harry laughed.

Then he stopped smiling.

"Draco, while I was gone, was there anyone else?"

Draco frowned.

"I never deceived you, if that's what you think. I took vows, Potter."

"Me too, but I was never there. I wouldn't have blamed you."

"You would have done it."

Harry sighed.

"Yes, I would have done it."

"Did you never sleep with anyone else?" Draco asked in a low voice. "Not even when you celebrated your victories?"

No. Never. I made sure not to get drunk too; you didn't want me crossing the border drunk and horny, I was going to split myself in two."

Draco smiled slightly.

"And speaking of getting drunk, if you get really drunk you'll need someone to look after you; you get a bit demanding. Come over to my apartment if you want, I'll give you the address." Harry invited him, offering a piece of paper he'd been dying to give away for days.

"I've spent days drunk alone with Kreacher. Sometimes Pansy comes and takes care of me."

"You don't have to come, but if you want to, come. Whenever you want. When I'm not here, I'm with Teddy at home, working on my curriculum. You can just drop by or come by Floo. It has a Fidelius. If I'm not here, just stay."

"I'm not sure. I mean..."

"Draco, do it. I need to know you're okay. I still worry about you."

Draco looked uncertainly at the paper.

"Oh. Fine. If I don't end up with one of the boys, I'll go," Draco replied. "But now I feel guilty that you don't know where your old house is."

"Don't feel guilty, I'm sure you'll tell me someday. Are you still seeing Teddy, by the way?"

-" course, he's my cousin."

"I haven't seen you around Andromeda's house."

"Andy is helping me avoid you. She said she can understand why I don't want to see you, especially not with Teddy."

"Did she say that?"

"Yes. She said she was surprised it wasn't before."

"I understand."

"She congratulated me on my maturity in the matter."

Harry laughed.

"You handled it correctly, yes," he praised. "We definitely don't fight anymore."

Draco smiled slightly.

"I know. I'm a genius hiding in the crowd," Draco replied, returning his focus to the book in front of him and his coffee.

.

Everyone was at the party, and thank Merlin, no one had asked about his divorce, or Harry would have to explain how he was trying to win his husband back through books on medimagic, not-so-innocent flirting, coffee, and now, little threats.

The night was nearing its end when, drunk, Ginny come through the chimney.

Ron tensed up.

"Ginny... I told you not to come," he said, surprising Harry.

"Am I no longer part of the family?" she asked indignantly and approached the table where they were eating.

"Of course, but this party is for Harry. He'll be going to Hogwarts soon. I told you Malfoy might be here, so don't come."

"That's what I heard, that he was going to Hogwarts. He doesn't tell me anything anymore. Did you know? Where's Malfoy, by the way?"

Harry frowned, especially when she looked at him after scanning the room.

"There you are. I've missed you, Harry," she smiled. "You know it's not the same without you at the games?"

"Ginny" He greeted her without joy.

"What, Malfoy isn't by your side? I thought that with me out of the game he'd come back to you, was I wrong? Didn't he want to come back to you?" she said, a little more cheerfully than she should have been.

Harry tensed up. Everyone probably noticed the way his expression darkened.

"Ginny, let's go to your room," her mother called.

She laughed.

"I think I'm a little drunk. I'm seeing the walls move a little."

"you're very drunk," Arthur stated. "Go upstairs with your mother."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you, Harry, but you've been avoiding my owls and no one's telling me your new address. I think I've avoided it long enough, and I was hoping you'd have given Malfoy a divorce by now and would come looking for me."

"Looking for you?"

"Of course, Harry. I like you. I've tried to make you notice, but you don't. I don't understand why. You liked me. You even loved me. We were supposed to get married after the war, but instead of coming back to me, you went for Malfoy. Malfoy doesn't really deserve you, you know. You freed him from the trials, you helped him keep his fortune, he stopped being an outcast when he married you, and yet he didn't give you the family you wanted so badly. He didn't even offer to adopt. Although I'm not surprised he didn't. He has the ability to get pregnant. Not many pure-bloods have it, but he does. I heard him telling Fleur about it on his wedding day"—Fleur's eyes widened, and she stared at Ginny despite the stares of those present—"he seemed happy to have that ability. Yet he hasn't gotten pregnant all this time. Do you know what that means? It means he doesn't love you enough." "Not even to offer you the chance to adopt someone else's child, since it turned out he didn't have one," she scoffed.

"That?"

Harry blinked in surprise. All the words stuck in his throat—that they already had Teddy and didn't need to adopt—flew out, and he focused on the last thing she'd said. Had she said Draco could have babies? Why hadn't Draco mentioned it? Was he being careful and Harry hadn't noticed? Had he ever been pregnant? Had he lost a baby and Harry hadn't known? Maybe that was why he'd cried so much?

Suddenly, all their fighting, their furious sex terrified him. Was it possible that Harry had hurt him? Perhaps Draco couldn't forgive him for something like that? Was it Harry's fault they didn't have a child?

“But I do love you, Harry,” Ginny continued. “You’re wonderful. I think I was pretty obvious, but it seemed like everyone thought I was acting like a spoiled brat. I didn’t correct them. I knew that if I confirmed I still loved you, Hermione and Ron would tell you and Malfoy, and you’d give up, so I denied it for so long. I was happy we were friends again. That we were close again. I couldn’t help loving you. Malfoy noticed, but I knew that if you were convinced I wasn’t trying to seduce you, you’d defend me to him and tell him I acted like that with all my brothers. He was right, but even when you two had a fight, you didn’t even look at me. Even when I made Malfoy angry, he couldn’t convince you otherwise. I know I said I didn’t want to get married after Hogwarts, that I wanted to play Quidditch and travel, and that the last thing I wanted was children because I’d grown up with all my brothers, but I’ve changed, Harry. We can be together, I'll give you the baby you want so much."

"Harry didn't answer, he just stared at Ginny as if he didn't know her. Maybe a few years ago, when the war was over, a family, children, were what he wanted most; but after dating Draco, it became something that would be great, but not so necessary. They had Teddy, after all. Now, what he wanted most was to find Draco and humble himself to beg for his forgiveness. Now he just wanted to go back to the moment before Ginny told him they needed a new trainer."

"So, you did it on purpose?" Harry asked. "All the interviews, the photos in the newspapers—did you want Draco to think I was cheating on him with you?" he asked.

Ginny seemed to sense his annoyance, because she stepped back. Even with the alcohol in her system, she seemed to notice how much she had upset him.

"Harry, I thought..."

"I don't want to know what you were thinking. I want to know if you did anything else to separate us."

"I..."

" I want you to tell me if you did anything that made Draco decide to ask me for a divorce for good."

"I was there, he called your room and I was... Harry..." she pleaded.

Harry gritted his teeth.

His body trembled, and he felt his magic escape furiously from him as in the past.

"What about you?"

No one interrupted the scene, caught between fear and Harry's right to know.

She didn't speak.

"What about you?" Harry repeated. "Tell me, or I'll bring Veriseratum and shove it up your ass if I have to."

She lowered her gaze.

"You didn't forget to call him, Harry. You were going to. I started continuously throwing forgetfulness powder around you. I didn't want you to call him. I also created some problems for you to deal with so you couldn't come back, and I deliberately leaked information to reporters so there would be pictures that could be misinterpreted. I know you were arguing a bit, so I used a spell that emphasized that feeling."

Harry thought for a moment about how irritated he'd been when Draco came home last time and looked at him. How bothered he'd been by Draco's reaction to his obvious rejection. He thought about how, after a few weeks, he'd gone from being angry with him to feeling sad and getting drunk.

"So, were you saying that all those fights got out of control because of a fucking spell?"

"What about my room?"

"What?"

"You said Draco called my room. What happened?"

“I was there,” she admitted. “Sometimes, when I could, I’d slip touches of love potion on you. Not enough to make you fall madly in love, but enough to make you want to be around me. I was putting it in your things, said I wasn’t feeling well, and you went to dinner with the girls because it was Lauren’s birthday. Malfoy called; I was wearing one of your shirts and looking at myself in the mirror. As soon as he saw me, he hung up. I thought he’d tell you; I was surprised when he asked for a divorce without mentioning it.”

The glass plates and glasses broke.

Of course, of course Draco thought Harry had lied about his relationship with Ginny. Of course he clung to the idea that Ginny was his mistress. If Harry had called home and that fucking Blaise Zabini had answered shirtless, Harry would have gone ballistic too and demanded an explanation.

"How could you?" he asked. "I trusted you, and you used that trust to break up my relationship with Draco."

"Harry... Harry, I love you. I didn't plan for it to be like this. I thought you would leave him, not the other way around. That you would realize that you and I work better together."

"Love me? You destroyed my marriage. Draco destroyed himself so I could be happy with my job...with my life," he replied, tears of anger streaming down his face as he recalled Pansy's words. "He was right, I'm the one who ruined all this, and yet I'm clinging to him. He shouldn't even be able to look at me without breaking my nose."

"Harry," Ron called.

"He's right to try to leave. He should have left a long time ago, if I wasn't able to see this coming."

"Harry," Ron tried again, but when he took a step towards him, Harry stepped back.

"You're going to regret this," he told Ginny.

His friends' eyes widened.

"I'm going to make you regret what you did."

"Harry Potter!" Molly scolded him. Harry glared at her. "I know you're upset, but..."

"I've been living in hell because of her. I was happy, damn it. I loved him more than anything. We fought, we played, we competed—everything was energy, love, and passion. My world never felt more alive than when he was with me, and now all I feel is exhaustion, anger, and pain. I've felt this way for months, and I blamed Draco for it. Now I only have crumbs of what I once had, and it's all her fault. I trusted her. I considered her one of my best friends. She knew how much I missed Draco when our trips dragged on. I want to kill her. I want to grab her by the hair and drag her out to throw her in front of Draco before I put a spell on her."

Ginny gasped and positioned herself behind Percy.

Harry moved forward.

"You won't do such a thing," said Molly. "Let's discuss this like decent people, and when Ginny is sober."

Harry wanted to do it. He knew he was stronger than Molly, that with just a wave of his hand, he could bring Ginny down with him and hurt her.

"I'm not going to talk to her again, not without a lawyer present."

"Harry!"

"I'm going to file a lawsuit and make this public. Then the newspapers won't talk about how I cheated on my husband, but about how, despite love potions and forgetfulness powders, I went back to him."

He appeared.

It was late. He glanced at the clock on the wall and wished it would be three o'clock the next day. Summoning a bottle, he poured himself a glass of alcohol, trying to calm himself. He heard the Flute call, probably coming from the Burrow, and immediately shut it, blocking the passage.

I just wanted to see Draco again.

I just wanted to go home.

.

Draco came in through the fireplace around three in the morning. Harry knew this because he woke up when the fire started and someone slipped past the screens. Thinking Ron or Hermione might have come in anyway, he went downstairs immediately, only to find Draco asleep on the sofa. When he approached him, Draco smelled of alcohol, but he didn't appear to have been sick or had sex, which relieved Harry.

"Come on, Draco. Get up. You can't be comfortable there," she said.

"Bed?" the blond man asked weakly.

"Yes, I'll take you. Even though I only have one, we'll have to share," he said, dragging him across the room. He wanted to tell him everything he'd learned that day, but decided to wait.

"Sex?" Draco asked, leaning in close enough to kiss Harry's neck. Oh, Merlin, Harry could live months without sex, but when he had it, he wanted it badly. He wanted to take Draco right there on the stairs, then he remembered he was a little drunk himself and they'd probably just fall.

"Draco, my heart, we will fall."

"Appear to us."

"You would vomit."

"Probably. That's not sexy."

"No, it definitely isn't."

"Why are you treating me like this?"

"As?"

"I don't know. Like I'm going to break at any moment."

"I'm sorry. I like taking care of you and spoiling you."

"Will you kiss me? You haven't kissed me in months. I want you to kiss me and touch me. Like that time in the bathroom, I want more times like that. It was hard, but you said you loved me. It was different."

"Different, good?"

"You felt so hard and went so deep. You forced me to take it, but at the same time I couldn't help but pull myself closer to you; and when you filled me, you stayed there and kissed me like you wanted to steal the last of my breath. It reminded me of our first few months together. I miss who we were. Don't you? When after sex I didn't feel miserable, but happy. When you stayed, and smiled."

Harry stopped for a moment.

"I miss you too," he confessed.

"What happened to us?"

Harry remembered Ginny that night. What she said. How Harry let himself be drawn into a trap and how no one stopped to save him from it. To save Draco from the harm Harry was doing to him.

"I decided that working with my ex was a good idea. That working somewhere else wouldn't hurt us. I was wrong."

"Did you really hate going home, Harry? Was Ginevra right when she said your life was easier with me away from you?"

Harry gritted his teeth, feeling a strong urge to return to the Burrow and drag Ginny in front of Draco.

"No, of course not."

He finally placed him on his bed, and Draco snuggled into it before Harry stroked his hair. When Draco got drunk, he talked a lot and became demandingly spoiled. Harry became fearless and arrogant. Hermione said it brought out the Slytherin in him. His Slytherin, however, preferred the nearest Slytherin, so Ron and Hermione didn't have to deal with him much.

"What else did she say?" Harry asked.

"She said you didn't answer my calls because you got in a bad mood after talking to me."

"When did she answer, Draco?"

"I don't know. I knocked on your door. She answered, and she was wearing one of your shirts. The shirt I used to steal from that Muggle band of roses something. Why was she in your room, Harry? If there's really nothing between you two, if you didn't sleep together, why was she wearing your clothes?" he pleaded."

"She was asking me to kill her," Harry growled.

Draco frowned.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I'll explain everything to you tomorrow. Now, rest. It's very late and you're drunk. I'm drunk too."

"Aren't we going to sleep together?" Malfoy asked when he saw him grab a sheet and start to leave.

"Do you want me to sleep next to you?"

Draco nodded. He was a little more drunk than Harry, but seemed to have retained enough consciousness to converse. When Harry had invited Draco over, he'd known he'd be a bit tipsy and intended to find out the real reason behind the divorce request and what Draco expected of him. Now, it seemed irrelevant. He only wanted to know one thing.

"Draco, be honest with me. Do you still love me? Despite everything?"

"Yes, of course," Draco replied.

"And you still want us to get a divorce?"

"No, the truth is no."

"So why continue with the divorce even though I haven't signed it for months?"

"I guess it's because I feel like I can't back out and it's the best thing for both of us."

"Why? Why not lock me up and force me to talk? Why not tell me what's going on so we can fix it?"

Draco seemed to have thought about it.

"I didn't think we could fix things, so I preferred to end it all before I hated you." He cupped Harry's face in his hands, as if he wanted to etch every detail of him into his pupils. "I didn't want to hate you, Harry, but I couldn't go on like this anymore, with you always gone. I started to resent you for not being there. To get angry about every newspaper on my window, every day that passed without anyone being home with me. I felt silly waiting every day for the fire to light, but I didn't want to disrupt your schedule by calling you for no reason. I know you were tired and stressed, I know you didn't want to fight, but in the end, you assumed everything would end in a fight, and you didn't even talk to me anymore. That was even more painful. I thought about it a lot, Harry, the best way to end things without hurting each other too much. I didn't want to feel anger again when I looked at you, but the alternative was to mourn you for the rest of my life even while still having you, or wait for you to confirm that you had someone else or ask for a divorce. I wasn't sure anymore if you loved me or were with me out of habit. If you'd found someone else after we stopped having sex. It terrified me, and it drove me crazy. I was reaching the point where I thought, just once, let's deceive him once and for all and he'll see how painful it is, or I'll confirm once and for all that it was all over. But I didn't want to hurt you if I was wrong, I didn't want to break my promise...

As he spoke, tears began to well up in Draco's eyes; he seemed remorseful and fearful.

"Draco... Draco, don't cry. We can forget about the divorce. We can start over. Just accept my request. Let's stay married. Let's go home."

Draco denied it.

"You won't forgive me for taking Grimmauld away from you, for fracturing your relationship with the Weasleys, for ruining your coaching career. You'll hold a grudge. When I thought about this divorce, I thought you wouldn't care, because you'd keep all of that. You wouldn't miss me; it would just be like you were finally going on a trip and never coming back."

"That's not true. I care about you. I can forgive you if you can forgive me."

"Liar. You want me punished. I know I wanted to punish you. I wanted someone to pay. I don't think I can move on if someone doesn't pay."

"Draco..."

"The funny thing is, you refused to sign the papers and were as kind and charismatic to me as you always were. You reminded me how much I love you. The more time passes, the less I want a divorce; I just want you to be happy. To be happy with me, but I'm afraid it's only temporary. That in the end we'll be right back where we started. Tell me, Harry. Was I such a bad husband? You used to love me as a boyfriend. Why couldn't you keep doing that after we got married? Did I force you into marriage? Did I trap you?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "I haven't even been able to have a child despite my pureblood status. Astoria said it was because I wasn't sure about you. That I magically sabotaged every chance of conceiving. She said my insecurities were causing my magic to protect me from having another vulnerability, because I didn't trust me to protect myself. That if I kept going like this, I'd never have a baby. I wanted to give you a baby so badly. I knew you'd love it more than anything. That you'd be the best father in the world. And I couldn't give it to you. I couldn't do that right either. I didn't just disappoint my parents, I disappointed you. It was very kind of you not to mention that, by the way—he inhaled.

Harry shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.

"You were the best; I was the one who failed. You were right when you said I loved the attention. I loved it because I had just finished doing something I loved. I forgot I had someone I loved too. I don't know how I forgot, but I did. But you can be sure that if you had told me this sooner, I would have done something. Anything for you. As for the children, well, I didn't know, but it wouldn't have mattered.@

Draco wiped his tears with his hands. His cheeks and nose were red.

"I still love you, Harry, that's why I keep going to the cafe every day. Pansy says I'm an idiot. Blaise says we're both fools. Theo says you still love me, that you're not lying when you say it in the newspapers."

-I don't.

"If I love you and you love me, why did we end up like this? I had fun these last few days; it was like before. You made me laugh and smiled a lot. Is this how it's supposed to be? Should we just be friends so we can be the best versions of ourselves?"

"No... it's not like that. We're meant to be together, even if no one else wants us to. Our love is real."

He kissed him deeply. He could smell Draco's cologne, feel his tremors when he gripped his hip, feel him starting to move, starting to reach for him. He placed his hand in Harry's hair, still kissing him, and his other hand...

Marline.

"Mmm," Draco moaned, and Harry watched with fascination as the blond lowered his hand and pleasured himself, while Harry kissed him. It was exciting, knowing that just one kiss was enough to arouse Draco. He kissed him harder and harder until he felt Draco moan and heard him finish. When they separated, Draco smiled and reached out to Harry, trying to please him with it, but Harry pulled back and looked away.

"Don't you love me anymore?" the hurt Slytherin asked.

"Merlin, of course I love you. I want to enter you. Godric knows how much I love him."

"Then come in," Draco offered, opening his legs and arms toward him. He was still dressed, but with a flick of Harry's wrist he could be naked. Harry hesitated. It had been years since Draco had looked at him like that, as if he lived only to be loved by Harry. He felt his heart pound and his soul intoxicated by that adoration.

"You're drunk. You'll regret this," he whispered.

"Why? We're still married," he repeated Harry's phrase.

They were.

They were, and if Harry couldn't convince him to come back, he would have to sign and he would never have him again.

He climbed into bed and kissed him. He intertwined his legs with Harry's and pressed his hardness against him. He moaned at Draco's warmth, the dampness of his previous orgasm. He rubbed against him like an animal in heat and kissed his neck and lips, again and again. He could feel and hear Draco's moans, his own, their breaths. He smelled their scents mingling. It was the complete opposite of the last time. It was quick, loud, but just as needy. At some point, Draco turned over, his back to him, calling him, and Harry pressed himself against him, masturbating with his buttocks. He clasped his hands together and kissed Draco's shoulders as he thrust. The sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room again and again; it was dirty and shameless. Each thrust drove Draco deeper and deeper into the mattress, but he didn't complain, only moaned louder and louder.

"Inside, Harry. Inside..." he pleaded.

Harry summoned the lubricant and began preparing Draco with his fingers. Draco groaned, but Harry distracted him with kisses until he started pushing against his hand.

"I love you. Merlin, I love you, Draco. If I could stay here with you forever, I would."

"Come inside me, Harry. I need it. I need it," he pleaded. "I need to know that you still want me, that you still need me."

Harry obeyed and Draco let out a satisfied sound when he did; excited, Harry bit his neck, trapping him.

"You are the love of my life, Draco. No one will ever be able to replace you. Desire is not the only thing I feel for you."

He began to push, and as he did so, he lowered his hand and moved it over Draco's member.

Draco ended up again, in the middle of a net formed by Harry's body.

Harry didn't let him recover, pushing and pushing until he felt like he was going to explode, squeezing his waist against him, forcing him to stay still and receive his load. Draco groaned again, accepting it. He arched his back so that his chest touched the bed, but his buttocks still trapped Harry.

"Yes," she whispered, "it feels so good..."

"Do you love me, Draco? Say it."

"I love you, I love you more than anything," he sighed. Harry cupped his face and kissed him again. When he felt he couldn't breathe, he pulled away from Draco and lay down beside him. Draco laughed, snuggling into his arm.

"It was great..." he whispered, but fell asleep before Harry could reply.

.

Waking up with Draco beside him was something Harry hadn't expected, and hadn't really done in a while. He smiled, and Draco seemed surprised by that, so much so that Harry thought it had been a dream, but it wasn't. Draco was there, looking at him. Covered with the sheet and his hair a mess. Looking at him with a mixture of horror and embarrassment.

"I came here."

"Yes," Harry smiled, "I noticed. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Draco blushed and squeezed his legs together before squirming. He trembled, and Harry knew he was thinking about the fluid between them, since they hadn't cleaned themselves.

"Did I say something embarrassing?" Draco asked, looking around until he saw his reflection in the bedroom mirror. "Oh, Merlin, I cried."

"A little. Okay, I did it too. And you didn't say anything embarrassing."

"I think I'm going to throw up. I look sick."

"You look a bit disheveled, but you're still handsome. I'll make you something to eat, and I'll get a hangover potion," Harry offered. "You'll feel better."

"I shouldn't stay. I should... we're..."

-Draco... you don't have to run away, we've done it many times. In different ways. We've done it when I was drunk before. You or me. Or both of us.

Draco bit his lower lip lightly.

"But that was before."

"We're still married. I still love you and you still love me. We hadn't done it in months, it's normal that we needed contact," he replied, kissing his cheek. "Especially since we'll probably continue to do so in the future, if I know us well."

"You really wouldn't do it with anyone other than me?" the blond man asked.

"Of course not. Haven't you read the inscription on your bracelet?" he asked, taking his wrist and showing the bracelet to Draco.

Draco stared at him.

"Are you really not going to sign?@

"No," Harry laughed. "But you knew that. I think I was pretty obvious. Marking my territory all over the country through the media and hanging around you as much as possible in the cafeteria. I basically told everyone that if you said we were breaking up, you were crazy."

"I thought you wanted us to be friends. You're still friends with Chang and Weaselette. Or were you just teasing me?"

Harry laughed tenderly this time.

"Merlin, you're so silly sometimes. You don't have the ring, but you have the bracelet, and both mark you as my husband. I went to St. Mungo's to thank them for taking you in and asked them to treat you well. I went to the Ministry and chatted out loud to Hermione about what a wonderful husband you are. She looked at me like I had a fever, by the way. I went to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and bought dozens of potions for use in bed in front of a reporter, and winked at him, saying you forgot to go get them because of your studies. Even when I went to Hogwarts to talk to McGonagall, I made sure they knew I'm married and want a fireplace with access to Diagon Alley and a double bed. I love you. And you're mine, and I'm yours. If we divorced, you'd find someone else, and I'm not going to let that happen. You can go away if you want, Draco, until you decide to come back. But your body and your love are mine. Just as my body and my love are yours. I'll give them to you, Draco. All day, all the time if you want. Just come to me for them. I might come to you too, from time to time. Try not to be in a public place when that happens."

Draco blushed with embarrassment.

"Why didn't you ever ask if there was someone else, even though I accused you of cheating on me with Ginevra?" he asked without looking at him.

"Because family is the most important thing to you. I am your family. You won't cheat on me while I'm wearing your ring. You're too loyal."

Draco sighed.

"Listen, I want to talk to you about something that happened yesterday at dinner."

With a suspicious look, Draco nodded. Harry walked to his wardrobe and took out a T-shirt, some trousers, and some boxers, handing them to Draco, who accepted them with a raised eyebrow.

"You know, so you have a new favorite. I'm going to burn the other one."

Draco looked at him confused, until he understood.

"Oh, I told you about that call."

"You told me."

"Then why...?"

Harry didn't let him continue, kissing his forehead before stepping back.

"Let's talk, Draco. Properly, until there's not a single thing left to discuss. We'll talk about Ginny, our jobs, our dreams, whether or not we'll have children, our doubts, everything. Then, if we still don't agree on this marriage, I'll sign the divorce papers." Draco looked at him, holding his breath. "But if we can reach an agreement, we'll stay married, I'll put my ring back on your finger, and we'll make love again, until one of us has some unfinished business we can't avoid. We'll go, you'll do what you have to do, and then we'll come home, have dinner, and I'll take you again, until we're ready to tell our respective friends that we screwed them over for months for absolutely nothing."

Draco smiled, and shyly tucked one of his strands of hair behind his ear.

"OK?"

"Yeah."

"I'll take a quick shower and when I get out I'll let you get ready while we prepare breakfast."

"Okay. Harry," he called when he was at the bathroom door.

"Yeah?"

"What happens if we get divorced? Will we still be friends?"

"We'll see. Although, to be honest, if we get divorced, I'm going to hound you for a few months before asking you out again, and then we'll get married," he laughed. "I'm thinking that this time, we could have a honeymoon at the beach. The mountains were great, but it was so cold. What do you say?"

Draco blinked for a few seconds before answering.

"I'm saying that if we weren't married, this would be a little creepy.@

Harry laughed.

.

The newspaper printed Harry Potter's lawsuit against Ginevra Weasley a few days after Harry and Draco's reconciliation. Draco, who knew the story directly from Harry, was genuinely shocked when it seemed not only Harry but also the Ministry and the press knew. He hadn't thought Harry would go public for the sake of his relationship with the Weasleys, so he was taken aback when reporters cornered him outside St. Mungo's. His being there for his internship wasn't exactly newsworthy, but it seemed they'd been tracking him, hoping to catch him leaving the hospital.

At first, Draco didn't think they were waiting for him. He tried to avoid them, but when they rushed over at the sight of him, he wondered if they would continue asking about his marriage.

"Is everything alright now between you and Mr. Potter?" one of them asked. "Will you testify in the case?"

"What?" Draco asked. "What case?"

Harry Potter sued Ginevra Weasley a few hours ago for using spells and potions on him. Didn't Mr. Potter mention anything to you? Were you unaware of this?

Draco raised his hand, signaling them to stop. They thought he wanted to talk. Draco disappeared.

He appeared at Harry's apartment. The living room was a mess, and there were some empty suitcases on the sofa. He was leaving for Hogwarts soon, in exactly seventeen hours. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to miss him. He was staring at the suitcases when Harry peeked out from his kitchen and smiled at him.

"Hello. You came," he said happily. "I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow at the station. If I was lucky, tonight."

Draco nodded without responding verbally.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked. "I didn't know you were coming, but I think I can make some more food for both of us. Will you stay for lunch?" he asked.

Draco still didn't answer, only looked at him before walking towards him and placing his hands on his face before kissing him deeply. Harry accepted the kiss and relaxed into it. He held Draco's waist and pulled him closer.

"Mmm..." Harry hummed happily. "Why was that? What did I do right?"

Draco denied it.

"I'm just happy," he said and kissed him again, wrapping his hands around his neck. Harry smiled into the kiss and lifted him up, turning him around.

"Stop it," Draco laughed, and Harry pulled him down onto the sofa before kissing him again. When they broke apart, they looked at each other and smiled.

"Of course I'll stay for lunch," Draco declared. "I can't miss the chance to eat your food one last time before you leave."

"Are you sure you don't want to go to Hogwarts? I can still include you."

"Not for now. Get used to classes first; the last thing you need is 24/7 distraction."

"Or being discovered using empty rooms, doing things for people over eighteen."

Draco laughed.

"I'll miss you, but this way I can focus on my career and you can take care of your children without me getting jealous and demanding attention."

"You look awful when that happens," he joked, then softened his gaze and pressed their foreheads together. "I'll come every night. You can stay here whenever you want. Use my things and my clothes."

Draco nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. They weren't divorced, but they weren't living together either. They were a couple, yes, but their relationship was more like boyfriend and girlfriend than husband and wife, and until now Draco had been careful around him, as if he had to think carefully about what he said, afraid of upsetting Harry. Harry often got irritated, but he was careful with what he said himself, so as not to hurt Draco.

Today, however, that caution between them was absent. Tucking a blond strand of hair behind Draco's ear, Harry gazed at him for a few seconds before smiling slightly and kissing his forehead.

"You said you wouldn't get over it until someone paid. It seems to be true. You look... happy."

"What did I say?" Draco asked, confused.

"You said you wouldn't get over our divorce until someone paid. That night, the day you came here in the wee hours and we slept together, you said you wouldn't forgive me for what I did and you didn't think you could move on until someone paid. At first, I didn't understand, but then I remembered how I threatened Ginny in front of her family when she told me what she'd done to try and break us up. I was furious. I wanted her to pay for the pain she caused me right then and there, so I threatened to put a spell on her. I understood how you felt when I refused to sign the papers after leaving you talking to yourself in Grimmauld. You wanted to hurt me, that's why you took her."

"Harry..."

"And then you felt guilty, which is why you tried to make up for it with another property and money. Once you had Grimmauld, you had to move on; you couldn't go back... you can't go back on her, and we can't be the same as before, and that bothers me a lot, but at the same time, it's a relief, because we've fixed things we couldn't before. I value what we learned, but I also think we should end this matter, for both our sakes. Hermione came with me to the Ministry to report the use of spells and potions on me, and even though Ron wasn't happy about it, he didn't stop us. If someone has to pay, it shouldn't be you or me. It shouldn't be. We were the victims. We weren't the best marriage, but we were a team. That's why I did it, because I let the team fall apart. I know I've made Molly angry, and that all of Ginny's brothers are going to dislike me a little for a while, but it was worth it, because now we can both move forward, knowing that we managed to discuss our problems without hitting each other, or completely separating."

Draco licked his lips, feeling tears well up. He smiled, tearfully.

"Yes," he replied. He had torn up the divorce papers the day they agreed to stay together, but finally it felt real. Something that wouldn't slip through his fingers later on. - Twelve of Grimmauld Place.

Harry's eyes widened as memories of the place flooded back to him as if they had never left.

"Draco? Is this okay for you?" he asked.

Draco smiled.

"Of course. After all, we're still married."

Harry smiled broadly before kissing him hard.

"I miss you," Draco confessed when they parted. "I hate not seeing you at home. I want you back. Please come back."

Harry let out a moved sound.

"Yes, it's decided. I'm not going on my first day at Hogwarts. I'm going to be very busy, moving home. No, I definitely won't be going the first week. I'll be busy cornering you in every corner of Grimmauld again. And then you can come with me to Hogwarts. Let's christen my rooms."

"They're going to fire you," Draco laughed.

"What does it matter? They should understand, after all, we're still married."

.

Harry smiled when he found Draco standing on the platform, waiting for him. Draco greeted him with a frown, his six-month pregnant belly making it difficult for him to walk. People around him looked at him curiously; after all, it was strange to see a man in his condition. Some waved as they crossed, while others tried to avoid him. Harry simply ran to him and hugged him, then kissed him. He could hear his students snickering and could see the blush spreading from Draco's ears to his neck, but he didn't care.

"Hi!" He whispered. "Did you miss me?"

"No," Draco replied, in the same tone. "It's hard to miss you when I'm literally carrying your son around, reminding me of your existence and preventing me from drinking coffee, which is the only good thing about St. Mungo's, and making me want to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes."

Harry laughed.

"A boring day?"

"Every day is boring since I can no longer perform complicated spells or make potions. I can't even treat serious injuries. Everyone tiptoes around me, as if just breathing near me will make me go into labor. Many pregnant healers work in Spell Damage. I'm practically excluded from the excitement; it's all paperwork and lying on the couch watching the world go by while I work my hours."

"I thought you liked getting paid to sleep."

"Not anymore. Now I want to stop waddling like a duck and look at my feet."

Harry smiled and walked away.

"You look gorgeous, if you ask me."

"That's why I'm not asking you."

"Don't be upset," he kissed his cheek, "it's just that none of them want to hurt my husband and my baby. I might have threatened them a little," he said, taking his hand and starting to walk. Nearby, people watched them, some taking pictures. Harry smiled at the cameras and held up both their hands, showing off their rings. Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled, still holding his hand.

"Shall we go home?" he asked, extending his arm for Draco to take and for them to Apparate. Draco nodded, and they were about to leave when a snake's Patronus appeared before them.

"Draco," Pansy's voice called, "you'd better not forget dinner tonight. I don't care if you've just returned from Hogwarts, the war, or hell—you're the guest of honor."

Draco sighed. Harry, however, had a huge smile on his face.

"You really like Pansy's patronus, don't you?"

"Yes, her patronus. It's great that it's a snake."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Of course, he didn't understand Harry's relief at learning that Ron's Patronus that day had been answered by Parkinson's.

"It doesn't matter. They're no match for our deer," he exclaimed victoriously.

"That's right," Draco replied, smiling as Grimmauld Place opened its doors for them.

They were at home