Now, Sakai Michiba presents:
Ambivalent Lucidity
Epilogue

Green eyes slid slowly open and blinked owlishly for a moment before large hands came up and rubbed furiously at them before Harry’s vision cleared enough to make out the sleeping blond next to him. This was comfortable, the perfect way to wake up on a Christmas morning, and so it had been for the past two Christmases. Every year, Harry and Draco spent Christmas Eve at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Hermione, and every Christmas morning since the morning after Draco’s Ancestral Rite finished, Harry did the very same thing.

He reached out, resting his hands on Draco’s body and pulling it closer, so close he could bury his nose in Draco’s hair. The blond gave a little moan in his sleep but did not wake, and Harry beamed at him, checking the clock over Draco’s shoulder. 08:23—perfect. No one else would be awake, with the exception of Molly, and so they would not be interrupted. He flicked his wand at the door, casting a Silencing Charm so as to not disturb anyone else, before he suddenly and forcefully rolled Draco onto his back. Draco hardly stirred, smacking his lips in his sleep. “You sod,” Harry breathed, and he swiftly disappeared beneath the blankets. Draco’s pale, bare stomach leapt under his fingertip-touch, and he pressed a kiss to the golden-blond trail of fuzz leading from Draco’s bellybutton into his boxer shorts before his fingers snagged the waistband and drew it downward. The boxers rolled off of Draco’s hips with little resistance, and Draco’s lips smacked again.

Neither Harry nor Draco was usually a morning-sex type of guy, they had discovered in the past two years, but Christmas was special, and traditions must be upheld. Their first Christmas together, just after Draco’s ‘personalities’ had disappeared, the blond had been sporting quite the morning erection and Harry had been completely unable to help himself.

“What are you doing?” Draco mumbled as his eyes slid open, but they immediately slammed closed again as Harry’s mouth, still terribly unskilled at this, slipped over his cock and gave it a very proper good morning kiss. “Ah…” His legs spread wantonly, and he lifted his knees to wrap his shins around Harry’s shoulders. He supposed it was lucky Ron had given the room to them for the evening, in celebration of Draco’s newfound sanity. Liquid heat pooled in his thighs, and he buried his hands in Harry’s hair as he thrust clumsily, sleepily, into Harry’s willing mouth.

This section is quite NC-17 and can be found at my Livejournal. It's quite lengthy, so please visit!

There came a knock at the door around half an hour later. Harry and Draco were already cleaned up and dressed for the day, so they were not startled when Ron opened the door and peeked inside. “Oh, you’re up,” he stated with a hint of surprise in his voice, and his head disappeared for a moment before he slipped into the room and closed the door. There was the sound of a baby screaming downstairs before he closed it, and he rolled his eyes before he shook his head. “You don’t mind if I hide in here for a moment, do you? Bill can’t get his baby to stop shrieking long enough for us to get started on presents, and Mum’s trying to get me to watch it.”

Harry snorted and shook his head. “Hide away,” he invited as he watched Draco inspecting himself in the mirror. Ron nodded and looked as though he was considering sitting on the bed, but he caught sight of the half-empty bottle of oil left out on the nightstand and thought better of it.

“Er, all right.” He settled for a chair.

It had been two full years since Draco was cured, and their lives had changed completely since then. They had graduated from Hogwarts, and Harry was currently in Auror training for the Ministry even though Voldemort had been defeated the year before by Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Ron had been away at the time, and Voldemort had caught the three one Saturday night when they were having dinner in Diagon Alley, where Harry and Draco shared a flat. It was a combined spell from Harry and Draco that killed him, and the boys had been in St. Mungo’s for weeks afterward. Neither knew what spells they had cast, but they supposed it did not matter. They were alive, and Voldemort was not. Nothing could be more important.

Draco worked at Quality Quidditch Supplies across from their flat, though he certainly did not have to. “I have to have something to do with my time, Potter,” he had snapped at Harry when Harry skeptically questioned his motives. He worked while Harry was away in training for the better part of every weekday, though he never worked more than six hours or so. Both he and Harry had the newest broomstick prototype, Tailwind IV, though they wondered if there had ever been a Tailwind I, II, or III. Harry insisted that it was really just a more expensive version of the Firebolt, but Draco knew better. It went half a mile an hour faster, had slightly better balance (Harry insisted there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt’s balance, but Draco informed him that he sat crooked on it, so he would not have noticed. Harry thumped him.), and had better anti-jinxing charms. It was the sort of subject they did not discuss too often, as it often led to a fight.

Ron and Hermione were no longer together, as Ron got too paranoid whenever he left on business trips for Fred and George’s joke shop. They parted on good terms, and it was painfully obvious that Hermione was still deeply in love with Ron, but she told Harry that they both needed to grow up a bit before trying again.

Bill and Fleur Delacour were married and had a daughter, Amiella, who was just three months old. Charlie was still single and fighting dragons in Romania, while Fred and George were wildly successful with their shops in both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Harry often had them over for lunch on weekends, and Draco was growing quite fond of them. Ginny was flying for the Holyhead Harpies as Chaser, their newest team member. Percy was Assistant to the Minster of Magic, and they rarely saw him.

There had been a good five minutes since the baby stopped crying, and so when Molly called, “Presents!” up the stairs, the three men left the room and stomped downstairs. Draco looked over at Harry and beamed at him, tangling their fingers together and looking pleased. Harry leaned over and kissed him just before they reached the bottom of the stairs and took a seat on the floor next to Bill, who immediately handed the baby over to Draco.

Draco made a funny face at Bill and cradled the child in his arms, looking down at her with something between terror and adoration. Harry cocked an eyebrow at him and watched as Draco touched her hair and her chubby cheeks curiously, and he leaned lightly into Draco’s shoulder. The baby grabbed one of Draco’s fingers and pulled it into her mouth with a strong grip, and Draco wrinkled his nose as she gummed his fingertip. “Gross,” he muttered, but he was smiling, and when Bill offered to take the baby back, Draco shook his head and continued to hold her.

Harry grinned at him and, when everyone began ripping their presents open, he leaned over in the noise and whispered, “You want one?” Draco’s eyes widened and he met Harry’s gaze with a skeptical look, and Harry burst out laughing at his expression. “I’ll take that as a no, shall I?”

“You can clean up the puke and the shit, Potter…” They laughed together, and Bill took the baby so they could open their gifts. Sitting there, covered in sweaters and tacky underpants, Harry looked over to Draco again, watching as he opened his gifts, and he smiled to himself. Draco glanced over and saw him staring, and he gave him a slight smile with a questioning look before going back to his presents.

Harry knew how lucky he was. Even Ron and Hermione had not been able to stay together, and everyone still gave him and Draco curious looks, as though wondering how they made it work so well. Harry knew it was because they told each other everything and kept no secrets whatsoever, and that it was because they trusted each other implicitly. He knew Draco would not cheat on him, and he would never even think about it himself. He often thought about how McGonagall and Dumbledore—may they rest in peace—had given him the option of leaving Draco by the wayside (though Draco had certainly given him no such choice). He could not even imagine his life now without Draco at his side, and he did not regret for a moment the night he took Draco back into his care.

“Will you stop staring at me?!” Draco snarled playfully at Harry so the others could not hear. Harry blinked at him then smiled apologetically, chuckling as Draco leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “What are you thinking about, anyway?”

“Your arse,” Harry proclaimed firmly, a stupid grin on his face, and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Naturally.”

Author's note: I would like to thank all my readers for sticking with me for this long, and I truly hope you enjoyed my story. It was a pleasure writing it for you! There is currently no plan for a sequel (even though early on I announced that there might be one), so you must take it as it is. :D Thank you for your dedication, and be sure to look out for my stories "Sectumsempra Animi" and "The Sky Was Orange" ("Sky" is currently not released as of 6/8/2007).