Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and no profit is being made from this.
"What time is it?"
"Half past two."
Harry traced a lazy pattern across Draco's chest. "I haven't stayed in bed all day since…oh, it's been a long time."
"Open the window, would you? It's bloody hot in here."
Harry flicked his fingers and the window slid up. "Make me do everything, huh?"
"Yep." Draco gave his hair a little tug.
Flopping back onto the pillows, Harry stretched and folded his arms above his head. The leaves on the tree outside the window cast shadows against the wall, and he watched them flicker.
He dozed off, but woke up when Draco abruptly rolled over and straddled him. "Staying in bed doesn't necessarily mean sleeping," Draco pointed out.
Harry's smile slipped into a grin. "True."
"I always wanted to learn to play the guitar."
"Well please do it somewhere out of my hearing."
Harry strummed an – off key – chord. "You're going to be providing the vocals."
Draco twisted around in his chair. "I can't sing."
"Don't care. Come on – give me something romantic."
"Fine. Oh, come and stir my cauldron, and if you do it right –"
"Isn't that from the seventies or something?"
"So? My parents listened to it all the time – I can't come up with romantic ballads off the top of my head."
"Okay, okay. Keep going."
"Oh, come and stir my cauldron…"
The restaurant was fancy and expensive. Everyone stared at them.
Draco looked around, then summoned the maitre d'. "We want a private room."
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," the maitre d' murmured. "This way please."
A private room. As if that would help matters. Harry shook his head and followed.
"Oh, and I want a house elf for our server tonight," Draco added when they were seated once more, "who will swear not to talk about anything he or she might see."
Harry really thought he might die of embarrassment right there.
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy."
It turned out not to be such a bad thing. No one was staring at him, plus he got to get rid of the dress robes, which were uncomfortable, and eat in his shirt and tie. Sometimes only his tie.
"We won't want the fish until later," Draco instructed. "But bring some more of that wine." The house elf bowed and disappeared, and Harry went back to what he was doing to Draco under the table. Yes, he was very glad there was no chance of a waiter popping by to refill their water glasses.
"I would have caught the Snitch," Draco said, popping a handful of jelly slugs into his mouth. "That last dive – I would have caught it."
Harry propped his feet up on the bench in front of them and twirled his omnioculars back. "You would have been two feet deep in the turf – you're a rotten diver."
"Better than that idiot up there," Draco replied, sounding sulky.
Harry glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I suppose."
"Better at cheating, anyway."
Draco hit him on the arm. "At least I didn't ever swallow the bloody thing."
"True." Harry focused in on the Beaters. "You've found much better things to do with your mouth."
Draco hit him again.
"This is for me? Why?"
"Do I have to have a reason to give you a present?"
Harry tore off the wrapping paper, revealing a glass box. "It's a…snake."
"Um, why did you get me a snake?"
Draco waved his hand. "I thought you needed a pet – you know, something to shower your love and affection on."
Harry looked at him. "I have you for that."
"Yes, well, I prefer not to have that particular noun applied to me personally."
Harry looked back at the snake. "Why not a dog or a cat?"
"You're a Parseltongue, Harry. Normally you'd have to guess at what your pet was trying to tell you – with a snake you'll actually know."
Harry shifted his gaze back to Draco. "No ulterior motives?"
Draco scratched the back of his neck. "Of course not. I mean, even if you did sort of keep the snake right next to the bed and look at it every now and then and say a little something – that wouldn't be my main reason for giving it to you."
"Right." Harry reached into the box and picked up the snake. She said hello in a polite tone.
"Done any work in strip clubs?" Harry asked her.
"You want me to put on these shoes with wheels and then go racing around out there?" Draco shook his head. "Are you insane?"
"I've never done it either, but it always looked like fun."
"It was invented by Muggles, how could it possibly be fun?"
"Oh, come on." Harry began pulling on the roller skates. "If you're afraid of falling you can always hold onto the railing."
"I am not afraid," Draco said stiffly. "I just prefer to be a wizard and stick with wizarding amusements." But he did put on the skates.
A minute later, they were both in a pile on the floor. "If you hadn't grabbed my arm," Draco said, rubbing his ankle, "I wouldn't have fallen. And don't laugh at me."
Harry took a deep breath and tried to stop. "I wasn't laughing at you. Anyway, you grabbed my arm."
"Muggles," Draco muttered, struggling back to his feet.
"It has to be at least ninety degrees, I'm drenched in sweat, and you're walking along licking a fucking ice cream cone. In shorts," Draco added.
"So either find us an alley or Apparate back to the fucking bed!"
Harry did neither. "You said you didn't want one – an ice cream cone."
"Because I have some small remnants of compassion left." Draco pushed his hair back. "Unlike you."
"You know that thing I wanted to try? Well, if you say that you'll do it –"
"Yes, fine! Just throw that damn thing away and let's get to it."
"So, lover, do you want pancakes," Harry kissed Draco's stomach, "eggs," he kissed his neck, "or waffles?" he finished, muffling Draco's answer with his mouth.
"Waffles," Draco repeated. "With syrup. Better bring the whole bottle."
Harry returned after awhile with a loaded tray.
"Did you have to bring Nagina's breakfast, too?" Draco asked, eyeing the white mouse, currently under Petrificus, with distaste.
"She's hungry," Harry replied, dropping the mouse into her cage. "Finite Incantatem. You know she won't talk to me if she's hungry."
"Because you spoil her. I mean, we had to fly for four hours to get to that museum just because Nagina was interested in late fourth century centaur pottery." Draco pushed himself into a sitting position.
Harry put a forkful of waffle into Draco's mouth. "I spoil everyone I love."
"Isn't there a charm or something for blocking the sun?" Draco asked, sprawled across the seats of the small boat they had rented.
"Probably. Don't know it, though." Harry gave the oars a leisurely pull.
"Conjure me up a hat or something."
Harry picked up the thermos and with a pop it became a large straw hat – a lime green straw hat with several feathers. He tossed it over to Draco.
Draco regarded it in silence for a few moments. "Is this deliberate or just because you're awful at Transfiguration?"
Harry gave him an innocent look. Draco put the hat over his face and settled back down.
A breeze came up, ruffling the water. The feathers waved gently. Draco tipped the hat up a bit. "Happy?" he asked.
"Very," Harry replied. "Very happy."
Author's Note: I was inspired to write this after watching "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy," a fanvid by norkafox on YouTube. Admittedly, the snake and Parseltongue is a bit clichéd, but it's a cliché I have a weakness for.