Like Ice

It had been nearly a week and Draco still wasn't talking to him… Wasn't even looking at him. Scorpius had revealed, in a whisper, that his father was very put-out, but could Harry still bring Teddy by?

Well, he'd brought Teddy along and had gotten the door slammed in his face after a crisp, "I'll send Teddy home with a Portkey." That hadn't gone as expected at all…

Now, paperwork piling up yet again, Harry was slumped in his chair, toying with his wand. Of course Teddy would have returned home with all sorts of stories… Draco this, Draco that, and wasn't it super nice that Draco had taken them for ice cream? Super nice, he thought darkly, but it wasn't Teddy's fault. Teddy hadn't refused the very romantic Valentine's Day invitation. Teddy hadn't been cajoled by Hermione and Ron into a blind date. Teddy hadn't gotten his picture plastered over the front page of the Daily Prophet while snogging some girl!

Bloody hell, the snogging hadn't been his idea… The girl had attacked him, and he'd shoved her off quick enough… Well, not quick enough. Damn Prophet. He'd never liked it, never liked reporters. And if that picture hadn't made it in the paper, Draco wouldn't be half as miffed as he was now. It was worse that Draco had actually let him explain… That conversation had been torture…

Draco slammed the paper down onto Harry's desk, silver eyes like ice. "Well. Now I know why you refused my invitation."

Baffled, Harry had picked up the paper and had stared for a full, slack-jawed, ten seconds. "What is this?"

"That is precisely what I would like to know."

Harry had looked up, gaped, and suddenly understood Draco's anger. "Listen, Draco, it isn't what you think. Hermione and Ron thought I was a bit lonely and decided to rope me into this blind date. I couldn't say no."

"I'm sure you could have easily said that you were involved with someone else."

"Well, yeah, I could've. But then they would've started asking questions about who I was seeing and all that…" He hadn't seen the hurt fly into those icy eyes because his gaze had gone back to the paper. "And this was all her doing. She ruddy attacked me and I shoved her off quick as I could."

"Not too quickly." That was a tone Harry hadn't heard in… well, not since their school days. It was clipped, snotty. Harry had tilted his head back, gaze questioning.


"Can the precious Potter no longer hear?" Draco had sneered. "You can't have pulled back too quickly, else she would've found out that you were queer. Proud Potter, the Chosen One, queer? Impossible! And how could he ever, ever, admit to snogging Draco Malfoy? Son of a Death Eater, even. Your friends would be horrified."


"That's Malfoy to you, Potter. Or, better yet, call me nothing at all. Don't even speak to me. Can't have anyone getting ideas, can we?" And he'd been gone in a sweep of dark robes and darker mood. And that was the last conversation he'd had with Draco…

Harry dropped his head onto his desk with a sigh and looked up hopefully when the door opened. He was slumping again when he saw who it was. "Oh… Hi, Hermione."

"Well, that was a thrilling welcome. Are you expecting someone?"


The woman wandered over, perched at the edge of a chair in front of Harry's desk. It was the chair Draco had a habit of dropping into. It was an effort to avoid asking Hermione to switch to the other one. "I suspect that you're being untruthful. Moreover, I also suspect something else. Though, I'm fairly certain my second suspicion was confirmed after that Valentine's Day fiasco."

Leave it to Hermione to talk in riddles when Harry wanted to bash his head against a wall… "Fiasco? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do! You wouldn't even kiss Samantha."

"In case you missed it, our kiss was all over the Prophet."

"You pushing her off almost immediately wasn't. Your refusal to head upstairs for some Valentine's Day sex also wasn't. So who is she?"


Her sigh was impatient. "Yes, Harry. Who have you been dating and why are you keeping it a secret from Ron and I? Are you ashamed?"

"No… I mean, there's no one. There's nothing."

"Harry James Potter, do not lie to me. I have been your friend since you were eleven years old and I can tell when you are."

He looked down, hair covering his eyes. "There's no she." At least that was the truth.

He heard Hermione suck in a breath. "A he, Harry?" That earned a jerk of the shoulder, but Harry didn't look up. Hermione eased back in the chair, staring. "Well… Out with it, then. The whole story."

Harry's head snapped up. "What?"

"Well, you can't just expect me to leave after you inform me that you fancy men, can you? Oh, he must have been so upset when he saw the Prophet. Poor thing." She clucked her tongue and Harry wondered if she would feel so much pity once he revealed the name… Not that he was going to, of course. "I can't believe you, Harry. You should have told Ron and I that you were seeing someone. I can understand not telling Ron," she added after a moment, "but really. You shouldn't have kept something this important from me."

"It's nothing," he tried to say, but at Hermione's gaping expression, he realized that the words that had actually left was, "It's Draco Malfoy."

There was a long beat of silence before Hermione blew out a breath. "As I said, Harry, out with it. I'd like the whole story."

And, with the name out in the open, everything was spilled. The Christmas Eve invitation, the kiss beneath the non-existent mistletoe, the reveal of Scorpius, plenty of snogging and dinners at Draco's flat and even the mind-blowing session they'd had in bed… that had lasted all night. And Hermione probably hadn't needed to know about that, but Harry was suddenly so bloody glad that someone knew about his affair with Draco, that he was absolutely smitten with Draco.

When he finished it off with their last, frosty conversation, he watched Hermione's lips form an annoyed straight line. "Oh, Harry, you idiot! How could you be hiding this? Can't you see that Draco knows you're ashamed of him?"

"I'm not ashamed… It's private. Ron would have a heart attack – I dumped Ginny because I like blokes. He'll be mad for months. And then he'll remember that I'm in love with Draco Malfoy, who has a Dark Mark on his arm, and he'll be mad for years. The entire wizarding world knows about one snog with this friend of yours; they'll have a ball when they discover I'm with Draco hardly a week afterwards."

"What does the press have to do with who you love? And don't you even worry about Ron; I can handle him. And, you've said it yourself and long before any of this, Draco's a very good auror. And he's a good man. You told me that before Halloween, remember?"

"I was drunk."

"Hardly," she shot back, getting to her feet. "Now you had better make amends with him right away else you'll both be miserable."

"How'm I supposed to do that?"

"Easily, Harry!" Huffing, Hermione marched behind Harry and dumped him out of the chair. "Show him you're not ashamed to be with him. Why shouldn't you just go public with this? You're hurting and I'm sure he is. I'll have to speak with him later, obviously, but that can wait until the two of you have made up and I tell Ron. Honestly, why I never pictured the two of you together before is a mystery."

"It was because…" He couldn't think, couldn't remember. All the things he'd done in school seemed so damned trivial now; he could only think of the Draco he knew now. The one that lived in the charming flat and talked to Teddy about bugs and dirt, the one who was trying to raise his son without prejudice… His breath hitched and Hermione swiped at him, brushing imaginary dust off his chest.

"Exactly." Pleased with herself, Hermione shoved him to the door. "Now go and fix this since it was all your fault in the first place."

Offended, Harry's expression morphed into something much more indignant and normal. "It was not."

"Are you trying to infer that it was mine?" came the pointed question that Harry quickly answered in the negative and fled the room.

But Draco wasn't in his office. Annoyed, the wizard spun on his heel and went striding down the halls, looking this way and that. Where was he? Where the hell had Draco disappeared to? And holy god, of course. Of course he would be standing in the middle of the goddamn entryway of the Ministry looking so angry and pompous and so Draco.

The entire area was crowded, of course, a quick glance at the time informing him that it was around lunch. He quivered, but now wasn't the time to lose his resolve. Hermione had been right, of course. He'd messed this up; he had to fix it.

"Draco," he called, and the blonde turned sharply away from the witch he'd been scolding.

"Potter," he greeted, only because it would've been rude and suspicious not to.

Harry wouldn't be deterred. He walked directly to Draco, who made to turn away, but the witch he'd been berating had fled already. Draco's face was carefully schooled into a cold, emotionless expression. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, I did. Still do." And his hands went to Draco's hips, jerked him close, and locked their lips together. It took Draco a moment to allow his mind to war with itself. He was still furious with Potter; Harry was blatantly snogging him in the middle of the busy entryway.

Eventually, the half that was completely gone for Harry won and had Draco's arms snaking around the brunette. On a groan – why had he been denying this for a damn week? – he let his lips part and allowed Harry's tongue to assault his.

If people were stopping to gawk or else running off to spread gossip, it was entirely lost on the two of them. Harry had forgotten his objective and only reveled in the taste of Draco, the feel of Draco's body pressed tightly against him. Draco had entirely forgotten why he'd been angry with Harry in the first place; Valentine's Day seemed like it had been years ago… centuries. All he wanted, all either of them wanted, was to stay locked together for an eternity and damn the world around them.

The world around them, however, seemed intent on breaking into their reunion. "Bloody hell, Harry! If you're going to make an arse of yourself and molest Malfoy in the hall, could you at least do it when I'm trying not to eat?"

Harry ended the kiss with a jolt, but his hands didn't move from where they'd slid beneath Draco's cloak and Draco's hands didn't move from where they'd driven themselves beneath Harry's shirt. Glasses askew, he looked at the blurry figure blearily. "Ron?"

He felt Draco pulling away, held fast. "Potter, I believe you've made enough of a scene."

"I haven't even started to make a scene," he muttered, reaching up and shoving his glasses in their correct position and fixing a glare on Ron, who was eating a bag of Muggle potato chips with a mildly interested expression. "Why aren't you panicking?"

"What, about you liking blokes? You and Hermione never remember that I shared a room with you for seven years. Well, six and then the seventh in a tent. I only saw you like two girls that entire time, and you chose really boyish girls. Cho was a giggling idiot and sort of pretty, but she had a boy chest. And then Ginny? Blimey, can you get more of a tomboy? I mean, you never even looked at Hermione and her chest is like…" He made a movement with his hands to demonstrate the proper size and shape of Hermione's attributes.

Harry was gaping, but a sleek smile was forming across Draco's mouth. "No objections then, weasel?"

"Not really, ferret-boy. Unless you decide to hurt Harry in some way; then I'll have to kill you." He turned on Harry, who was still gaping with shock. "Anyway, Harry, why were you stupid enough to go on that blind date of you were already with this arse?"


"Yes, Harry, do tell."

Harry looked between Draco and Ron, his mouth closing and his eyes narrowing a fraction. "Ron, you're a prat. Draco, I love you and if you ever shut that door of yours in my face again, I'll break it down. Now I have blasted paperwork to do." He disentangled himself and stalked off, but not before hearing Ron and Draco trade parting insults. In the hall, though, Harry was ambushed.

Arms wound around his waist, a body pressed itself against his back, a warm mouth was at the base of his neck. "You said you loved me. You bloody snogged me in front of everyone and you called your weasel a prat."

"Should I have called you a prat?" The sharp bite he received at that made him laugh. He turned, gathered Draco up in his arms and held on. "I'm sorry. Alright? I'm not… I'm not ashamed of you or anything like that. I didn't tell them because I didn't want anyone to judge this, Draco. Everything I do seems to get plastered all over the damn papers. You can bet someone took a picture of us snogging and it'll be headlines. Your father will be in an uproar."

"I really don't care whether or not my father approves of me shagging the Chosen One. I really don't care who approves or who judges. The boys don't mind, your silly weasel doesn't appear to mind and if Granger's stupid grin is any indication, she doesn't mind either."

"It's not a stupid grin," she replied primly, brushing past the two of them. "And it's Weasley now, Draco. Or you could switch to Hermione since you're so proud of the fact that you and Harry are shagging." She gave Harry's shoulder an amused squeeze. "And Ron and I would be happy to watch Teddy and Scorpius for the night," she added just before disappearing around the corner.

Draco pushed Harry into his office, shut and locked the door behind them, and bent Harry over his desk, smiling perversely when it scattered the mounds of paperwork. "I say we take her up on that offer. What do you say, Potter?"

"Grand idea, Malfoy." He cupped his former rival's – his former sworn enemy's – cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. "I love you, Draco."

An unmistakable flash of embarrassment flitted into Draco's eyes, chased with pleasure. "I love you too, Harry. I love you more without your trousers on."

"That can be arranged," Harry mused and they were locked together and soon lost in each other.

Yes, this is the last of the series

Sorry, but no Teddy or Scorpius in this last part

But now you get Ron and Hermione!

And, really, is anyone else tired of Ron FREAKING out every time Harry comes out of the closet (it happens in just about every fic I read)? There are some things you just can't hide from your bff!



Maybe I shall write more Drarry in the future *suggestive brow waggle*