Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed this, and been so patient along the way! This is the last chapter, but it's certainly not the end of the tale. I've got more planned for it, and when I find free time again, I will have those written out and posted ASAP. In the mean time, enjoy!
The pressure from the shower is the most heavenly thing, Draco's decided, leaning against the slick tiles as the water pounds onto his back. It wears away the build-up of aches and pains that have accumulated over the course of their journey.
They're now in the northern part of Spain, Zaragoza to be precise, having found no leads at all on the whereabouts of Narcissa in either France or Italy, or anywhere else they've gone, to tell the truth. Draco's weary of false trails; it seems like that's been all they've been following.
With a sigh, he shuts the water off and steps out of the shower, Summoning a towel and wrapping it around his hips. The room is filled with steam, the air holding a slight jasmine scent from the bath products. He inhales it greedily before opening the door and exiting in a cloud of steam.
They were lucky with the hotel; it holds a great view of the river, and Draco had managed to persuade the teller to give them a discounted price. He hadn't told Harry that part, though, as he doesn't think Harry would approve.
Entering the main room, Draco sees Harry standing outside on the balcony through the glass door. He is leaning on the railing, looking down over the city and the river, the rising sun giving his hair a soft glow. Draco takes a moment to appreciate the fact that Harry had come with him, that he has been here for when Draco needed him.
Draco approaches soundlessly, leaving the door open in favour of wrapping his arms around Harry's middle, resting his chin on a shoulder. Harry turns his head a little, just enough so that their cheeks touch.
"Thank you for coming with me," Draco says. His breath makes a stubborn strand of Harry's hair dance before it falls back into place. He knows he's said it before, knows what Harry's response is every time he says it. But he doesn't think that he's fully expressed how truly thankful he is that Harry has joined him.
As expected, Harry takes his hands off the railing and places them on where Draco's are laced together on his stomach. "You wouldn't be able to get rid of me if you tried. 'Sides," he continues, and Draco perks up; this is new. "I don't think I could have stayed there for too long after everything. It's a bit... much."
Draco chuckles, and pulls away until he's leaning back against the railing, facing Harry. "That's putting it lightly."
Once it had come out that Harry Potter, long lost hero extraordinaire, had returned and that the Second Wizarding War was finally over... well, the press had gone completely mental. Draco thinks they must have published at least four different papers the first day alone. It wasn't much better when they had left, a mere two weeks after the battle, just enough time to see that everyone was healed properly and put to rights, for wizarding society to get back onto its feet.
"You'd better get used to it," Draco had teased him.
As it was, Draco is quite pleased they were out of the country for awhile too. Not only was he able to spend however much time he wanted with Harry – a lot – but he was also able to be at ease and relax fully for what felt like the first time in far too long.
There was only one problem.
Despite all the digging they had done, all the questions asked and trails followed, they always seemed to be late arriving to the spot where Narcissa had last been seen. It was like chasing smoke, Draco thought, constantly slipping away when you thought you had it.
It was frustrating, Draco thought, and there were days where he didn't think they should continue. He'd gotten angry on far more than one account, ranting about it to Harry, on far too many occasions in Draco's opinion.
"So, where are we off to today?" Harry asks, casting a sly look over at Draco. "We have a couple of days still left here."
Draco hums and says, "I may have made a reservation at Casa y Tinelo."
Harry grins at him, shakes his head, and leans over to press a kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth. Draco's having none of that, though. His hand comes out to grab a fistful of Harry's hair, pulling him into a proper kiss and tugging on the strands the right amount to angle Harry's head and make him gasp with pleasure.
Draco could easily spend hours snogging Harry; the give and take, the playful nips and caresses and teases. The way Harry's tongue feels like it's mapping the inside of Draco's mouth, the little puffs of air exchanged between them and the ones Draco feels lightly ghosting over his cheek. It's addicting.
Draco's towel is in danger of falling off, but he can't find it in himself to care. Harry's hand is on his chest, resting so very close to his nipple and if he shifts just a little bit –
"I think we'd better get inside," Harry says breathlessly as he tears his mouth away from Draco's. Draco nods and allows himself to be drawn back into the room, shutting the balcony door behind him with his foot.
His towel is gone as soon as the door clicks shut, his fingers already pulling at the ties to the loose dressing gown Harry is wearing. "I had planned a small trip out for the afternoon," he says. "We'll be late for it." But he ducks his head and begins to shower Harry's nape with kisses, intermingling them with soft nips and sucks.
"Then we'll just have to be late," Harry says as he shrugs out of the gown.
Draco – who's never late for anything if he can help it – finds he doesn't mind in the slightest.