Chapter 10

Kingsley sat behind his desk, laughing as tears rolled down his face, while Draco looked at Harry with his mouth open in shock.

Harry blushed and shifted uncomfortably.

Finally, Kingsley pulled himself together enough to speak. "You really dressed as You-Know-Who to make Malfoy and Parkinson confess, just so you didn't have to use Veritaserum?"

Harry sipped his tea, humming quietly. "Well, I couldn't risk them being poisoned in the courtroom, and I didn't think Draco would be happy with me if I beat the confession out of them." He glanced at the older man and quickly added, "Which is illegal and I would never have done something like that, 'cos morals, and stuff. Besides, I figured that if they were ranting about the Dark Lord being back then they were more likely to end up in St Mungo's than Azkaban. I thought Draco might prefer that."

Draco's lips twitched, then pursed. "Wait, you said Weasley was Polyjuiced into me?"

Harry nodded uncertainly.

"Please tell me you didn't let him wear my favourite trousers."

Harry winced.

Draco scowled and muttered into his teacup. "Always knew he wanted into my pants."

Draco lay in Harry's bed, relaxing into the strong arms wrapped around him, letting his mind drift in a post coital fog.

It was good to be home.

He couldn't really remember when he started thinking of Harry's place as home, but he did, and he was rather content with the fact. Harry's was very different from the Manor, completely lacking in elegance or any semblance of luxury, but it was warm and comfortable and he loved it.

He'd barely made it in the front door before Harry had torn his clothes off and hauled him into the shower, muttering that Draco 'smelled wrong'.

Apparently prison soap did not complement his natural scent.

Harry had lathered and massaged every single inch of skin, twice, and only turned the water off when Draco demanded that he stop before Harry washed the blonde's skin off completely. He'd then been rubbed dry and hauled into bed, only for Harry to continue his pampering by giving Draco a thorough full body massage, not stopping until the pale man was deeply asleep and drooling inelegantly on his pillow.

All in all, it was a wonderful welcome home.

"Harry?"

He received a relaxed hum in response.

"Can you stay with me for a few days? I know you need to get back to work and everything, but I really need some time to recover, and you make me feel safe." He could feel the blush on his cheeks, and didn't bother to fight it. He remembered his promise to Weasley, and had every intention of keeping it.

He supposed if Harry knew he might consider it manipulation, but he thought that Harry would understand. It was worth the risk.

Harry rolled slightly so he could peer into his lover's grey eyes. "Of course. I'll stay as long as you need me to."

He couldn't resist dropping a small kiss on the tip of Draco's nose, and grinned at the light thump in the ribs he received for his troubles.

They lay in silence, listening to the faint thump of music from the gym downstairs. Harry had done an excellent job when he remodelled the building; the sound was muted and barely noticeable.

Draco's eyes prickled, and he sniffled slightly, trying not to draw Harry's attention. His brilliant plan was for naught though, when the tears he had been trying to supress dripped onto Harry's chest.

"Draco? What's the matter?" Harry's voice was quiet, and Draco couldn't prevent himself from burrowing into the supportive warmth under his cheek.

"It's only just sinking in."

"Your father?"

Draco nodded. "I knew he was unhappy, but it's difficult to process that he cared more about the family line continuing than me as his son. That he was so ashamed of me that he was willing to go to those lengths. I'm just glad Mother didn't know anything about it. I don't think I could cope if she'd been involved too."

Harry pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Draco's head, pulling him closer.

"I don't know about wizards, but muggles have a way of artificially inseminating a surrogate mother. If you wanted to have a biological heir you still could."

Staring up at the calm green eyes above him, Draco tried not to gape.

"What? How?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know the specifics, but you jizz in a cup, then they take it, and do stuff, and hello baby. No girl sex required."

"You're joking."

"Nope. We could look into it if you want, if that's something that appeals to you."

Draco paused thoughtfully. "I really don't have to have sex with the woman? I know you don't object to it, but I personally find the whole concept of girl parts… Icky."

Harry chuckled, managing to contain his mirth to inoffensive levels. Barely. "I promise, you don't have to touch those icky girl bits. You don't even need to see them."

"I'll think about it then. Definitely worth considering." He wiggled slightly until he was in a position to kiss Harry lightly. "I'm still hurt that Father would go so far, but I refuse to dwell on it. It's his loss. Now, on a different topic, you know the press is going to be hounding us now that you've made an appearance again? How do you want to handle it?"

Harry sighed.

"Yeah, I know. I was actually wanting to talk to you about something after Ron and Hermione left that night, but we got a bit side tracked, what with you being in prison and all."

Draco looked up, frowning at the serious look on Harry's face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Draco could feel his anxiety rising, dread curling in his gut. Surely after all this, Harry wasn't leaving? Although Draco's arrest had forced him to reveal himself, something he'd sworn he would never do. Did he feel manipulated into it? Surely he didn't hold it against him?

Harry smiled, pulling Draco closer as he nuzzled his pale hair.

"Nothing's wrong, love. I just had an idea I wanted to run past you."

Draco waited quietly, relieved that his panic had been nothing but paranoia.

"Draco, um, I think my actions recently have made it pretty clear I love you, right? Even though I haven't actually come out and said it yet?"

Grinning, Draco nodded.

"Well, I was thinking of starting a new business, and I was wondering if you might be interested in being partners?"

Draco hummed thoughtfully, then paused.

"Are you wanting me to be the public face while you be a silent partner or something?"

Harry's mouth twitched slightly in disappointment.

"Well, I wasn't, but if that is what you would prefer…" He trailed off uncertainly.

Blinking, Draco examined the man in front of him, noting the tension in his frame. He cupped the stubbled cheek.

"Harry, are you offering to go back for me?"

"Um, well, yes. If you want me too?"

He grunted as Draco scrambled to sit upright, accidentally driving his elbow into Harry's gut.

"You want to come back and start a business together? You do realise that would be something rather permanent, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the teasing tone, and leaned across the bed to rummage in the bedside drawer.

"Well, I suppose I'd better go the whole hog then, hadn't I?" He handed Draco a small black box.

Draco's eyes went wide, too shocked to notice his hands were trembling slightly. He lifted the lid, and stared at the gold toned door key.

"Harry?"

Harry bit his lip nervously. "Draco, will you move in with me?"

Draco's smile could have lit the room as he threw himself on top of the darker man, kissing him frantically.

"Fuck yes!"

Harry grinned happily, kissing Draco back with equal fervour. He managed to grunt out his next question between kisses.

"And the business?"

"What kind of business?"

"Well, I hear there are some pretty good locations for clubs down Music Alley. I was thinking the Wizarding World needs its first Karaoke bar."

Draco stopped his ministrations and stared.

"Are you serious?"

Harry nodded, his hands gently stroking the pale body lying on top of him.

"I kind of think of it as coming full circle, or something equally cliché."

"Alright, but I get to name it," Draco grinned.

Harry groaned.

"I can't believe you named our club Siren Song," Harry grumbled.

Draco laughed at him.

"You're just saying that because most of our patrons are tone deaf and have the rhythm of an epileptic kneazle."

Harry simply glared.

"Oh, cheer up! It's opening night, and we're packed!" He quickly tossed back a shot of flavoured vodka and offered another to Harry.

Muttering to himself, Harry took the shot and threw it back, wincing slightly at the burn. Whiskey was much more his style.

"Now, I have an opening night surprise for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

Draco merely smiled again and turned to face the stage.

"And now for our opening performance of the night, we have a very special guest for you all!" The announcer gushed. "Please put your hands together for the infinitely lovely siren, Thelxiepeia!"

Harry blinked, stunned. He turned and gaped at Draco in awe.

"You got a real siren to sing at our club."

Draco graced him with a smug look.

"And not just any siren, but one of the oldest and most famous. One that personally knew Homer, Suidas, and Eustathius."

Draco raised an impressed eyebrow.

"She's an old friend. I met her several years ago while holidaying in Greece, but when I told her about the club she demanded to come and sing for us. But that's not important right now. You know, I had no idea you were so well read in the classics. I'm actually rather turned on by that little discovery."

He pressed close to Harry, breathing lightly against his ear as he gently teased the lobe with his tongue.

Harry blushed and shifted, trying to hide his growing… interest.

"Knowing that I'm well-read turns you on? Is this another one of those weird kinks of yours?"

Draco hummed happily and continued his ministrations.

"Mmhmm. Now, come with me to the office. I have a problem I need your help with."

Harry gave him a flat look.

"Really? You bring in a real siren, and you expect me to miss the performance just so you can get your rocks off over me mentioning I like classical mythology?"

Draco glared slightly, pursing his lips petulantly. "I'll tell Hermione about your newly revealed reading habits."

Harry blanched.

"You wouldn't."

Smirking, Draco examined his nails. "Are you sure about that? Because I'm sure she would love to discuss the differences between various classical authors and their portrayal of creatures and historical events and how they relate to our daily lives."

Harry whined softly. "Please Draco, no! She will suck all the joy out of it by making me analyse it until it isn't beautiful anymore!"

"Then come with me to the office!"

Harry paused, biting his lip, before smirking in a way that made Draco discretely adjust himself.

"Better idea." He grabbed Draco's wrist and hauled him into a private room off the side of the club.

The room was luxuriously appointed in warm red velvets and dark wood detailing, occasional flashes of silver and forest green softening the otherwise overwhelming colour scheme. The wall to the club proper was a one way mirror, giving them a perfect view of the stage and all the privacy they could want.

Shoving Draco onto the comfortable couch, Harry smiled down at the man that had strolled so casually into his life and made himself at home there.

As the opening bars of the song drifted into the room, the two men fell into each other, gasps and moans the perfect accompaniment to the bewitching music caressing their senses.

"Draco?" Harry whispered, his breath puffing lightly and stirring a few pale strands of hair.

"Mm?"

"Thank you for bringing me home."

Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome, especially ones with a critical breakdown of my work. Go for it, I don't get offended by criticism!