A/N: I wrote this a LONG time ago (I think before book 6) and just never posted it, so it might be just slightly AU. And they might be just slightly OOC. No harm meant! Just good ol' fashion Harry/Draco fun!
Disclaimer: Don't own them, cuz if I did, I'd never have them leave the bedroom!!
--
I'm not saying that it is the weirdest case I've ever handled. No. Definitely not the weirdest. But it is a strange one.
Now, as one of the best couple's counselors in London, I pride myself on handling each one of my cases with complete seriousness and a high regard for rules. And I don't judge.
So when those two men came to me, I was happy to take them; I really wanted to help--they looked like such a cute and happy (if not a little dysfunctional) couple.
At first I thought that one had cheated on the other (I had even made a little bet with my secretary that it was the blonde one) and it was going to be just like the other 2,510 cases I've had concerning infidelity. But, to my immense surprise and delight, they proved me wrong.
And it may not be the weirdest case I've ever handled, but it certainly is the most interesting one I've had in a while.
--
The door to her office opened softly, the dark-haired man's head appearing cautiously. "Are you ready for us?" he asked.
The woman peered over the top of her glasses at the clock hanging on the wall and smiled. "Right on time, Mr. Potter," she said brightly.
Returning the smile, the young man opened the door the rest of the way and came into the woman's office. A tall, thin, pale man followed behind him, wringing his hands nervously.
The counselor stood up and proffered her hand to the dark haired man. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I'm Elizabeth Watkins."
"Hello, Ms. Watkins," the man greeted, shaking her hand.
She smiled. "Call me by my first name, Mr. Potter."
His polite smile turned into a grin. "Only if you do the same for me," he bargained. Then he turned around to face the man behind him, who was eyeing the therapy room distrustfully. "This is Draco Malfoy."
Elizabeth extended her hand to the blonde man, smiling. Unlike Harry, though, he did not take it but instead looked up at the clock that hung on the wooden paneled wall.
Not being deflected, Elizabeth gestured to the sofa in front of them. "Why don't you two sit down and make yourselves comfortable?"
Harry nodded a thanks and went to the sofa, taking the blonde man by the hand to follow him. Elizabeth took her seat in the armchair across from the two, a coffee table the only thing separating her from her clients.
As the two got situated, the therapist noticed how the blonde's eyes kept wandering to the clock, and the skin of his hands looked chaffed from the rubbing.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Can I get you two anything?" she asked, more out of habit than anything else: she always asked her patients if they needed anything. "Something to eat, or drink?"
Harry shook his head politely, snapping his fingers softly.
Over the years Elizabeth had come to read people fairly easily. And fairly well. She noticed the nervous habits and could practically smell lies. Which made her such a good therapist. And poker player.
"Mr. Potter--" she smiled in apology, "Harry, excuse me. There is no need for you to be nervous. Everything that goes on here is completely confidential." She glanced over at the dark haired man's partner and smiled warmly. "The same goes for Mr. Malfoy as well: the problems between the two of you will be worked out here, and nothing will be discussed of our sessions outside of this room--" Elizabeth was cut off by a bark of laughter from Harry.
"That's not what he's worried about," Harry said to her while the other man glared at him.
Elizabeth sat back in her red leather armchair and took a pencil out from behind her ear, opening her notebook to a clean page. "What is he worried about, then?" she asked.
Harry looked over at Draco. "Go on, tell her," he urged the blonde man.
Draco just scowled at him.
"He's worried about his dog," Harry answered the therapist.
Elizabeth frowned. "His dog?"
Harry nodded, sitting back against the cushions of the sofa in grim happiness as Draco muttered curses at him under his breath and looked at the clock on the wall again.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Malfoy," Elizabeth said, being sure to direct her speech to the blonde man. "What does your dog have to do with the problems between you and Mr. Potter?"
"It has everything to do with them," Harry answered, looking at his partner with something close to disgust wrapped in love. Elizabeth had seen that look too many times to call it anything else but tolerance. "The dog is why we are here today."
Trying to keep the frown off of her face and out of her voice, Elizabeth shook her head slightly. "Your dog is why you need couple's counseling?" she asked in a skeptical tone.
Harry nodded and frowned over at his partner.
Elizabeth nodded as she scribbled in her notepad. "Now, when exactly did these 'problems' with your dog start to occur?"
--
It was not Harry Potter's day.
After defeating the Dark Lord at the age of sixteen, one would think that a meeting with your boss five years later would be a walk in the park.
Well, one would most definitely be wrong.
Harry loved his job, truly loved it. It was something that he liked to do and he had no qualms about his future; his position in the ministry paid him well enough to provide a comfortable living style. And it was easy. For him at least.
Of course, becoming an Auror after having defeated the most evil wizard on the planet as a teenager would make it so.
But today--of all days--had not been his day.
A department meeting was held earlier that day; the minister wanted to check on the division and be sure that everything was running smoothly--he did not want to have the ministry running the same way Cornelius Fudge had back in The Dark Days, as they had been called.
So the department had planned. And planned. And planned some more. As one of the top Aurors, Harry had been given the responsibility of filling out most of the paper work and making sure it was all presentable for the minister on the day of the meeting.
And so Harry had worked. And worked. And worked some more. And as the day of the meeting drew nearer, he was sure he was ready; the paper work was filled out and filed; the speeches were prepared and rehearsed to perfection. Not one rock had been left unturned.
But the night before the meeting, Harry had gotten into a fight with Draco about muggle home appliances. And it hadn't been pretty.
In the three years they had been together, they had never fought that bad. Or over something that stupid.
It was mostly Harry's fault, though, and he knew he was to blame. When he had gotten up to go to work the day of the meeting--the morning after the fight--Draco had been up already, and ignoring him to an extreme extent.
As Harry walked to work, the entire time his mind was on his boyfriend and their argument.
And all during work.
And as the time approached for the meeting, Harry was still fixated on the fight. An immense feeling of guilt wracked his body and all during the beginning of the meeting Harry worried if Draco would leave because of the stupid things he had said the night before.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of forgotten statistics, fumbled speeches and disorganized paperwork.
Needless to say his boss hadn't been too pleased.
But all that mattered to Harry was the end of the day. When he could go home and apologize to Draco.
And when the end of the day finally came, Harry rushed out of the ministry...
...And into an ocean being emptied over London.
So Harry began walking home, ignoring the fact that he had barely stepped into the rain and he was already soaked, and the squishy noises his wet feet made inside his shoes.
And that little dog that had been trailing him ever since he had left the ministry.
As the rain continued to pound down, the little dog caught up with Harry, moping along side the man as he continued to ignore it all the way to his flat. At the door, Harry fished around for his keys as the little puppy began to whine and cry in a pathetic sort of way, pawing lightly at Harry's pant leg as the rain made its coat stick to its too-thin frame.
Looking down at the dog, Harry sighed when he made contact with the big black eyes. Puppy-dog eyes, he thought with a smile.
He didn't really understand why he did it, but before he knew it, he had picked up the dog and was staring at it at eye level. There was something about the loneliness in its eyes; abandonment and need. It reminded Harry vaguely of something that made him uncomfortable. Not wanting to think about what he was doing, Harry put the key in the lock and opened the door, stepping out of the rain. He squished his way up the two flights of stairs to his flat and opened the door to his apartment.
Once inside he made his way into the small kitchen and began to look around for something to feed the dog. For its part, the animal kept still, silent now, but trying to burrow its way closer to the warmth of Harry's body.
There was leftover sandwich meat in the refrigerator. Some sort of deli ham that was quiet expensive, and Harry silently cursed the dog as he fed the animal from his hand.
What a pitiful little creature. Harry grimaced. It was plain, ugly and--most obvious of all--smelly. The hand that was wrapped around its shaky, thin body felt gritty against the wet fur, and, when Harry moved a finger away from the fur and looked at it, it was covered in damp dirt. There was nothing for it; he'd have to give the dog a bath.
He walked into the bathroom and didn't set the dog down until he had closed the door; there was no chance in hell the dog was going to get loose and run around the apartment in the disheveled state it was in.
Over at the tub, Harry turned on the taps and made the water comfortably warm. He then looked over the selection of bath gels that were lined up against the wall; all different scents and all expensive and romantic. Well, anything was better than the wet-dog smell, even if the dog was running around smelling of that particular scent that reminded him about that one hot night with Draco a few weeks ago….
For its part, the dog seemed to enjoy the bath. It happily frolicked around the ceramic bottom of the tub as Harry tried to get the shampoo over its entire body. Little yelps of pleasure emitted from the tiny animal as Harry massaged the lather into its fur, wanting to be sure that it penetrated the fur completely, and the dog bounced through the water, splashing Harry.
When he was done, Harry glanced down at the water. It was brown.
Harry sighed and unplugged the drain. Then he turned the taps back on and ran the dog under the water again. A tiny stream of water ran off of the dog, still brown but more clear than the water that had sat in the tub. Harry had to run the dog under the tap at least three times before the water ran from its body clear.
Drying the dog was a feat unto itself. He tried to do it by hand, holding the dog in one arm, but the dog squirmed too much and he nearly dropped the animal more than once. After the fourth near slip, Harry put the dog down on the floor and pinned it with one hand while the other rubbed the towel through its fur. But it was taking too damn long.
Sighing, Harry reached into the bathroom closet and took out a hair dryer. By the time Harry was done, the dog was a ball of fuzz. Still not being completely dry, Harry opted to leave the dog in the bathroom until Draco came home. He reached to open the door just a tad, only enough for him to slip through.
But the front door being opened distracted him momentarily, and the puppy pushed past his legs, yapping a warning that was, literally, more bark than bite.
Harry quickly ran after the small dog to try to catch it before it reached Draco. He hadn't even gotten to the hallway, though, when he heard his lover's voice.
"What the hell is that thing?!"
Rounding the corner, Harry stopped to find the little puppy trying to jump into Draco's hands (and, if Draco only held his hands out a bit, almost succeeding) while the blonde man gave the creature the strangest look Harry had ever seen on the normally placid face.
"I-I'm so sorry," Harry began to stammer. The dog began to bark happily. "About everything. About last night and about the bloody dog..." Harry had to almost shout to be heard over the high-pitched chirping of the poofy-haired dog still trying to jump into Draco's arms.
Draco gave the animal a look of careful consideration. "What is this?" he asked, not looking at Harry.
Feeling rather hurt that his apology was not even acknowledged, Harry looked away from Draco and mumbled, "A puppy."
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Draco put down the small bag he had been carrying to replace it with the dog. Daring a glance at the other man, Harry noticed that he had the strangest look upon his face.
Holding the dog close to his chest Draco took a step forward, the look of sentiment even more apparent on his face as he got closer. "You got me a puppy?" Draco asked in that small, sickeningly happy voice people adopt when they are on the verge of crying out of happiness.
Truth be told, Harry was slightly taken aback. He hadn't intended for Draco to think the dog was a present--hell, he had picked it off of the streets, for crying out loud! But since it seemed to momentarily 'bury the hatchet' between the couple, and Draco looked so happy--and cute--holding the skinny, shaking animal, Harry decided to just grin widely and nod his head in a pleased kind of way.
The look on Draco's face crumpled into sheer pleasure and he rushed forward to grab the smaller man in what would definitely qualify as a 'bear-hug', murmuring endearments into Harry's ear as the dog held in between them tried to lick Harry's chin.
Draco broke away from Harry with a huge grin on his face and turned towards the kitchen, murmuring to the dog in baby-talk about a big fat dinner and noting how nice he smelt. Harry, a little nervously, followed them into the kitchen.
"I already fed him, Draco," Harry told the man, a little nervous about the wide smile that was plastered onto his lover's face. He had never seen Draco look so happy for so long--especially over an animal.
"I love you, Harry," Draco answered from across the kitchen, the puppy's tail hitting the back of Draco's jacket with a dense thwack as it happily wagged the appendage, held securely in the crook of Draco's elbow.
Harry smiled serenely and blew a kiss to his boyfriend, frowning as the dog tilted its head upwards and began licking at Draco's chin, acquiring a sharp laugh of happiness as Draco walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room, leaving Harry alone with the feeling that he had done something terribly wrong in keeping the puppy.
--
Later that night, when everyone had been fed (the puppy once more), Harry and Draco lay curled around each other on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket.
"Harry?"
Harry lifted his head from Draco's shoulder, allowing his hand to keep tracing invisible designs on the blonde's back. "Yeah?"
"What should we name her?"
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Her?"
"Yeah." Draco's voice sounded small in the silence of their home. "I checked earlier and I'm pretty sure it's a girl."
Harry smiled slightly, leaning heavily on Draco and wrapping the blanket tighter around them. "You checked? How did that go over?..."
Draco grinned also, glancing at the puppy on the wooden floor just below the couch. "One of the weirdest things I've ever done," he admitted. "But I'm happy she's a girl."
Harry continued to draw circles across Draco's back as he closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, happy that their earlier argument was over and forgotten and Harry was forgiven, all with the minimal amount of 'sorry's' muttered on his part. "Why are you happy the dog's a girl?"
"I always wanted a little girl," Draco answered lazily, drifting off to a light, peaceful doze. "What do you want to name her?"
Harry thought for a minute. "How about Princess?" he asked. Beneath him he felt Draco's body shake with laughter.
"'Princess'?" Draco repeated, his voice mocking.
"What's wrong with Princess?" Harry asked, faking indignation.
"We might as well just call her Fluffy and give her a pretty pink bow as a collar," Draco answered.
Harry sighed in exasperation, the sound stirring the small puppy that was almost asleep on the floor beneath the couch. "What do you mean?"
"Princess is such a common and corny name," Draco explained. "I want her to have a good name. One that suits her."
In the safety of the area behind Draco's shoulder where vision could not reach, Harry rolled his eyes. "Does it really matter?" he asked, his voice light and playful. "She's just a dog, after all."
And that was where the trouble began.
--
"So, what kind of problems did your dog cause, Harry?" Elizabeth asked, the sound of her pencil scraping across the pad louder than it should have been in the still room. Harry blushed slightly and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Elizabeth put on her "reassuring smile", as she called it, and tried to soothe the young man's anxiety. "Harry, it's quiet all right to feel uncomfortable talking to a stranger about the problems between you and those you love, so I want you to think of me as a friend and talk to me without feeling embarrassed, because I'm here to help." Then she waited. That little speech always got her clients feeling guilty.
Harry relaxed visibly and looked over at his lover. He gave him a sad smile, almost apologetic, and then turned back to Elizabeth. "Well," he began, striving for control over his embarrassment, "we've been arguing more. And we don't spend as much time together."
Elizabeth nodded her head and continued to write. She was about to ask Harry to continue when Draco scoffed noisily. The counselor turned to the blonde, who looked like he was about to talk for the first time since the couple came into her office. She patiently waited.
"That's not true," Draco said, mostly to Harry, while Elizabeth continued to write in her pad.
"How could you say that's not true?" Harry asked, the couple so involved in their argument that they forgot about Elizabeth for a moment. "We fight everyday over that stupid dog and you never want to go out anymore because you're afraid of leaving it by itself."
"Well we wouldn't have to fight everyday if you wouldn't be such a prude about her. And we can't leave her alone; she just started eating solids! Do you want to come home and find little puppy-pellets all over the house?!" Draco sat up straighter and turned to face Harry, temporarily forgetting the time and his worries about his dog to fight with his boyfriend.
"See!" Harry practically yelled, turning to Elizabeth. "We're always fighting like this now! And I'm sick and tired of it!" He looked down at his lap. "I just want to spend time with Draco. Like we used to."
Elizabeth turned to Draco to see what his reaction to this show of sentiment would be. The blonde man had the grace to look ashamed, blushing slightly as he turned away from his lover.
"Draco," Elizabeth began softly, "What do you have to say to Harry about that?"
Draco gave the counselor a momentary look of annoyance and then turned to Harry. "I--I'm sorry." Harry turned to look at his boyfriend. "I guess I have been a bit preoccupied with taking care of Lita. But since you never help out with her, I have no time to--"
"Never help out with her?!" Harry asked incredulously. "She's a bloody dog!! It's not like you have to change her diaper and feed her every four hours! All you need to do is put left-overs in her bowl and she'll eventually shit them out on her own!"
"Oh, that's very nice," Draco muttered darkly.
"How the bloody hell am I supposed to help out with her when you won't even let me feed her!"
"Well, maybe if you actually wanted to feed her, instead of being forced into doing it!! What will she think if you're just shoving food under her nose while wishing that you're doing something else?!"
Harry stared at Draco for a moment before shouting, "She's a dog!!" and turning to Elizabeth for help.
"Listen to me, both of you," Elizabeth interrupted. "Your time is almost up, but what I want both of you to do until our next meeting is write down the topic of every argument that you have from now until the day after tomorrow. I want you to bring me the notebook that you write down your arguments in and we will talk about them in our next session." She stood up and Harry and Draco followed suit. "Now, Harry, just for a couple of days, I want you to try to feed your dog without anger or irritation. And Draco, I want you to put time aside each night to spend with Harry--and only Harry. It doesn't have to be too much for now, just talk and don't mention your dog in any way." Elizabeth extended her hand to Harry. "It was a good session, gentlemen, and I look forward to seeing you in two days."
Harry took the proffered hand and gave Elizabeth a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you for seeing us, Elizabeth."
As Harry and Draco walked out of the office, both client and therapist let out heavy sighs of relief and exasperation.
--
"Draco, the therapist said that we should be spending time together without that dog," Harry once again tried to instigate the beginnings of a romantic evening, giving the poofy-haired mutt tucked under Draco's arm a look of loathing.
"I think Lita might be sick, Harry. She's not eating." Draco held a tiny treat up to the dog's mouth. A little pink tongue flicked out to lick the treat, and then automatically retreated back into the puppy's mouth, leaving the treat behind in Draco's fingers.
Harry sighed. "Merlin forbid the dog not eat its nightly two meals an hour," he muttered under his breath, following Draco around the kitchen.
"Do you think she's okay, Harry?" Draco stopped in front of the stove and started bouncing the puppy slightly in his arms. "Is the tiny puppy okay," he began to croon to it, putting on what Harry had officially dubbed his 'jack-ass' voice. "What's wrong with the little puppy-wuppy?"
Standing across from Draco holding a tiny pet carrier, Harry rolled his eyes. "Come on, Draco. Just put it in here for half an hour. This way you won't have to worry about where it is or if it crapped all over the new carpet. And we can talk to each other for a while. I mean, I know it's not the Ritz or anything, but I hear they put a tiny indoor pool in the newer models of the Pet Taxi's."
"Harry, how could you want me to stick Lita in that thing for an hour and just go into another room to talk when she's sick like this?" Draco tried once again to get the puppy to eat the treat, but her tongue didn't even dart out this time; she just ignored it.
Harry put the carrier on the floor looking dejected. "I only said half an hour, Draco. But if that's still too much to ask from you--"
"Harry, she really doesn't look well at all," Draco held Lita up to his face and looked in her eyes. Lines of worry wrinkled his smooth forehead and he looked close to tears. "I want to take her to the vet."
"Draco," Harry sighed. But the blonde had already left the room. Harry heard keys jingling by the front door and walked out of the kitchen. "Its eight o'clock, Draco, no vet is going to be open this late." His voice was small and he didn't make eye contact with his boyfriend as Draco moved to open the door.
His hand still on the doorknob, Draco turned towards Harry. The silver watch on his wrist told him that Harry was right and he sighed. "What do I do then?"
Harry bit his lip and looked up at Draco. "Come sit down with me?"
"But Harry, I--"
"I know, Draco," Harry began. He was so tired of all of it and all he wanted to do was lay down with Draco curled around him and sleep. "I know. But I just want to talk to you." As he saw Draco open his mouth to protest once more he quickly continued, "The dog will be fine! It probably ate something it didn't like. Just half an hour and then you can check on the dog again and if it's still sick then we'll call the animal hospital or something."
Draco sighed in defeat and walked back towards the kitchen. Harry hid a smile as he turned around to grab the pet carrier and held it up to Draco. It looked like it physically pained him to put the dog in the tiny cubicle, but he kissed her forehead and secured the tiny wire door shut.
"We'll leave it right here in the kitchen, okay?" Harry took Draco's hand as he placed the carrier on the floor. "We'll be in the next room if anything happens. It'll be fine." He tugged Draco over to the hallway and towards the living room. The dog whined slightly and Harry felt Draco's hand pull against his own, but he held fast. "She'll be fine. See? She's already stopped crying."
Draco nodded his head and allowed himself to be led towards the sofa. The two men sat down on it and Harry turned to look at Draco. "Okay, half an hour," Draco mumbled to himself and looked over at the clock on the VCR above the TV.
Harry frowned as he noticed Draco's gaze wander over to the clock, but didn't let his anger show: now was the time for him and Draco to actually talk, not argue.
But as the two continued to sit there, Harry began to grow slightly uncomfortable. There was something hanging between them that hadn't been there in almost four years, since they first decided to become friends in seventh year: Awkwardness.
Harry could have cried because of it. It felt so awful. Mocking, almost. And he knew that Draco felt it, too, but all the blonde could do was stare at the stupid clock.
"See," Harry began. He moved closer to the other man, brushing his outer thigh against Draco's. "This isn't so bad, is it?" His voice was deliberately soft and he leaned towards Draco, making his hair fall into his eyes as he lowered his head and looked through his fringe.
Draco's gaze broke away from the clock and he shook his head and swallowed as he stared at Harry, seemingly torn between keeping eye contact with him and going back to the clock.
Harry knew what he was thinking. Even before the dog had come, it had been a while since they had...well. Their fight the night before Harry's presentations had been instigated because they were both edgy and full of tension, and there had been a period of four or five weeks while the puppy got...situated before Harry finally thought that they should see a couple's counselor about their problems.
Seeing that the ploy was working as well as anything Harry had tried over the past few weeks he decided to stick to it. If Draco's eyes had finally been pried away from the clock at least Harry knew he had his attention. But two months was just too much, even for Harry.
Slowly, he lifted a hand and brushed Draco's fringe out of his face. Wide grey eyes met his and Harry couldn't stop from leaning forward and catching Draco's lips against his own.
They had kissed often, even with all the fights. They made it an unofficial rule to kiss each other every morning before leaving and when they came home, even if they were angry. It was usually quick pecks on the cheeks or chastely on the lips. But this was something different. They hadn't shared a kiss like this in almost as long as they hadn't made love. And it showed.
Harry didn't know if he had pushed Draco back onto the couch or if Draco had pulled Harry down on top of him, but it didn't really matter. Not when Draco's hands were touching every part of him they could get at, or scratching at the buttons on his shirt. Not when Draco was tugging at his body and arching up to met his skin. Not when his own fingers were sliding over smooth, cool buttons and soft, silken material.
His body was pressed flush against Draco's, the pillows of the couch surrounding them as they lay on the cushions. The heat radiated off of both of them and Harry knew that if this was going to happen, it wouldn't last too long the first time.
That didn't seem to matter, either, what with the entire night in front of them.
Skin met his hand as Harry finally got Draco's shirt unbuttoned, and he heard the blonde gasp beneath him. He bit down slightly on Draco's neck and made him arch up sharply. His hand slid down over the soft flesh of Draco's stomach, gripping the waistband of the dark jeans that sat around the pale hips and running his fingers under them, his fingernails tickling the white skin.
"Harry..."
Draco's voice was breathy and disoriented, and Harry knew that he was thinking of only one thing. Which was why he thought that if he ignored the sharp barking that suddenly began to emanate from the kitchen, Draco wouldn't notice it either.
He kissed Draco hotly, gripping the tiny zipper in between his thumb and forefinger and pulling it down to release Draco's erection. Draco made a soft sound in the back of his throat and Harry's hand reached out to stroke the hard flesh.
"Harry, is that--?"
A loud crash rang noisily through the apartment, sending Draco sitting up so fast Harry toppled off of him and onto the floor in a heap. Before Harry could say anything Draco was up and running into the kitchen, open shirt flapping at this sides and pulling his unbuttoned jeans up as they slipped off of his slim hips.
"Lita, what in the name of Merlin did you do--?"
Harry sighed heavily and sat up, gripping the edge of the couch to pull himself off of the floor. He began to redo the buttons of his shirt as he walked to join Draco in the kitchen.
Entering the brightly lit room, Harry could see the ten pound bag of name-brand dog food lying on the floor. A wide tear shredded the thin paper and tiny kibbles lay in crumbs and pieces all over the white-tiled floor.
"Lita!" Draco yelled and raised a hand to smack her bottom. The puppy cowered, shrinking into herself as though the movement would make her disappear. When Draco hit her soundly, she hunched over and peed freely, leaving a shining, stinking puddle of sharply yellow liquid that contrasted obscenely against the bright, linoleum tiles.
"Son of a bitch, Draco!" Harry covered his face with his hands and tried to stay calm.
Draco hit her again and shouted the words "No!" and "Bad dog!" sternly over and over again while the puppy whimpered rather pathetically as it huddled in the corner and Draco proceeded to clean its mess.
"Draco, I can't do this anymore," Harry paced the kitchen, staring down at Draco, on his knees, wiping the pee and picking up the hundreds of kibbles that lay scattered over the floor like clumps of mud. "That dog needs to go, I can't take it anymore!"
Draco glared up at him from his position on the floor. "Look, Harry, I take care of her, so I don't think that you really have a say in the decision."
"When it's peeing and making a mess in my house, I think I do!!" Harry yelled. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the puppy scuttle back into the pet-taxi.
"She's not going anywhere, Harry." Draco stood up defiantly and spoke in low, assured tones. He met Harry's gaze and stared the other man down.
Harry sighed once again. "Draco, she's a hassle! We can't--"
"I already got mad at her, Harry. She'll learn! You can't expect her to just know what's right and wrong instantly! She needs to learn!" Draco threw the napkins away and dumped the kibbles he had gathered back into the bag, reaching into his pocket for his wand and muttering a 'reparo' spell to mend it up.
"No, Draco, she won't learn; she's just a stupid dog who is ruining our lives."
"Only because you're letting her! Give it some time; she's just a baby! She doesn't know yet, but she will. All she needs is just a little bit of time!!"
"She can have all the time in the world--outside of my house! I'm going to sleep, Draco! When I get up, I better not see that dog in here. Don't forget that we have an appointment with the therapist tomorrow and I'll be damned if you try to miss it to spend time with that bi--"
A sharp sound resonated around the room as Draco slammed his wand down on the counter. He stared at Harry darkly, anger plainly showing through on his face. "Don't."
Harry turned towards him, whispering fiercely, "If you love that dog so much then you sleep out on the terrace with her, I don't want you next to me tonight."
And he left the kitchen, shutting the door to his bedroom violently. And he lay awake all night on his bed, fuming over what had happened and blaming it on anything he could.
And Draco did not come in.
--
The air was sticky and humid, heavy with unshed dew and smelling of wet dirt and moldy leaves. They had spent that one day in between their appointment with the therapist fighting when they should have spent it seeing how much they didn't need the therapist at all.
Well, suffice it to say that it was clear now that they did need the bloody therapist, no matter what Harry told himself.
Since they had moved in together they had never spent the night apart like that. They had always put off their fights for the morning, or stayed on separate sides of the bed. But they had never thrown each other out of the bedroom or told the other what Harry had told Draco last night.
He felt horrible. It had been a terrible night and it was turning out to be a terrible morning. Harry didn't know where Draco had slept last night, but it wasn't in their bedroom--if it had been in their flat at all. When he had gotten up to go to work Draco had been outside eating breakfast on the patio table that adorned the terrace, Lita running merrily from one side to the other, chasing a butterfly.
Draco had seen him walk by the sliding glass windows, Harry knew he had. But they ignored each other for the rest of the morning until Harry had to go into work. He stood in the living room for a full five minutes waiting for Draco to come back inside and tell him goodbye--at the least--but the blonde never did, and Harry was late for work waiting for him.
At half past ten Harry left the ministry and walked towards the little office down the street that belonged to their therapist. As he entered the cool, dimly lit waiting room, the only thing he noticed was that Draco wasn't there.
"Mr. Potter?"
The voice cut through Harry's thoughts and he could only nod in answer to the secretary behind her little wooden desk.
"Ms. Watkins will see you now."
Maybe Draco was in the room already. Maybe his watch was just late. Maybe both Draco and Elizabeth had begun talking, and Elizabeth had shown Draco what an ass he was being. Maybe...
He opened the door to the office to find the sun shining brightly through the thin curtains, flooding the white-wash room in a sheen of pale yellow light. And no Draco.
"Mr. Potter, nice to see you aga--where is Mr. Malfoy?" Elizabeth had gotten out of her chair and extended her hand toward Harry. He barely noticed.
"We had a fight last night, and I said some things..."
Almost immediately Elizabeth had her pad out and she and Harry were sitting in their respective places. "What was the fight about?"
Harry gave her a look that said quiet clearly 'could it be anything else?' but answered anyway. "The dog."
"What instigated it?" Elizabeth's pencil scratched the pad soothingly in a rhythmic cycle.
"Well, I tried to get Draco to spend half an hour with me, like you said we should try. We put the dog in a carrier so that we wouldn't have to worry about it, and then we went to the living room to talk."
"Did you get to talk to each other at all?"
Harry blushed, even as Elizabeth spoke. "Well...yes, in a way."
Hearing the uncomfortable tone of Harry's voice, Elizabeth looked up from her pad to see the young man blushing nicely, trying to huddle into himself on the couch. She took a moment to appreciate the sight; it seemed Draco knew how to pick them. Harry wasn't gorgeous per say, but he was definitely a looker, and there was something else about him that made you look twice. Maybe it was his eyes. Or the raw power that seemed to emanate from him. His untidy hair gave him a boyish charm that was attractive all on its own and his muscles showed quite well through his thin cotton, button-down t-shirt.
Clearing her throat, Elizabeth tried to force those thoughts from her mind; gaping at her clients wasn't why she was here. "What do you mean 'in a way'?"
Harry's blush darkened and he fidgeted nervously, avoiding eye contact. "See, we, sort of, began to...er, I mean, we were in the middle of--no, it would have eventually--but, then the dog..."
Elizabeth smiled warmly, watching the flushed look on Harry's face flourish nicely. "Harry," she said calmly, hoping to save the man any further embarrassment. "You don't have to be so nervous when you talk to me. I know what you mean." The smile grew as she saw that Harry's blush did not leave. "So, you were making love--" Harry shook his head vigorously and blushed even deeper, but Elizabeth chose to ignore him, "--but then the dog did something and you had to stop. What did the dog do?"
"We were in the living room just fooling around--I mean, it would have eventually led to that--but then the dog started barking and Draco left to go see what was wrong with it--in the middle of...doing that!! Naturally, I got mad, you know?"
Elizabeth nodded her head and looked down at her pad, the eraser of the pencil in her mouth. "And how long has it been since the two of you have had sex?"
Harry gagged at the abruptness of the question and reddened once more. "Er...a while. Maybe two, two and a half months."
The pencil began to write again. "And this is due to what?"
Clearing his throat, Harry looked down at his hands and tried to get through this part of the conversation without having all of his blood rush to his face. "Well, in the beginning it was because we were both busy with work and all, and then, after we got the puppy, Draco was afraid of leaving it alone for a long period of time, but he didn't want her in the bedroom either; he said it was weird."
Elizabeth continued to nod her head and write in her notepad. "And how often were the two of you having sex before those two months?"
Well, it didn't look like his blush was going to go away for a couple of weeks. "Er, I'd say...probably...every couple of days...or, just, whenever we...felt like it..." He would never be able to look her in the eye again.
Elizabeth wrote the information down in her pad, putting two and two together in her mind already. She knew how uncomfortable it could be for some people, answering these types of questions, but, in some cases, it was needed. She desperately wanted to ask him who bottomed, but thought that might be too personal and Harry might see it was not relevant to the case. Still, twenty bucks to her secretary said that she thought it was the blonde one.
On that subject...
"So what did you tell Draco when he left?"
"I told him that the dog was just a hassle and I didn't want her in my house anymore."
"Your house? Is it solely yours?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably, knowing where she was going. "No...we both began paying for the bills as soon as Draco moved in. And we split the housework and stuff like that."
"So then Draco must not have liked hearing you say that."
"Probably not."
"And then what did you say?"
Harry looked down at his hands again, but this time the movement was due to shame. "And then I told him...that I didn't want him near me if he was going to act like an ass with the dog around, and to go and sleep on the terrace with her if he loved her that much."
He heard Elizabeth 'tut'ing over the scratch of her pencil. "Well, you know what you said wrong, don't you, Harry?" she asked.
Harry nodded, blushing out of shame this time. He knew it was wrong of him, but Draco had just gotten him so mad...
"I know that you think your words were justified, and maybe they were, but if you want your relationship with Draco to work, you are going to have to be the bigger man for the moment and bend to Draco's will. I know that he is being irrational, but right now let's focus on trying not to give him a reason to complain about you, all right?" She smiled warmly, finally setting her pad and pencil on the coffee table in front of you. "So, Mr. Potter. Tell me what you think you should be doing..."
--
He entered his flat afraid. Actually afraid. Afraid that Draco wouldn't be there, afraid that he would be there, afraid that all of Draco's things would be gone, afraid that the flat would be empty and alone and desolate. The fear knotted and sat in the middle of his stomach, refusing to move or leave, creating a nauseous feeling.
The door creaked open like some cheap horror movie as Harry opened it slowly. The interior hallway was dark, but he could see a light on in the living room. He walked lightly, sure not to make a noise and alert Draco to his presence before Harry wanted him to know.
He stood in the entrance to the living room. Inside he saw Draco sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Lita on her back--paws playfully striking the air--next to him. Draco sat cross-legged, shoulders slumped and head down. His hands were folded in his lap and Harry saw that they shook, even from where he was standing.
Harry knew that he was crying. He hadn't spent three years with Draco without knowing that when Draco cried, he didn't make a sound. It was the small jerk of his hands, the shake of his shoulders. The soft sound of his tears falling onto the starched and pressed material of his shirt collar and pants.
Quietly, Harry walked into the living room and behind Draco. He crouched down next to the man and put his arms around Draco's neck. His head fell onto Draco's shoulder and he inhaled the scent of his lover.
Draco didn't turn around, but raised his hands up to grab at Harry's arms around his own neck. He turned his head as far as he could and planted a kiss on the top of Harry's head, setting it softly in the nest of black curls. Tiny drops of cold tears fell onto Harry's forearms and he lifted his head and moved Draco to face him. He brought his hands up to cup Draco's cheeks and kissed him firmly, rubbing the trail of tears that streaked palely down Draco's white skin with his thumbs.
"Draco...I'm sorry for saying that last night. I love you and I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have you beside me. I'm so sorry." His own voice cracked and he buried his head in the crook of Draco's neck.
He felt Draco's arms tighten their hold. "I'm sorry, too. I just couldn't go into that room and talk about our problems with a complete stranger. It's just too personal," he whispered into Harry's hair.
"I know, Draco, I know that it's uncomfortable. And I'm sad that it had to come down to this, to a stranger fixing our problems. But I didn't know what else to do. I was so scared I would loose you if I didn't do something to help us. I still am..."
Draco's arms tightened around his neck almost painfully. "No, Harry. I'd never leave. I'd never leave my family just like that."
His own arms tightened around Draco and Harry wondered for a second just what Draco meant by 'his family'. It was only him, and they weren't yet married. But he still answered, "I wouldn't either," rubbing Draco's rigid back through the material of his shirt.
"Harry, what are we going to do? We're so screwed up..."
Harry smiled, pressing a kiss into the side of Draco's neck. "No, we'll get through this. I talked to the therapist today and figured out what I needed to do to make things easier around here. And I will try, Draco. I promise."
Draco lifted his head to look at Harry. He wasn't sure how long the blonde had been crying, but his eyes were red and puffy, looking raw and sore. His nose was also rosy and swollen, and somewhat forlorn-looking in his pale, perfect face. Harry reached a hand up to tweak it gently and smiled as Draco leaned forward cautiously; he had always been self-conscious about himself when he was crying. Harry's smile grew and he quickly closed the distance between them, immediately opening his mouth under Draco's lips.
--
Harry blinked groggily as the sun filtered painfully through his closed eyelids. He tried to turn his back to it, but found that his arm was trapped underneath something warm and heavy. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that he was spooning up tightly to Draco, and that the two of them were curled up on the floor of the living room. The throw blanket from the couch had been pulled down to cover them.
Groaning at the soreness in his muscles, Harry softly pulled his arm out from under Draco's neck. He glanced up to the VCR clock. 10:00. They still had two hours before their meeting with the therapist and Harry intended to spend as much of that time as he could watching Draco sleep.
Last night had been good. Hell, compared to their usual nights, it had been great. He was definitely telling the therapist about the gigantic improvement. The kissing hadn't really gone as far as Harry would have liked--he knew that he couldn't push it--but it was still more than he had got in two and a half months without complaint or interruption.
There was a rustle of blanket from the other side of Draco and Harry looked over to see the dog curled up in a ball along the slight curve of Draco's stomach. Draco had an arm thrown lovingly around it.
Harry scowled; that damn dog was everywhere. There was simply no respite.
Harry fidgeted, uncomfortable without actually knowing why. He started to get up deciding to start the day off by making breakfast for Draco. He untangled his limbs from the blanket carefully, not wanting to wake Draco yet, and walked softly around the sleeping blonde, where there would be more room for him to make it from the living room to the kitchen. What he didn't intend on was the dog's tail being so damn long, and just casually placed in the middle of the floor.
When he stepped on it the dog gave a pitiful, yet horrendously loud, yelp and jumped up. Harry, caught completely by surprise, lost his balance and fell to the floor with a heavy, painful thump. Draco sat up immediately, sleep forgotten.
"What happened?" he asked. But before Harry could answer a small whimpering began, and Draco looked around for Lita.
She was huddled under the coffee table, making the most pitiful, pathetic noises.
"What happened?" Draco asked again, getting up and crawling across the floor to the dog. Harry sat in a crumpled pile on the floor, watching Draco and the dog. "Harry, what did you do?"
Harry ruffled indignantly. "I accidentally stepped on her tail, Draco. It wasn't--"
"You what?!"
And there it was again. That anger, that uncalled for fury. Harry didn't know what to do with it. Should he cower under it, fight against it, ignore it? He had tried all of it and nothing seemed to work.
"Draco--"
"See," Draco said, gathering Lita into his arms and standing up. "Its shit like this, Harry, that put us in that office. Why do you do it? You say that you hate getting me mad, but you always find some way to piss me off!"
Harry stood, too. "I didn't do anything, Draco! It was an accident! And why do you automatically think that I would want to see you turn into a complete and utter bitch every day of our lives?!"
Draco turned around and stormed out of the room. Harry followed him into their bedroom. Draco rummaged in the nightstand drawer, still carrying Lita in one hand, and only pulled it out when he had his wand tightly in his grip.
For a moment Harry tensed. Long forgotten and forgiven memories jumped back at him and Harry realized that his wand was feet away from him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm gonna go, Harry."
That stopped his heart even more than the thought of Draco cursing him did.
"What?"
"Get out of my way." And Draco was shouldering past Harry, out the doorway into the hall and towards the door.
"Draco--!" He reached out, but Draco brushed the hand away violently.
"Piss off, Harry."
"You can't just--"
"Why not?" Draco demanded as he turned around and glared at Harry. The dog sat very quiet and very still in Draco's arms. "Tell me why I can't."
"Because," Harry said, unnerved that he had to defend their relationship to the person who was in it. "Because I love you!"
Draco stopped in front of the door. "If you really did love me, you would understand this."
"I do understand it, Draco," Harry answered, voice angry and hurt. "I understand that we're spending 150 an hour for couples counseling that we wouldn't even need if it wasn't for that dog! It's tearing us apart! Why can't you get rid of it? It's just a dog!!"
Draco turned around, hand already on the doorknob. His face was flushed with anger and the hard glint in his eye reminded Harry of their early years at Hogwarts. "No, Harry! It's not 'just a dog'! Why don't you get that?!" He turned back to the door and stormed out, slamming it hard enough to make the cups in the kitchen rattle.
--
He couldn't believe how things had gotten so bad. There had only been two hours in between the time they had woken up and the meeting with their therapist, and he had somehow managed to ruin their three year relationship in that short period.
No, not him. That dog.
Harry cursed and pulled his coat over his shirt, getting tangled in it and running out of his flat and down the street. He had sat on his couch for a long time, thinking about what had happened, and now he was late for the meeting with his therapist. He only hoped that Draco would be there.
As he jogged down the sidewalk he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands. The sun sat high and heavy in the sky and reminded Harry of days he had spent with Draco on holiday. Only now he was a block away from a couple's therapist's office, wondering if his boyfriend would meet him for their arranged appointment.
The cool air of the office building hit him softly as he pushed open the doors to the therapist's. Her little secretary behind the desk smiled at him and nodded towards the office door. Harry hurried towards it, hoping that Draco would be there, waiting for him, wanting to apologize...
Sitting on the small love seat across from Elizabeth was Draco, the pale sunlight filtering through the window curtains played across his face and caught in the furrows of his brow and the frown-lines of his forehead. He was dressed in different clothes and looked more groomed than he had when he had left that morning, courtesy of the wand that he had taken with him. He was there, at least, but it didn't look like he was willing to apologize.
"Draco!" Harry wanted to rush towards his boyfriend, but the look on the blonde's face told him to keep his distance.
Elizabeth stood up politely and extended her hand towards Harry. "Harry, we were just waiting for you so that we could begin."
Harry took her hand and sat down on the edge of the love seat, as far away from Draco as the furniture allowed.
"Mr. Malfoy was just telling me about the little...mishap the two of you had before you came here." Elizabeth took out her pad and pencil and began to scribble on it. "It seems that our talk the other day didn't work out too well, did it Harry?"
Harry blushed slightly but didn't answer.
"Okay, so what we need is to first get each of you talking about what is bothering you. So, Mr. Malfoy, since we've heard Harry's complaints, would you like to go first?"
Draco cast a quick glare over his shoulder towards Harry and then back at Elizabeth. "If you paid very much attention at all, you'd see that I'm not the one with the problem. He is."
Elizabeth stopped writing on her notepad and looked at Draco primly. "Mr. Malfoy, I don't believe that anyone here has 'a problem'. But I'm sure that there are things that Harry is doing at the moment that are bothering you, and I'd like you to tell me about them." She picked up her notepad once again and waited for Draco to begin talking.
"The only thing that bothers me is that he doesn't seem to understand." Draco's voice was small and he refused to lift his eyes away from his hands sitting in his lap. Harry had the sudden urge to hug him fiercely.
"I--!" Harry began, but was cut off by Elizabeth's 'tut'.
"Now, Harry," she began calmly, still scribbling in her pad. "What is that is bothering you?"
Harry's shoulders slumped and he cast a sideways glance at Draco. "I just feel like I'm loosing him to that dog. And I know that it seems stupid, but if you ever saw us, you'd think it too."
"I'm seeing you now, Harry, and I know." Elizabeth stopped writing for a second and looked up at her clients. "To you it seems like you're loosing Draco, and to Draco it seems like you don't understand, but I want you both to know that I'm going to help you push through this so that you both can get your life together back. But now I need you to talk to each other about these problems you are having." Her face was a mask of serene calamity that soothed Harry in a way that surprised him, and gave off the appearance of the most trustworthy person in the world.
Knowing that Draco was too proud to begin on his own, Harry took it upon himself to begin their conversation. Shyly, he turned towards the blonde and, with his gaze lowered, said, "You've just...changed so much since you got that dog." His voice dropped and he felt hot tears prickle the corners of his eyes. "I'm starting to doubt your feelings towards me."
For a moment Draco could do nothing but stare at Harry, devastated. Then the words bit in and he turned away from the pain and hurt in the green eyes.
"Draco?" Elizabeth's voice cut into the stillness. "Do you have anything you want to say to that?"
There were a million things he wanted to say to that. There were a million excuses he could give for his behavior. And there was a reason. But he couldn't seem to get any of it out.
"I just...I just want you to understand..." Even Elizabeth's pen had stopped moving and Draco's voice sounded feeble in the quiet room.
"But I don't, Draco!" Harry sat rigidly on the edge of the sofa, desperately wanting to give his hands something--anything--to do, because it would help distract him from his feelings. "I don't understand any of it and you won't talk to me! You won't help me understand!"
"No, you've just never wanted to!"
Their voices began to rise and a faint flush had crossed Harry's cheeks, a telltale sign that he was angry. Elizabeth began writing again, scribbling shorthand on the yellow sheets of her notepad.
"How could you say that, Draco? All I've been trying to do for the past month is try to understand, but you keep pushing me away! All you care about is that stupid animal! You don't give a fuck that you're tearing us apart!"
"Harry!" Elizabeth cut in, her voice stern; she was never one who believed in the use of profane language to get a point across. "Both of you calm down, now. Let's look at this objectively. Obviously, this dog means something to Draco--" a sudden sound from Draco cut her off, but she glared at him and continued, "and all we have to do to figure this out is get you, Harry, to see the dog on the same level as Draco."
Harry glanced between Elizabeth sitting rigidly in her chair and Draco staring down at his hands in his lap, a slight blush infusing his cheeks and making Harry frown in confusion. "But I don't understand--"
"I know, Harry." Elizabeth sat forward in her chair and threw her notepad on the table in front of her; it hit the top with a dense thwack. It was the first time Harry had seen without it in her hands. "I know that it is confusing, but I'm going to help you understand. I'm going to help Draco explain the whole thing to you step by step."
And now Draco was staring at Elizabeth as if even he had no idea what she was talking about, though Harry was sure that he did.
"All right," Harry stated in a business-like tone. He sat up straighter in his chair and turned his attention completely to Elizabeth. "Explain this to me. That way I can know and I can fix it." At his words, he saw Draco hunch into himself, as if he knew just how selfish he was being by forcing Harry to fix all of their problems.
Across the sofa from Harry, Draco spoke up, his voice feeble and just as confused as Harry's had been earlier. "But I don't even know how to--!"
"I know, Mr. Malfoy," Elizabeth said, her voice soothing and calm. "That's why I'm here: to help you. Now, we are going to start with you turning towards Harry and looking him straight in the eye." She paused for Harry and Draco to do as she said.
Harry wished she hadn't asked that. Anything but that right now. He could barely keep his eyes fixed on Draco the way she wanted; he looked so small and broken. His eyes had that glossy sheen they acquired whenever he was trying his hardest not to cry, but the tip of his nose was turning red, a sure sign that the tears were inevitable, and the grey eyes were wide and clear, the hurt and anger showing through.
He wished that he could hold Draco at that moment, wished that he could take them far, far away, to a place where they would be happy. He wished that he had never let that damned puppy follow him home that day, wished that he had never cleaned it and took care of it, wished that he had never loved Draco enough to want to do everything in the world to make him smile, even if it meant giving him that puppy.
"Now," Elizabeth's voice broke through Harry's thoughts, "Draco, tell Harry how you feel about Lita."
There was a moment where Draco hesitated, but he took a breath and broke eye contact with Harry as he started speaking, and then locked eyes again. "I love her. And I mean love her. The same way that I love you. She means as much to me as you do, and--" he stumbled, trying to find the right words. "And I see her as..." he trailed off, and Harry waited patiently for him to finish his sentence, even though he was still confused and slightly angry again.
How could Draco possibly love this dog as much as he loved Harry? It was a dog!! The dog didn't provide for Draco; the dog didn't love Draco like Harry loved him. It was just a dog...
Elizabeth made a tiny gesture encouraging Draco to continue, but the blonde had shrunk into himself again; he was done speaking. Harry sat quietly, patiently waiting even though he was itching to talk--or yell.
"Draco, has your love for this dog taken away from your love for Harry in any way?" Elizabeth asked, prodding an explanation out of Draco, even if he didn't want to explain it to Harry himself.
Draco shook his head emphatically. "Of course not!"
"So this dog has acquired a separate love of her own, one that stems from the same feelings you have for Harry, but is for a slightly different reason?"
Draco frowned slightly at her, confused for a moment. "I think so."
Elizabeth seemed to switch tactics when she realized that she was confusing Draco more than she was stealing an explanation for Harry from him.
"With both of you being in a homosexual relationship, you know that the chances for a family are slim; Draco, how does this make you feel?"
There was a definite quiver in Draco's hands now, and Harry felt a momentary flare of self-righteous anger directed towards Elizabeth; how could she bring up this matter so lightly?! He was just about to tell her to stop this type of discussion when Draco's voice suddenly broke through the quiet room, harsh and full of his emotions.
"I love Harry! I love him so much it scares me! And it kills me that we will never be able to have children together! All right? Is that what you want to hear me say?"
Harry stared at Draco in disbelief. They had talked about this subject in passing over the years, but never with as much feeling as this; he had never heard Draco speak of this particular topic in such a straight-forward manner, and he definitely didn't expect for Draco to be so blunt with a complete stranger. Draco was angry; Elizabeth had obviously jumped on his last nerve. A good way to get Draco talking. And now Draco was going, and his words offered the explanation that Harry had been waiting months for. He sat, shocked, in his chair as Draco continued to rant, the volume of his voice rising slightly in his effort to control his emotions.
"It kills me that we'll never be able to make something tangible and real out of our love, something to show the world what we mean to each other. It kills me that I will never be able to give him a family, something he's always wanted! It hurts to think that somebody else can and I'm just keeping him from it."
Draco paused for a moment to catch his breath, and Harry noticed the tremble in his shoulders, and the way his voice caught in the back of his throat as he finished speaking. But he took a breath and continued, ignoring the imploring look that Harry was giving him and speaking to Elizabeth, because it was easier to tell this to a stranger than it was to tell this to Harry.
"When Harry handed me that dog after our fight, I saw his love for me. I saw his love in this living, breathing, growing thing. Lita is something that can grow and change and endure with our love, just like a child would. She is something that we can nourish and raise and teach together. That's what I saw when Harry handed her to me. That's what I see now! And it hurts to see Harry treat her that way. It hurts to see him treat her like she is nothing to our relationship. Because she is! She's a huge part of our relationship! She's it! Our love made tangible and real, completely dependent on our love to survive--not just our love for her, but our love for each other.
"And what makes it even worse is to see how happy she is around him, and then to see him push her away. It hurts me because it hurts her and it hurts him and I love them both too much to do that to either, but I could never choose between them, and it feels like Harry is pushing me to do that sometimes. I know its stupid to think of her that way, but I can't help it. Because she's already established herself as the first new edition to us. Our family."
Our family.
The words sat heavy in Harry's head. His family. He had a family. They were his family. Both of them.
He couldn't look at Draco at the moment. Couldn't stand to see the tears trail silently down his flushed cheeks; the hurt and truth behind the grey eyes.
God, he was such a pillock. All that time together, and all he could see was pee-stains on the kitchen tile and a black fur-ball lying in between them late at night, keeping Draco away from him. Keeping them apart, when it should have brought them closer together. If only Harry had let it.
This time the blame for everything came rolling in, and, for once, Harry was happy to take it all. Because he knew that this was his fault. He had been trying to blame the dog, Draco, anyone except for the only person who had been fighting to make things this way. At a complete and total loss, he turned towards Elizabeth, looking for something, anything--guidance, help, reprimands, anything at all--that would keep him from drowning in the feelings that this new-found information brought.
"Harry." Her voice was soft, comforting, and he could see Draco, his head down, huddled into himself at one end of the sofa. "Do you understand?"
Of course he understood. Understood what he had been doing to Draco, understood what he had been doing to their relationship. He understood perfectly and clearly, and he wanted to let everyone--especially Draco--know with a long stream of conscious and intelligent words, but all he could do was nod.
He understood.
"You two need to talk. At home, by yourselves. I don't need to be there for that." Elizabeth stood and offered her hand Harry. He took it, still dazed, and she led them out of her office and up to the door of the building.
"If my assistant has to set up another appointment for you two," she said companionably, opening the door for them, "I'm going to be very upset." She smiled at them as Draco walked past her, head still down and started down the street, but her smile softened as Harry moved past her, and she gave him a quick hug that promised everything would be all right now that the big epiphany had hit.
They didn't talk as they made their way home. If Harry stopped mulling everything over in his head, he would have noticed that the silence was awkward and stale, and it made Draco think certain things on his own right. But Harry was too busy trying to finish understanding.
As they entered their flat, the sound of whimpering and muted scratching greeted them. Lita locked in her pet carrier in the corner of the kitchen, courtesy of Draco's wand once again. Harry guessed that Draco had apparated her back into the apartment once he had left for the therapist's office; where else would he keep her?
Draco gave Harry a quick, veiled look--not entirely lifting his head to grace his boyfriend with a full-face glance--and moved past Harry to get to the kitchen.
Harry followed him at a slower pace. When he reached the kitchen door, he saw Draco with Lita in his arms, preparing her dinner and chuckling softly as she licked his face. It had been a long time since he had heard Draco laugh, or seen him that happy.
No, that was a lie. He had seen Draco happy, he had just been too jealous and angry to appreciate the sight, the way Draco's eyes lit up when he was truly happy, and the small crinkles that Draco used to complain about in jest that graced the corner of his lips and eyes. In Draco's arms, Lita struggled playfully to be nearer to her food. He lightly caressed her head, his fingers moving to stroke behind her ears unconsciously as he finished mixing the hard food with the canned chicken and gravy.
Standing there, staring at Draco carrying Lita, Harry studied them. With one quick, decisive movement, he was across the kitchen, behind Draco, reaching for the dog before he even knew what he was doing.
Shocked, Draco handed her over instantly. Harry had never, he was positive, held Lita without extreme distaste or grudging acceptance. And now he took her from Draco lightly--as though he was afraid he might hurt her--and he held her close to his face and studied her, a strange look in his eye.
Right next to Draco, probably closer than they had been in a long time, Harry held Lita and tried to find what it was about her, what it was that made Draco feel the way he did about her. He tried to see her as Draco saw her. He tried to feel her deep and sweetly light love for him. He tried to find his love for her—whatever had made him open his door that day, whatever made him hand her over to Draco, where he knew she would be warmly cared for.
He tried to feel the beat of her heart though her thin, brittle breastbone and fluffy, thick fur that smelt slightly of dog.
And if he stood still and closed his eyes and opened his senses, he could. He could see her as Draco saw her. He could feel the strength of Draco's love for her, how it matched the love he had for Harry, even after the stupid things he had done. But most prominent of all was the love she felt for him. The honey-warm love that seemed to spew out of her, this lovely little creature that knew not how to discriminate or judge. That knew only that she was well cared for and that she was a part of something special between the two men who cared for her.
And he loved her. He always had, and he always knew it. He just never let himself fall as completely as Draco had. He had kept his feet planted a little too firmly on the ground.
But she was theirs. She was theirs and he had given her to Draco with a heart full of love. And she had grown up with them and learned from them. And he would want to pamper her just as much as Draco would want to show her off, although he never let on and forced such thoughts out of his mind. Because she was theirs. His. Draco's. Together.
Yes, he finally understood. He turned to face Draco, and a smile played at his lips. With one arm, he reached out and brought Draco closer to him, pulled him against his body. And they stood there together, all three of them. As a family. Finally.
--
The sun was bright for a winter day. The rare kind of seasonal day when the weather just called for a stroll down town. The streets were crowded, and the chill in the air was dampened by the heat of the blaring sun.
Elizabeth walked briskly along the walkway, shouldering past the crowd in as dainty a manner as she could. She had walked to a lovely little Italian restaurant for lunch and was now on her way back to the office. Just as she was about to cross the street, a little child ran in front of her, so suddenly that Elizabeth could not slow down, and the two ended up bumping into each other. The child stumbled backwards, and Elizabeth reached out to stop him from falling. The boy grabbed Elizabeth's hand tightly to catch his balance and looked up at the woman he had run into.
Elizabeth smiled warmly at the child. His big blue eyes and long, sandy colored hair accented his chubby face and when he smiled back at Elizabeth, there was a gap where one of his two front teeth should have been.
"David!" A man, whom Elizabeth could only assume to be the boy's father, came jogging towards them, slightly out of breath. Elizabeth smiled at him, prepared to take the blame for the child when she stopped dead.
She remembered that hair. If there was one thing in this world that Elizabeth was good at, it was remembering her patients. Especially ones that were as good looking as Draco Malfoy.
"Mr. Malfoy?"
Draco looked up at the woman who he had taken his son's hand from. "Ms. Watkins?"
Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "How have you been?"
"I've been…great." He smiled. "Oh, this is my son, David." He blushed slightly, and looked down towards the ground. "Harry and I adopted him a few months ago."
Now that was a shock.
"You don't say," was all Elizabeth could manage. "So you two are still together?"
Draco's eyes lit up almost instantly. "Yes. We worked everything out after that one day in your office. It took a while, but we got past it and everything."
"That's so great! So how is Lita doing?"
She remembered every single case she had ever worked on. Every detail about them. Even more than year later she still remembered the name of the dog that had nearly split Draco and Harry apart. She also remembered how happy she thought the two could have been once they worked past their differences. And it seemed that they had, and Draco did look happy. But as soon as she mentioned the name of his dog, his face fell, and there was a sadness that crept into his eyes, desolate and shining.
"Lita actually contracted cancer a few months after we last saw you. She passed away. And that was when we decided to try to adopt a child."
For a moment Elizabeth was stunned. Lita died? She knew it was slightly silly, but she felt deeply for Draco, and for Harry. She knew what that dog had meant to Draco, and knew it must have been terrible, for both of them. She was slightly surprised that they had gotten through it by themselves, and hadn't come back to her. Happy, but still surprised, seeing as how fragile their relationship would still have been around that time. But they must have felt more secure with each other than she thought they would have that early on.
"I'm so sorry, Draco," she said, raising her hand to offer a friendly pat on the man's shoulder. "So where is Harry today?"
"He's actually inside that little office supplies shop up ahead," Draco answered. He smiled at Elizabeth once again, a wide, happy smile that practically dared anyone to argue with it. "He's seeing about some invitations for a little…ceremony we are going to have."
"A ceremony?" Elizabeth asked. And then she took in the wide, bright smile and the look of complete happiness in Draco's eye. "You two are getting ma--" she stopped herself before she could finish and blushed slightly.
Draco laughed and shrugged, rolling his eyes slightly. "Well, we're getting as close as anyone ever can. It's more like a," he searched for the words, "declaration of our love and devotion in front of our friends and family." He laughed again. "At least that's what the invitations say." Beside him, David pulled impatiently on his hand, trying to make his way towards one of the sidewalk vendors who was selling candy.
"I'm very happy for you, Draco," Elizabeth said, smiling down at the little boy.
Harry and I would love for you to be there, Ms. Watkins." The smile softened and Draco became serious. "Guest of honor. No excuses. It's at the end of the month; we'll send an invitation to your office before the end of the week."
"I would absolutely love to attend the ceremony, Draco." Elizabeth leaned in and hugged Draco tightly. "I'm so very happy for you two. You look wonderful. Stop by the office some time," she said, and then caught herself. "But not for help," she finished with a smile.
And as she walked away, she knew that she wouldn't have to worry about seeing those two sitting in her room, submitting to another bout of interrogation; if they had made it out of the hole they had dug themselves into a year ago, they could do anything.