A/N: Well here it is! The end! I hope you like it. I reconflabulated the ending yesterday and I'm feeling a lot better about it. It was only a few sentences worth of change, but it made all the difference in the world, I think.

Friday I'm going to start publishing a story called Starched Cuffs. It's Harry/Severus and yes, it's based on my experience touching Severus' cuffs at the HP Exhibition :P It's silly and fluffy and the tiniest bit angsty and, yes, a touch smutty at the end.

For those of you keeping an eye out, I'm still working on the alternate ending for Unexpected Effects! It's kind of turning into more of a sequel than an alternative ending; it's around 20k words now, which is really not an end very much at all but a full story. I'm not sure how I'm going to publish it, but when it's done it will have first priority!

Anyway, enjoy your end :)

Chapter Eighteen

Ending the Enticement and Entering the Established

35

This time when Harry woke up and reached out, there was indeed a warm body next to him. He smiled to himself and curled up against the warmth. The warmth sighed happily and kissed his shoulder. Harry took a deep breath filled with vanilla and opened his eyes.

"Morning," he sighed.

"Late morning," Draco corrected with a smile. "Much better than early morning."

"I didn't check the time before I came over," Harry replied. "I was sober and the sun was up; that seemed to fulfill your requirements."

"I'll have to learn how to be more clear in the future," Draco said. "Though if it lands you in my bed, it might be worth it."

"Might be?" Harry asked, suppressing a smile.

"We need to talk first," Draco replied. "You had something to tell me, I believe. About not wanting to be courted anymore."

"That's true," Harry said, getting nervous. "Um, well. I like this. Being in your bed, I mean. And waking up with you. And kissing you. And, er, courtship doesn't seem to include those things. You originally said one date, and it's been at least two, though really a lot more than that considering what we've done that weren't official dates. The point was to make a decision, yeah? I've made my decision. And I want you."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, and Harry was shocked to see that he seemed nervous as well. "You're sober and sure?"

"I'm both of those things," Harry said. "As long as you're also both of those things."

"I'm offended you'd think I'd be drunk at eleven in the morning," Draco mocked. "And considering that I was the one who started the courting, I'd say it's obvious that I'm sure."

"Then we're good?" Harry asked, which wasn't what he meant to say because "good" wasn't a qualifier at all, but he couldn't bring any other words to mind.

"Good?" Draco echoed.

"Okay, yeah, that wasn't exactly clear," he stammered. "But, um, so, I'd like to be your boyfriend."

"Mm, no," Draco said, though he was smiling and Harry was relatively certain there was a "but" coming.

"No?" he choked.

"I'm willing to conclude our courtship," Draco continued, "but only if we do it properly."

"I, um, okay," Harry said, not feeling very okay. "How do we do that?"

Draco took Harry's hands, smiling up at him, and Harry had no idea how his eyes were so perfect, because really, nobody had any right to be that perfect.

"Harry, you wish to move forward from our courtship?"

"Yes," Harry replied, still feeling very nervous.

"You accept my offer of—" Draco stopped, and Harry could barely breathe. Did he not want to be together? Was he trying not to hurt his feelings? If it wasn't doing those things, what word was he looking for?

"Draco, if you don't—"

"Shush," Draco interrupted. "I'm trying to decide if I should say inamorato or boyfriend, because I don't think you know what the first word means, but the second is hardly proper."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," Harry said. "Especially if you say it quickly so I stop thinking you're trying to figure out how to let me off easily."

"Don't be an idiot," Draco replied. "Fine, I'll do it your way. Harry, will you go out with me and only me? Be my exclusive boyfriend?"

"Yes," Harry said, letting out a relieved sigh. "I said yes a month ago, and I'm saying yes now."

"Different questions," Draco replied. "Courtship versus exclusivity—"

"Can I kiss you now?" Harry interrupted. "I want you for a lot more than your body, but right now I'd really, really like that body."

Draco laughed quietly. "Yes, Harry. Kiss me all you like."

Harry did exactly that.

36

There were several interesting steps involved in a real relationship.

Like when Draco picked him up at his office for lunch. Harry hadn't realized the implications of such an action until Draco kissed his cheek in greeting, took his hand and the entire office fell silent as they walked out. Ron already knew, of course, and Harry had assumed Ministry gossip had gotten around so the rest of the Aurors knew as well. Evidently that was not true, and by the time they reached the door to the hallway Harry was sick of the staring.

He turned to Draco and gave him a full, deep kiss. That sort of backfired, as he still wasn't used to full, deep kisses with Draco, and he distracted himself, especially when Draco slipped his hands down to his lower back and pulled him closer. This nearly led to some activities taking place in the office in front of all of Harry's coworkers that really shouldn't take place in the office in front of all of Harry's coworkers, but Ron cleared his throat—loudly, and several times, and Harry broke away.

"My point is, we're dating!" Harry said irritably, addressing his coworkers. "You don't need to stare or stop talking! I'm gay, and I'm dating Draco Malfoy."

"Come on, Harry, give the neophytes time to adjust," Draco said, taking his arm. "Evidently they cannot do so while I am in the room, and I'm quite hungry and only have a half hour for lunch."

"See, when you say things like that, it makes people think you're a git," Harry said quietly as they walked to the café.

"And you shouting the obvious after all but mounting me is entirely reasonable," Draco said with a smirk.

"You brought hands into what was just a kiss," Harry replied.

"That was not just a kiss, dear," Draco said, smirk turning into a smile. "But it was sweet, I enjoyed it. If we come out to everyone that way, I'd be pleased. Quite sexually frustrated, but pleased."

"Yes, when we tell your parents that will definitely be how we tell them," Harry said with a smile.

"The point is moot because the papers will tell them for us," Draco replied, a hardened anxiety creeping into his voice. "After that display in your office, the entire wizarding community will know by dinnertime. Thank you, by the way. My parents may know I'm gay, but that's very different from knowing I'm in a male relationship, especially so soon after my divorce, and definitely with you."

"You're okay with that?" Harry asked. "With them finding out via the Prophet?"

"It's certainly preferable to telling them in person," Draco replied. "Though they probably will insist on lunch or something to properly meet you."

"That reminds me," Harry said suddenly. "Double date with Ron and Hermione next Friday."

Draco sighed. "I suppose it's unavoidable. Very well."

"Promise you'll be nice," Harry said.

"I don't even know what to ask you to promise me in regards to my parents," Draco sighed. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

37

They reached that bridge the next day. Draco showed up at Harry's office at ten of six looking paler than usual.

"We're having dinner with my parents tonight," he said flatly. "We've got to leave now so we're not late. My father is a bit of a stickler for starting dinner at exactly six."

Harry upset a bottle of ink all over his reports. "Now?"

"Yes, right now," Draco said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Um, I, er, yeah, sure, just a second," Harry stammered. He waved his wand, cleaning up the ink, and grabbed his coat. "So now? Both your parents? Including your dad?"

"Yeah, that's what the letter said," Draco replied, still sounding in shock. "Come on. The Floo is all the way downstairs, and I don't want to start this off by being late."

"Right," Harry said, following Draco to the elevators. "Okay. I can do this."

"Of course you can," Draco said numbly. "Just don't mention the war, the trials, your job, the Ministry outside your job, anything we said or did while drunk, especially finding me in an alley, especially more than once, that our courtship ended before at least three dates and preferably five or ten, absolutely not that we kissed before the third date, or actually that we've ever done anything beyond kiss, nothing that happened at Hogwarts, any of your friends, the fact that you live at Grimmauld Place, the Greengrasses, especially Astoria and they'll almost certainly bring her up so be prepared to change the topic of conversation very quickly, my mom will probably ask about kids, don't answer that either, there's no right answer, but make sure to tell them we didn't start anything until after she and I separated, and—"

"We're at the Floo gate," Harry interrupted. "Dray, try to breathe, okay?"

"I will not," Draco said. He took Harry's hand, threw the Floo powder in, and said, dejectedly enough Harry was worried they'd come out at the wrong gate, "Malfoy Luxembourg residence."

Harry started the evening by making a fool of himself. He tripped on the way out of the fireplace, slipped on the oriental rug and fell, causing it to slide away from its usual place and bring a lamp crashing down.

"Good evening, Harry," Mrs. Malfoy said pleasantly.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. The bulb had shattered, a pane of Tiffany glass had fallen out of the shade and something ceramic that had apparently been nearby was now in several pieces on the floor.

Draco offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. "Mother, Father, good to see you."

"You as well," Mr. Malfoy said coolly. "Was that my grandmother's ashtray I heard shatter?"

Draco glanced at the floor. "I believe your use of the past tense was entirely correct," he said calmly. "This is Harry, my boyfriend."

"Lovely to see you again," Mrs. Malfoy said, rising and taking his hand. "It's been quite some time."

"Accio ashtray," Mr. Malfoy said tightly, and several sharp pieces of ceramic flew directly by Harry, nicking his ear in the process.

"Hon, you're bleeding," Draco told Harry. "Just slightly."

"Episkey," Mrs. Malfoy said lightly, and the stinging stopped. "There you are."

Draco pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his ear. "You're fine."

"Reparo," Mr. Malfoy said, and ceramic clinked together. "Draco, Mr. Potter is your responsibility. Please see to his mess."

"Of course, Father." Draco ushered them off the carpet and waved his wand in a grand arc. The lamp stood, the glass returned to its slot and the rug righted itself.

The clock chimed six, and a house elf with very large ears popped into the room.

"Dinner is ready!" she squeaked.

"An unnecessary interruption," Mr. Malfoy said, again very coolly. "I am aware of the time."

"Daisy is sorry, sir!" she squeaked. "Daisy will go now!"

The ashtray flew past Harry again and landed on the edge of the mantel.

"Let us continue on before the food gets cold," Mrs. Malfoy said. "We will be eating in the main dining hall."

"Wonderful," Draco replied, taking Harry's arm and following his parents out of the room. "I have been resigned to the kitchen at the Manor; the dining room is simply too large to be comfortable on my own."

"Mr. Potter does not keep you company?" Mr. Malfoy asked. "Given your proclivities, I would have expected you to have christened the dining room by now."

Draco's grip on Harry's arm tightened. "Don't be ridiculous. Harry and I have been nothing but proper, haven't we, dear?"

"I'm sure you have," Mrs. Malfoy said. "I hope you're in the mood for Éisleker; we had been preparing it for our anniversary, but since our son is in a new relationship and did not bother to give us proper warning, we had no choice but to reassign it."

"I'm very sorry, I know how important your anniversary is to you," Draco said. "I suppose you'll be forced to go out to eat, which I know how you despise."

"Do not talk back to your mother," Mr. Malfoy said sharply.

"Ever so sorry," Draco replied.

They sat at one end of a very, very long table in a room far too big for four people.

Harry was sad to say the night did not get any better from there.

39

Drinks with Ron and Hermione were better. Mostly because they had drinks in a pub, and Harry didn't start off the evening by breaking several priceless heirlooms. Draco also had significantly more time to get used to the idea than he had for dinner, and he was entirely pleasant the whole night. So was Ron; he even offered to help Draco get the next round of drinks.

"I'm surprised," Harry said to Hermione, watching the two men at the bar. "I didn't know Ron had the capability to coexist in the same room as Draco without saying something mean."

"I threatened to withhold sex if he wasn't nice," Hermione said with a smile, sipping the last of her drink. "What's Draco's excuse?"

"Anything is better than his parents," Harry replied.

"Ron mentioned you had dinner with them," she said. "That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea," Harry said quietly as Draco and Ron came back. "Thanks for the beer, hon."

"Of course," Draco replied, sliding the drink over. "Harry, Ronald informed me you have been keeping him and Hermione explicitly informed of the various stages of our relationship."

Harry glanced at him. "Is that a problem?"

"Not in the slightest, as long as you failed to mention the events leading up to our first drink," Draco said.

"Nope," Harry replied. "But you probably shouldn't have mentioned that at all, since Ron's gotten his interrogation expression on, Mr. Mouthy Drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Draco said firmly. "I've had two drinks."

"Tell me about these events," Ron interrupted. "Harry's refused."

"As well he should," Draco replied. "The business was my own. However, seeing as we are forced into friendship by our mutual acquaintance, I suppose I can tell you. Harry found out about my divorce, and things progressed from there. I didn't want him to say anything until said divorce was public."

"And how'd you find out?" Ron asked.

"It's my job," Harry said. "To know the business of anyone on the list."

"Ah, the list of current, former and suspected Death Eaters?" Draco asked. "When, exactly, am I going to be removed from that list?"

"Not up to me," Harry said.

"Harry, you were on MuggleWatch then," Ron said suddenly. "You didn't know anyone's business except homeless muggles."

"He may have found out about my divorce when I told him while lying in an alley completely smashed," Draco said primly, taking a sip of his drink. "The specifics are neither here nor there."

"Malfoy, drunk—" Hermione elbowed him, and Ron sighed. "Draco, drunk off his arse in an alley. I'd pay to see that."

"Thankfully my days of alleys are long over," Draco said. "Now if you wish to see me smashed, you may find me in Grimmauld Place or the Manor on weekends."

"Or possibly here, in another drink or two," Harry added with a smile.

"Nonsense," Draco replied. "I'm perfectly coherent and entirely within my nightly limit."

"For now," Harry said.

All four of them ended the night very drunk, cementing Draco's inclusion in their group.

Draco, who couldn't open the door to the Floo for Harry because fireplaces didn't have doors, instead closed and then opened the door to his bedroom, vehemently insisting chivalry wasn't dead. Harry kissed him soundly and said that was fine as long as they still got to have sex.

Of course, they did.

The end.

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