Sunday morning, the sun streamed through the heavy window pane, waking Draco from a peaceful slumber. He yawned and opened his eyes, already smiling in anticipation of seeing Harry’s face. Harry was still sleeping, somewhat in shadow.
Draco watched his chest rise and fall and fall slowly for a bit, then his gaze traveled up Harry’s body to his neck, which was sporting the blush of a love bite left by Draco. Black stubble covered his upper neck and chin, as the DADA professor hadn’t bothered to shave since Friday morning. Draco found the roughness a sexy contrast to Harry’s usual boy-next-door good looks.
Continuing up Harry’s face, Draco followed the curve of his lips and the contours of his nose. He found that he could stare all day and never tire of memorizing each and every line and shadow.
Even closed, Harry’s eyes were extraordinary. The black fringe of lashes, slightly curled, were thick and shiny like his hair. The bulge of his eyelids hinted at the large, green orbs that lay just beneath.
Draco sighed, feeling somewhat sappy for his sentimentality. But he was smitten, completely and utterly under Harry’s spell. He didn’t even care if he looked a fool, because Harry was with him, letting him hold him, kiss him and fuck him senseless. Harry was in love with him too.
Harry Potter was in love with Draco Malfoy. It was there in black and white. Draco chuckled to himself as he thought perhaps he’d have that page of the Prophet framed.
“What’s so funny?” a voice asked softly.
“I am,” Draco answered, grinning at Harry.
“Hmm. Then you’re the first Malfoy to be so,” Harry smiled back.
“I think it’s because I’m the first Malfoy to be happy.”
Harry leaned in and gave Draco a quick, tight-lipped kiss, not particularly wanting to share his morning breath.
“Me too,” he said. “What should we do today?”
“What’s wrong with what we’ve been doing?”
Harry laughed. “Nothing. But my arse is beginning to protest. Five times in thirty-six hours has to be some sort of record. Well, for me it is.”
Leaning close, Draco whispered, “You could have me instead.”
Though Harry usually preferred to bottom, he had to admit the thought of reversing their positions caused him to harden under the sheets.
Before they could progress any further, a knock came on the door to Harry’s quarters.
“Bollocks! Who the hell is calling on you this early on a Sunday morning? Don’t they know we’re going for a shag record?”
Harry snickered, reluctantly getting out of bed. He slipped on a bath robe to answer the door. It was a surprise to see McGonagall on the other side.
“Minerva, this is unexpected,” Harry said uneasily. He smiled, despite thinking her visit was not going to be a pleasant one.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ve been looking for Draco.” She paused uncomfortably. “I had a feeling he might be here.”
Harry opened up the door to let her in. As she walked in, she glimpsed into Harry’s open bedroom door to see Draco lying in his bed, half covered by the sheet.
“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, quickly pulling up the covers.
Silently, Harry went to the door and closed it, giving Draco the opportunity to get out of bed and dressed without giving McGonagall the full monty. He and Minerva stood awkwardly, waiting for Draco to emerge.
“Minerva,” Draco said, nodding respectfully when he came out dressed in wrinkled clothing from Friday. “You were looking for me?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m afraid your mother has had an accident.”
“Mother?” he gasped. “Is she all right?”
“She’s in St. Mungo’s being taken care of.”
“What happened?” Harry asked.
“She was at yesterday’s Quidditch match and . . . fell from her seat in the stands.”
The way she paused made Draco think that it wasn’t quite the accident it appeared to be.
McGonagall continued. “She’s suffered a broken leg and a concussion. She’s been asking for you.”
Turning to Harry, Draco said, “I have to go. With my father still in Azkaban, she’ll need me. I’m sorry.”
“You should probably go freshen up and change before you go,” Harry suggested.
Putting a reassuring hand on Draco’s shoulder, McGonagall told him, “I’ve arranged to have your classes covered for the next week so you may tend to your mother. Draco, she’s expected to make a full recovery in time.”
“Thank you, professor.” Again, he directed his attention to Harry. “I’ll floo call you later to let you know what’s going on.”
He glanced at Minerva, then stepped forward and briefly kissed Harry, whispering, “I love you.”
“Me too,” Harry whispered back. “We’ll work on that record another time.”
One more nod to the Headmistress, and Draco left. After he was gone, McGonagall cleared her throat. Harry knew she had something to say and was probably trying to figure out how to say it tactfully. He beat her to the punch.
“Draco spent the weekend here with me. I know you’ve seen the interview in the Daily Prophet, so you know the nature of our relationship. Is this going to be a problem?”
“No, Harry, your relationship with Draco is not a problem. I rather prefer it to the way you boys used to behave towards one another.”
Harry visibly relaxed.
“However,” she went on. “I can’t say that I am thrilled with the state I found the pair of you in this morning.”
“With all due respect, professor, these are my private quarters.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, you are still the Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor. Therefore, you must make yourselves available to students, even on weekends. What if I had been one of your students coming to call?”
“Oh, uh, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”
“And what if one of Draco’s students was looking for him? Would he or she know where to look?” She paused. “On second thought, as the two of you aren’t married, the students should not think to look here.”
“So, you’re suggesting that Draco and I not have a personal life outside--or rather, inside, of Hogwarts?”
“It’s a delicate situation. Surely you can agree to that.”
“But you have to concede that by now, most of the students have read my interview and know that Draco and I are dating.”
“Dating is one thing, Harry. Finding your professors in bed together is quite another.”
“I see your point,” Harry said. “Draco and I will be more discreet from now on. But Minerva, has there ever been a couple teaching together at Hogwarts before?”
“Yes, a few. But most of them were married couples.”
“Just make sure the two of you are more conscientious in the future. I don’t want to have to add sex education to the curriculum,” she smirked.
“How is your mother doing?”
“The same,” Draco told Harry. “Now that she’s home from St. Mungo’s, she’s much happier, though.”
“How much longer do you think you’ll stay there?” Draco shrugged. “I’m not sure. Perhaps another week. Not that I don’t trust the house elves to care for Mother, but I would feel better knowing that her injuries are healing well before I leave.”
“I understand,” Harry said. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Draco said from the floo. “How is my replacement working out?”
“He’s not your replacement. He’s a temporary substitute. But he’s okay I guess. The students haven’t complained.”
“Good. As long as he’s not buggaring up my classroom.”
Harry could hear a voice calling Draco from beyond the floo.
“That’s Mother,” Draco said. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call again soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Harry sighed as Draco quickly disappeared. He’d been lonely ever since Draco left the school to tend to his mother. And with the weekend fast approaching, he was feeling particularly solitary.
Sitting down at his desk, he took out the essays his Fourth Years had written that week and began to grade them. He was in the middle of reading the second one when someone knocked on his door.
“Professor Knox, what can I do for you?” Harry asked wearily.
“Please, can we drop the professor part? Just call me Knox.”
Harry smiled, but really wasn’t in the mood to hold the substitute’s hand. Figuratively speaking.
“Okay. Knox, what can I do for you?”
“Well, it’s about one of the students, Casper Montague. Do you know him?”
“Yes. He’s been doing poorly in Potions. Draco has been giving him extra help to try and get him ready for his O.W.L.s.”
“Oh, that explains it. His Confusing and Befuddlement Draught was a bit of a mess. I gave him a grade for it, but not a good one,” Knox said. “He said something about trying again. But I told him no. He looked like he was about to cry,” he laughed.
“He isn’t a bad student overall. He’s simply impatient with his potion making,” Harry explained. “He does well in my class, and most of the others. If you give him another chance to make--”
Knox cut Harry off. “It sounds like Malfoy is being too lenient with the boy.”
“Professor Malfoy is doing a splendid job with a student who would otherwise fall through the cracks,” Harry defended.
“Well, my philosophy is to toughen students like that up. If he can’t keep up in a school environment, how is he supposed to make it in the wizarding world?”
Harry couldn’t necessarily disagree with the other professor. But he didn’t want to say anything to suggest that he wasn’t one hundred percent behind Draco.
“Anyway, it’s about supper time. You going down?” Knox asked.
Looking at his mantle clock, Harry nodded. “I didn’t realize it was that time already. I’ll walk with you.”
As the pair made their way toward the Great Hall, Knox made small talk about the castle and some of the other professors.
Harry furrowed his brow. “You didn’t attend Hogwarts, did you?”
“I did for my first and second years. But then my parents got transferred to America for several years so I attended the Alse Young School for Wizards in Connecticut.”
“You lived in America? What was it like?”
Knox shrugged. “It was actually nice. The weather there is so different than here. It got very cold and there was a lot of snow. But in the summer, it was hot enough to go to beach every day. And the colors of the trees in the fall were amazing.”
Harry couldn’t help smiling along with Knox as he reminisced.
“Was your school much different than Hogwarts?”
“Oh, yeah, much more disciplined there. Almost military. But I got an excellent education. Until . . . “
“Until what?” Harry asked.
“The final battle of course,” Knox replied.
“You mean against Voldemort? Were you here for that?”
“No, I was at Alse Young. We may not have been fighting the Dark Lord personally, the way you did here. But we had Death Eaters of our own to fight. There was a coordinated effort in several countries. I lost two friends when the entire facade of the building came down.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said solemnly. “I guess I hadn’t realized there were battles in other places. I suppose it makes sense that they would try and take down as much of the establishment as possible at one time. I was so caught up in what was happening here that I never considered what was happening all over the world,” Harry added.
“I guess it wasn’t quite as newsworthy, seeing as nobody else had to fight you know who.” They stopped in front of the door to the Great Hall. “It’s amazing that you did that when you were so young. You’re a real hero. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”
“That was a long time ago. I’m just a professor now. An ordinary wizard.”
Harry walked in just as food began to appear on the tables, followed by Knox.
“You keep telling yourself that, Harry,” Knox mumbled to himself. He smiled as he watched the Gryffindor Head stroll away.
Harry took his usual place, while Knox sat in Draco’s spot, and began dishing out beef stew.
“Any word on Narcissa Malfoy?” McGonagall asked him.
“She’s home,” Harry replied. “Draco is going to take care of her for another week. I believe he is planning to floo call you about it.”
“Well, it looks as though Professor Knox will be joining us for an extended stay,” she said. “That is, if you’re available.”
Glancing at Harry, Knox answered. “I’m definitely available. I would love to stay on until Professor Malfoy returns.”
Harry continued to eat, avoiding Knox’s eyes, which seemed to be constantly looking in Harry’s direction. The way the man answered McGonagall’s question about his availability made Harry a bit uneasy. Then he shrugged it off, assuming he was being paranoid.
Through the rest of the meal, conversation took many twists and turns, including Christmas break. A good number of the professors had made excuses for not staying at Hogwarts over the week-long leave. Most believed they had paid their dues in the past by supervising students over the holiday and thought the newest professors should take on that duty this year.
Joining in on the discussion, Harry volunteered. “I wouldn’t mind at all staying here to supervise. I don’t have family to visit, as most of you do. I’m sure Professor Malfoy wouldn’t mind either.”
“I’ll bet the two of you would rather enjoy having the castle all to yourselves,” Trelawney said. Coming from her, Harry wasn’t offended. She was often oblivious of her wording. It was the snickering from Flitwick and Sinistra that got to him. He glared at them but said nothing.
McGonagall cleared her throat and gave the professors a stern look.
“Thank you, Harry. I very well may take you up on your offer,” she said.
“If Professor Malfoy is still home taking care of his mother, I’d be happy to fill in for him over Christmas,” Knox piped up.
“Oh, I’m sure Draco will be back long before then,” Harry told him. “His mother’s injuries aren’t that severe.”
Knox shrugged a shoulder. “Perhaps. But keep it in mind.” He continued to eat nonchalantly.
Between the substitute professor’s thinly veiled attempts to get in Harry’s good books, and the other professors tittering about his relationship with Draco, Harry’s mood was falling. He couldn’t wait for his lover to return.