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Dressed in cargo shorts and a t-shirt, with a rucksack on his back, maps and leaflets in one hand and an excited six-year-old tugging on the other, Harry looked every part a tourist.

Despite having actually lived in London for many months, Harry had never gone round the tourist sights. So when Teddy asked if Harry would take him to London, it gave Harry the perfect opportunity to do what he had missed out on.

Harry lived with Andromeda and Teddy in a homely cottage on the Cornish coastline. Andromeda had originally lived on her own there with Teddy, but Harry moved in to help out after Andromeda developed a chronic pain disorder—mainly affecting her legs—which often left her feeling incredibly fatigued. As well as helping with Teddy and looking after the house, Harry tried to get Teddy out as often as he could to give Andromeda some much appreciated peace and quiet.

Teddy never tired of his trips out, and his visit to London was no exception.

“Those guards at the Muggle palace looked so funny in those hats!” Teddy enthused, his eyes constantly darting from one sight to another. “Why don’t we get to wear hats like that? I think you’d look silly in one, Harry.”

“I look silly in any hat,” Harry agreed. “Are you hungry? We can have our picnic in the park now if you want.”

Teddy nodded, trying to pull out of Harry’s grasp to run ahead, but Harry held onto Teddy’s hand tight. Harry had expected London to be busy, given that it was a sunny day during the summer holidays, but it seemed to be even more bustling than usual.

They managed to find a patch of grass to sit on to eat their sandwiches, with the crusts cut off for Teddy. Harry busied himself reading the tourist leaflets, while Teddy couldn’t stop looking around in every direction with his mouth half open. If this was his reaction to London, Harry bet Teddy was going to adore Hogwarts.

“Can we go to the aquarium next?” Teddy asked, squirming as Harry used a tissue to brush crumbs away from Teddy’s mouth. “Joey from school went, and he said they had sharks! Look, Harry; there’s Rolf! Rolf, over here!”

Teddy waved his hand wildly in the air, catching the attention of Rolf Scamander, Luna’s boyfriend of three years. He was from Trinidad originally, and had met Luna when they were both travelling in Venezuela; they’d been inseparable ever since.

Rolf wasn’t quite as eccentric as Luna, but that was hard to believe based on his current outfit, which included a very bright, rainbow patterned shirt. Rolf was holding a flag with horizontal stripes of colour—blue, pink, white, pink, and blue again—and those same colours were painted on his cheeks.

“Heya, Teddy,” Rolf greeted with a grin once he reached them, ruffling Teddy’s hair. “Hey, Harry. Enjoying London?”

“Yep,” Teddy answered brightly. “Harry’s taking me to the aquarium next to see the sharks. What’s that flag you’ve got?”

Rolf glanced at Harry, and Harry inclined his head. Rolf was a trans man, though that was currently unknown to Teddy as they had wanted to make sure he was old enough to understand. And now the topic had come up…

“This is the transgender flag,” Rolf explained, crouching down to Teddy’s level. “I’m transgender, which means when I was born, the Healer got it wrong when they were asked whether I was a boy or a girl. That happens sometimes, because Healers only see what you look like on the outside, not the inside. I looked like a girl, but I always knew I was a boy.”

Teddy hummed thoughtfully. “Oh,” he said. “Sometimes I think I’d like to be a girl, but I like being a boy, too.”

“Well that’s perfectly alright,” Rolf said with a kind smile. “Ah, there’s Luna.”

Luna was walking towards them with her arms outstretched. Teddy bolted towards her and hugged her tightly round the middle, leaving Harry standing with Rolf.

“So Teddy’s still gender nonconforming?” Rolf asked, watching Teddy and Luna with great affection in his eyes.

“He is,” Harry answered. “What he just told you is the most clear thing he’s said about it, to be honest.”

Teddy had never asked to be called a different name or use different pronouns, but he often liked to wear dresses and skirts, and have his hair long. Harry never had a problem with it, because it made Teddy happy to express himself as he wanted, but Andromeda wasn’t as keen.

“We had a problem last week,” Harry confided, not having told anyone but Hermione about the incident. “Teddy wanted to wear a dress to school and put bows in his hair. Andromeda doesn’t mind Teddy doing it at home, but she worries he’ll be picked on at school. When she told Teddy he had to wear trousers...well, he didn’t even go to school in the end; he actually made himself sick from crying at one point.”

Harry loved talking to Rolf, because Rolf was always so attentive and understanding, and had a knack for saying just what Harry needed to hear.

“You’re doing the right thing, letting Teddy express himself as he wants,” Rolf murmured, aware that Luna and Teddy were coming back to them now. “Would you like me to come round and talk to Andromeda? It might ease her worries a bit.”

“That would be great, thank you, Rolf,” Harry smiled. “Hi, Luna. That’s an, er, interesting dress.”

Harry wasn’t sure if it even was a dress; it was more of a giant rainbow flag shaped around Luna’s figure.

“Thank you, Harry,” Luna beamed, giving a little twirl. “Teddy tells me you’ve been to see the Queen. How lovely. You’ve missed the parade, I’m afraid.”

“A parade?!” Teddy exclaimed, just as Harry asked, “which parade?”

“Pride, of course!” Luna answered, gesturing to her dress. “It was wonderful, wasn’t it, Rolf? Our whole group marched, which was nice as some of them hardly ever venture into the Muggle world.”

“That would be me you’re talking about,” came a smooth, upper-class voice from behind Harry that sounded very much like Draco Malfoy.

Harry turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat.

It was Malfoy, and a very attractive Malfoy at that. His face was made up of sharp angles, and his hair was no longer gelled back, instead falling loose in soft looking strands. And then there was Malfoy’s outfit!

Malfoy had covered his lean frame with a navy blue, three piece suit, with the jacket left open to show off the sterling silver buttons of his waistcoat. Harry always had a weakness for a man in a good suit.

“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy said, giving Harry a very obvious look up and down. “It’s been a while. I thought you’d have saved the world at least two more times by now.”

“I’ve been busy,” Harry shrugged, placing a gentle hand on Teddy’s shoulder.

“Harry’s taking me to the aquarium,” Teddy told Malfoy, the roots of his hair slowly going from brown to blue.

“Not in front of Muggles, Teddy,” Harry warned.

To Harry’s surprise, Malfoy chuckled and gave Teddy a smile. “That’s a very clever trick you can do, Teddy. Pity you’re going to the aquarium; you could have come with us to the party at Trafalgar Square.”

“I don’t think they’ll have sharks at Trafalgar Square, though, will they?” Harry grinned, and Teddy nodded in agreement.

“Hmm, tell you what, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, his grey eyes focused entirely on Harry. “How about you come to the Leaky Cauldron with us tonight?” He gestured at Luna and Rolf, who both nodded in agreement. “There’s a few of us from school getting together; you can tell us all about the sharks.”

Harry hadn’t been out for a long time—looking after Teddy had limited his social life—so the offer was tempting, even coming from Malfoy.

“I’ll have to double-check with Andromeda, but alright,” Harry said, glancing at Luna and Rolf who seemed pleased with his answer.

“Excellent,” Malfoy said. “I’ll see you at eight-fifteen.”


“Why did I ever agree to this?” Harry moaned for the third time that evening.

For the third time, Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Because deep down you know it will do you good to socialise more,” Hermione said, giving Harry a pointed look.

It had become a ritual for Harry and Hermione to firecall each other through the Floo every night. As Hermione was busy in the law offices at the Ministry, and Ron was busy with Auror duty, Harry never got to see them much anymore, especially as he had Teddy to look after as a priority. They still got together for Sunday Dinner at the Burrow, but Harry would be lost without his nightly chats with Hermione.

“But it’s Malfoy,” Harry whined. “I guess I’ve forgiven him for the whole Voldemort debacle, you know, the whole ‘life or death, blah blah, blah’, but I don’t think we managed a single conversation before that where we didn’t end up insulting each other or fighting.”

“Did he insult you when he invited you out?” Hermione asked, raising a brow as though she already knew the answer.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Well no,” Harry answered quietly. “But he said there would be a few from school going. I know Luna and Rolf will be there, but what if I get there and it’s all old Slytherins who’ll end up ignoring me and leaving me sat on my own looking really awkward?”

“You’re overthinking this, Harry,” Hermione said seriously. “Malfoy isn’t a teenager anymore; he’s obviously grown up, and it will do you good to branch out a little bit more. You know I’m right, Harry.”

Hermione was right, as usual.

“Fine, but if I have a horrible time then you owe me,” Harry grinned. “Okay, if I wear those nice jeans that Ginny got me, what colour jumper should I wear? The grey or the blue?”


In the end, Harry had gone for the grey jumper. He tugged it down nervously as he stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, looking around for anyone he recognised from Hogwarts but he saw nobody.

“Harry!” he heard Hannah Abbott, the newest—and youngest ever—landlady of the Leaky Cauldron, call from behind the bar, waving him over to her. “You’re in one of the private rooms.”

She pointed to a door to the side, just down from the bar. Harry hadn’t even known the Leaky Cauldron had private rooms for hire.

He pushed the door open, expecting to find a small group already gathered, but instead he saw only Malfoy.

Malfoy had swapped his elegant suit for black, form-fitting jeans, a black waistcoat, and a crisp white shirt that had the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Harry found his eyes drawn to the exposed forearms, the Dark Mark faded to a dull pink lingering on Malfoy’s pale skin.

“Oh, did I say eight-fifteen?” Malfoy said, pulling a hand to his cheek. “I meant half past.”

“Why are you here so early, then?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He could feel his body tensing up, but Malfoy looked completely the opposite, entirely relaxed.

“I like to be the first person that everyone sees,” Malfoy answered with a wide smile, and Harry hadn’t noticed how perfectly white and straight Malfoy’s teeth were before. “Let me buy you a drink to make up for the mistake, Potter.”

Harry considered Malfoy warily for a moment before nodding.

Malfoy’s smile only widened as he tapped on a section of the wall, which opened under Malfoy’s touch to reveal the bar.

“Two of the usual,” Malfoy told the bar assistant, who disappeared and came back soon after with two small glasses filled with a vibrant amber liquid.

“This isn’t a pint,” Harry commented as Malfoy handed him the glass, trying not to notice the way Malfoy’s fingers brushed against his as he did so.

“Well observed, Potter,” Malfoy drawled, swirling his glass ever so slightly. “Beer is for commoners. Whiskey is a fine drink for fine men; drink up, Potter.”

Harry’s inner query as to whether Malfoy had just implied that he was a fine man was wiped from his mind as he took a sip of the drink and promptly choked. It was an odd flavour that burned his chest, tasting of honey and smoke, and even a bit like charcoal.

“Not a big drinker, are you?” Malfoy said, seeming rather amused by Harry’s reaction.

“You don’t tend to drink much alcohol when you have a six-year-old at home,” Harry retorted dryly. “Instead you drink what they drink, which is usually red and fizzy.”

Malfoy grinned at that.

“How did you get such a fancy room here, anyway?” Harry asked, noticing for the first time that the walls were draped with rainbow flags. “I didn’t even know this existed.”

Malfoy picked idly at a nail. “Perks of being best friends with the landlady, I suppose.”

“What?” Harry gasped, unable to help himself. “You aren’t best friends with Hannah.”

Surely things hadn’t changed that much that Malfoy was making deep friendships with kindly women like Hannah.

But no, Malfoy looked affronted at the very suggestion. “Not me; one of my housemates is. Both my housemates should be along soon, actually. They have an annoying habit of being early.”

“Not as early as you, though,” Harry pointed out with a grin.

And didn’t it feel weird to be hanging out with Malfoy and having everything seem easy and normal? It was like they hadn’t been enemies at one point—which had been until Voldemort appeared and showed what having an enemy really meant.

Malfoy just smirked and waved Harry over to sit at the large table in the centre of the room. There were a lot of chairs around it, but Malfoy chose to sit right next to Harry, his thigh ever so slightly brushing against Harry’s.

Harry took another swig of whiskey, and tried not to look pleased when Malfoy smirked at that.

Voices from the other side of the door started getting louder, and moments later it opened and two women walked in holding hands, both of them smiling brightly at Malfoy. Harry found that quite peculiar, because Padma Patil and Susan Bones were the last people he’d have picked to be friends with Malfoy—although Hannah’s best friend who lived with Malfoy made a lot of sense now.

Padma was dressed in a pencil skirt with a short sleeved blouse and cardigan, her long plaited hair hanging over her shoulder onto her chest. Susan, on the other hand, had cut her hair since school, having it buzz cut at the sides but longer on top. She had opted to wear baggy jeans and a Muggle band t-shirt, which made Harry feel a bit less underdressed compared to Malfoy and Padma.

“Hello, Draco. Harry,” Susan greeted with a smile. “Draco said you were coming tonight.”

“He was even longer getting ready in the shower than usual,” Padma laughed, taking a seat opposite Harry and Malfoy. “I didn’t think that was possible, but I think he wanted to make a good impression.”

Malfoy looked like he was holding back a retort, which only furthered Padma and Susan’s amusement.

“So how are you doing, Harry?” Susan asked, taking a seat beside Padma and giving her a rather pink coloured drink. “It’s been years since I saw you last.”

“I’m alright,” Harry answered with a shrug, taking another sip of his drink as he felt all eyes on him. “My godson Teddy keeps me busy. How’s Parvati doing, Padma? Last I heard she was in Laos with Lavender.”

Parvati and Lavender had gone travelling after the war and had yet to return to Britain. They sent a Christmas postcard to all their ex-Gryffindor year-group each year, though, updating them on their travels.

“They’re in Indonesia now,” Padma said with a fond smile. “Luna and Rolf told me to pass on a hostel recommendation so they went for it. And speaking of Luna and Rolf…”

The pair in question chose that moment to walk through the door, followed by Blaise Zabini and Anthony Goldstein, and soon after came Sue Li, Daphne Greengrass, and Ernie Macmillan.

Although lots of smiles and greetings were directed his way, Harry still felt out of place as the group of people who obviously knew each other very well flitted from person to person to make conversation. Harry stayed firmly in his seat, and was actually grateful that Malfoy didn’t seem to intend on moving. Aside from Luna and maybe Rolf, Malfoy was one of the only people in the room that Harry really knew. He knew his old classmates, of course, but only ever at a surface level.

Eventually everybody settled around the table with their drinks, a couple with water and others with alcohol, and silence fell as all eyes turned towards Harry. All his whiskey had gone now, and he looked mournfully into the empty glass.

“It’s nice to have you with us, Harry,” Anthony said with a smile, his words followed by nodding from the others.

“Yeah, Hermione said I needed to socialise more. Er, so how did you all end up friends?” Harry asked nobody in particular, hoping the attention would shift to someone else.

“Didn’t Draco tell you?” Daphne laughed, fixing Malfoy with an amused look. “We’re part of the Queer Wixes Against Hate.” Daphne pointed to a rainbow badge pinned to her shirt which read QWAH.

Harry had guessed it was a gay rights collective considering he had met Luna, Rolf, and Malfoy after a gay pride parade, but then…

“What’s a wixes?”

“A wix,” Luna supplied, “is the gender-neutral term for witches and wizards. Wixes is the plural.”

“Ah,” Harry said, nodding.

“We’re an activist group mostly,” Susan said. “And we run a community centre in Manchester which offers support, advice, and friendship to people that need it. We’d like to start providing more, but we just can’t afford to and the Ministry won’t give us any funding.”

At the mention of the Ministry, several people scowled.

“We have more members than just us,” Ernie added. “There’s a few teenagers, and quite a lot in their thirties and over. We do all get together for meetings and events, but we tend to break off into age groups for little get-togethers like this.”

“Are you thinking of joining us?” Sue, a Ravenclaw who Harry had only ever known by sight, asked.

Harry laughed awkwardly, and he felt Malfoy’s leg shift against his almost comfortingly. “Oh, no. I’m know, er…”

“Gay?” Blaise supplied.

Harry nodded.

“Didn’t you date Charlie Weasley last year?” Padma queried, furrowing her brow.

“Well yes,” Harry answered. “But I dated Ginny before that. I consider myself bisexual, and this is gay pride, and gay rights, you know.”

To his surprise, his answer was met with both amused and sympathetic smiles.

“Oh, that’s a very common mistake,” Malfoy said, leaning back in his chair and resting his arm on the back of Harry’s. “The press and the public love to shove the word ‘gay’ in there because they’re either too lazy or misinformed to say the proper phrase. We’re LGBTQ-plus, which means we welcome anyone who isn’t straight and cisgender—meaning they identify as the gender they were assigned at birth. See, in this very group we have lesbians-”

Here, Malfoy gestured to Padma and Daphne.

“Gay men, including myself.”

Malfoy also gestured to Anthony and Ernie.

“Bisexuals, such as yourself, Susan, and Rolf. The T is for transgender, so Rolf falls under that letter as well, and we also have non-binary members such as Blaise who is agender, meaning they—and I emphasise the they as their pronoun choice—don’t identify as any gender.”

“And then,” Malfoy continued. “The Q stands for queer which is an all-encompassing term but only for those who wish to use it, and the plus is for anyone else, such as Luna who’s pansexual which means gender isn’t important to her in attraction; and Sue who’s asexual, which means she isn’t sexually attracted to anyone at all.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not having realised before how wide the sexuality spectrum was.

All of these people in the room had grouped together over their sexualities to help others like them, and had became friends because of it. They had put past histories behind them and moved forwards together, and Harry couldn’t deny he was a bit jealous.

Of course Harry didn’t mind helping Andromeda, who had become like the aunt he always wanted, and Teddy was the light of his life, but still, it would be nice to be part of a group like QWAH, with people like him who understood what it meant to be solely attracted to the gender that society told him he was supposed to like.

“Could I join?” he asked, for some reason looking at Malfoy more than anyone else.

The reason became more clear when Malfoy smiled and Harry felt his stomach flutter.

“Come with me to the centre tomorrow,” Malfoy said, and Harry nodded.


Harry had been late to meet Malfoy. Andromeda had spent the night before with Teddy, and in the morning she just hadn’t had the energy to keep up with a rambunctious six-year-old. Molly had offered to have Teddy for the day, but Teddy just wouldn’t get ready in time. He had refused his breakfast, caused a scene when he decided he didn’t want a bath, and didn’t get his shoes and coat on even after being told to do so three times.

Thankfully Molly had been understanding and assured Harry that she knew how kids were. Malfoy, too, had seemed fine when Harry apologise for his lateness, though Harry didn’t know if that was genuine or not.

Harry had never been to Manchester before, but to him it seemed just the same as any city; bustling with people who darted around tall buildings which were built up everywhere. He couldn’t help but wonder why Malfoy’s community centre was in Manchester rather than London, so he asked Malfoy.

“Padma and I were both living here so it made sense,” Malfoy said as he directed Harry through the busy streets. “Manchester has a large population of magic users, and it’s also very LGBTQ-plus friendly; there’s a big Muggle scene on Canal Street. You should come with me some time.”

Harry nodded out of politeness, though he wasn’t sure if the Muggle club scene was his sort of thing. He didn’t enjoy dancing or crowds, and thankfully his friends weren’t into that either.

“So you and Padma set up the centre together?” Harry asked, noting the rainbow flags pinned to a Muggle pub on the street corner. “How did you end up friends with her?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute; we’re almost there.”

Malfoy pointed down the street to a rather ordinary looking building made from red bricks, with boarded up windows which went three floors up.

“It’s far nicer inside,” Malfoy promised, his cheeks having turned a pale pink. “The old Muggle owners abandoned it, and it suits us to keep it looking shoddy on the outside in case the anti-Muggle Wards ever fail.”

The door creaked as Malfoy unlocked it and pushed it open, and the inside was definitely far more pleasing to the eye than the outside. The walls were a pale cream colour, and though there was a slightly musty smell in the air, the wooden floorboards and stairs were polished and clean.

“We aren’t using the upstairs at the moment,” Malfoy explained as he took Harry into a lounge area filled with mismatched sofas and chairs, and with a large, fluffy rug on the floor. “We want to save that for emergency accommodation once we get funding to set that up. This is our lounge area, where people are welcome to spend time; there’s a small kitchen behind the door on the left.”

Malfoy led Harry to another room which had multiple chairs in it, all spread out to form a large circle. A blackboard was on one of the walls, the writing on it describing fundraising ideas.

“This is the meeting room,” Malfoy told him, gesturing to the chairs. “We have some smaller rooms next door which we’re using for one-on-ones with people who need advice, and we’re hoping to start offering counselling and legal advice, too. Padma’s in training to become a lawyer, but she can’t help people until she’s qualified. These are the main areas we use so far, but I’ll show you my favourite’re going to love this, Potter.”

Malfoy showed him to a large, empty room, which obviously had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it as the ceiling was far higher than it should have been compared to the rest of the building.

Malfoy opened a cupboard door, revealing a large number of broomsticks propped up.

“This is where we’re allowing people to fly to blow off some steam. We often play Quidditch—which we affectionately call Queerditch. You’ll know the man in charge of that; Oliver Wood.”

“Oliver Wood?” Harry repeated, sure that Malfoy couldn’t be referencing Harry’s old Quidditch team captain. “I didn’t know he was…”

“Oh, Oliver is very gay,” Malfoy interrupted. “He and I dated for a few months last year.”

Harry’s stomach twisted at hearing that.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know,” Malfoy continued, unaware of Harry’s strange inner turmoil. “He’s rather camp.”

“I just thought Oliver was a bit too into Quidditch,” Harry shrugged, and Malfoy laughed at that.

“Well when you get Oliver talking Quidditch, that’s a different story,” Malfoy said. “That’s the one thing he takes more seriously than anything. Come and sit down, Potter; I’ll make us coffee.”

It was rather strange to Harry, sitting on a threadbare sofa while Malfoy bustled about in the kitchen making coffee. Seeing Malfoy so grown up was hard to get his head around; not that Harry wasn’t pleased that Malfoy had finally learned to stop treating other people like dirt, but it still seemed like it would take some getting used to.

Malfoy came out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs, and set them down on a coffee table before sliding onto the cushion beside Harry. Feeling like he just wanted to do it, Harry shifted his leg so that his knee was pressing against Malfoy’s, and when Malfoy didn’t move his own leg away Harry felt that funny, fluttering feeling in his stomach again.

“So how did you and Padma end up friend and doing this together?” Harry asked. He took a sip of coffee, which had the exactly the right amount of milk and sugar to make it perfect; he hadn’t even told Malfoy how he took his coffee.

“When Padma and I both came out, neither of us was exactly disowned, but our families weren’t all that pleased,” Draco said, crossing one leg over the other which pulled the fabric taut over his shapely thighs—which Harry pretended not to notice. “Our fathers ended up getting together, and they wanted us to marry each other. That way, our fathers said, we wouldn’t look bad on the family, and we’d both be able to have affairs on the side.”

“Sounds like a lovely married life,” Harry commented dryly.

Malfoy smirked. “I think my father was the pioneer behind the idea; he was ever so pleased with it. But Padma and I both disagreed, and ended up moving in together to escape our families whining. We got on far better than either of us expected, and I now consider her one of my best friends. We started going out on the Muggle scene, and realised that there were no magical support systems available for us.”

“So you made your own,” Harry finished.

“It started off as a small get together, and we couldn’t believe the number of people that turned up. Some were in their fifties and sixties and hadn’t even come out because they thought there was nobody else like them. Between us all we raised enough money to open this centre, but we don’t have enough to do all we want to. Nobody else cares if we get kicked out because our parents despise who we are, or if we get beaten by our partners but people ignore it because the abuser’s the same gender. We don’t get any sex education at school regardless, nut the leaflets at St Mungo’s only cater to male and female relations. Our community is ignored by the Ministry and the Wizarding World as a whole, but we exist and we needed a place where we were allowed to exist. I know I’ve made mistakes and treated people badly based on prejudice in the past, but I want to make up for those mistakes and fight for a cause I believe in—a cause that helps, not hinders.”

Harry had never heard Malfoy sound so passionate, or sincere, about anything. He noticed Malfoy’s fingers trembling from where his hand was resting on the sofa, and without thinking Harry placed his own hand over it.

“It’s alright, Malfoy,” Harry assured him. “You’re doing a good thing here.”

“I know that,” Malfoy said, trying to sound smug but not quite managing it. “I just want other people to know it, too.”


That night, Harry relayed all the information about Malfoy and QWAH to Hermione.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Malfoy speak so passionately about anything; I think he really wants to make a difference,” Harry summarised, dropping his tone as he began to tell Hermione something he’d been debating admitting the whole conversation, but always knew deep down he’d tell Hermione anyway because he told her everything. “And to be quite honest, Hermione, I think I’m attracted to Malfoy.”

Hermione nodded, as she had been doing through all of Harry’s story.

“Mmhmm,” she said. “I can’t believe that the Ministry is so heteronormative—then again, I’m not surprised at all. I suppose they keep it all hushed up, though; better for them to pretend that everyone is straight than actually treat people who aren’t like human beings. Malfoy has done right in setting up that centre with Padma.”

“Didn’t you hear me, Hermione?” Harry cut in. “I said I was attracted to Malfoy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I heard you, Harry. I thought you were always attracted to him.”

“What?” Harry gasped, choking as he inhaled Floo powder. Wiping his watery eyes, he added, “why would you think that? We always hated each other.”

“You hated Snape, too, but you never got quite as stalker-like with him, did you?” Hermione pointed out. “And so what if you’re attracted to Malfoy? Attraction is something that can’t be helped; it’s whether you choose to act on that attraction or not that matters. Are you going to act on it?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s Malfoy,” he said, as though being Malfoy was a perfectly valid reason for not wanting to date someone.

Hermione didn’t seem to agree. “A Malfoy who, by the sounds of things, isn’t an immature teenager anymore.” She fixed Harry with a pointed look. “I always thought you two would make an interesting couple, actually. Not a healthy pair, admittedly, but that was back then. If Malfoy’s really grown up I think he could be good for you; you said yourself you wanted to get back on the dating scene.”

Harry had said that, several times already this last year. He had always used Teddy as an excuse—and for the most part looking after Teddy had kept Harry busy—but Teddy was at the newly formed magical primary school now, and Harry was running out of excuses.

“At the very least,” Hermione said, filling the silence. “Why don’t you keep going to the centre, and make some new friends or give yourself something new to do.”

“I want to; it’s just…”

“Just what?” Hermione pressed gently.

“ the Leaky Cauldron everyone was all so friendly and happy with each other. It’s like in these last few years they’ve put the past behind them and moved on together, and I guess I felt a bit left out. I mean, I don’t regret stepping up to help Andromeda with Teddy, and I wouldn’t trade him for anything, but…”

“It’s alright, Harry,” Hermione said with a small smile. “You’re allowed to feel like that; it doesn’t mean you care for Teddy any less. But you’re young, Harry; you’ve got more than enough time to catch up on making new friends. I know I’ve told you before, but I think you do a wonderful job with Teddy.”

“I know I’m no Tonks and Remus,” Harry murmured softly. “But I want Teddy to have a happy life. I guess I can relate to Malfoy that way; he wants to improve people’s lives, too.”

Hermione’s smile brightened. “Well there’s one thing you have in common. Why don’t you try and find out if you have any more?”


Harry Apparated directly to the QWAH centre, now that Malfoy had keyed him into the Apparition wards.

Malfoy was the only one there, setting up a table full of snacks and cakes.

“Did you give me the wrong time again?” Harry asked, raising a brow but sending Malfoy a grin.

Malfoy snorted. “No, I just wanted to get you alone.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, before breaking into a grin of his own. “Come here, Potter; I want you to tell me what you think of Susan’s cake.”

Malfoy held out a piece of the carrot cake, and his fingers brushed Harry’s as he passed it over.

Harry felt Malfoy’s eyes on him as he took a bite and held his hand under his chin to catch the crumbs. Harry licked the frosting off his lips and he saw Malfoy’s eyes follow the movement.

“It’s nice,” Harry said. “Very sweet.”

“Oh? I only like the frosting.” With that said, Malfoy swiped his finger across the top of Harry’s slice and put the frosting-coated finger between his lips.

This time it was Harry’s turn to stare as Malfoy’s tongue darted out to lick his finger clean, and his eyes glossed over as if it was the most exquisite thing that Malfoy had ever tasted.

“I lied, by the way,” Malfoy said, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m the one who made the cake; I just wanted your honest opinion.”

“Actually, I was just being polite so I didn’t hurt Susan’s feelings,” Harry deadpanned. “It was so awful it’s made me swear off cake forever.”

Harry smirked in what he hoped was a very Malfoy-like way, and was met with an amused look.

“Very funny, Potter.”

The door to the meeting room creaked open, welcoming other members, and soon the room was filled with people. Most from the Leaky Cauldron were there, but as Harry had been told, many of the members were actually a lot older.

Everyone seemed friendly with each other, though, greeting each other with lots of bright smiles and loud gales of laughter. Harry was made to feel very welcome, despite his tendency to stick with Malfoy and wait for other people to talk to him.

“Harry!” A very enthusiastic Oliver Wood greeted, shaking his hand before leaning in to kiss him on both cheeks.

Harry promptly went bright red, and remembered very suddenly that Oliver had once dated Malfoy.

“I hear you’ve got a little boy, Harry,” Oliver said, steering Harry away from Malfoy who followed them nonetheless. “How old is he?”

“Well he’s not mine; he’s my godson, but he’s called Teddy,” Harry answered, his voice taking on the proud tone that it always did whenever he spoke about Teddy. “He’s six now.”

“How darling,” Oliver beamed. “Puddlemere United have a junior team, you know. I bet with your influence he’ll make a great little Quidditch player.”

“Talking of Puddlemere United,” Malfoy cut in. “I heard Ernie saying that they don’t stand a chance against the Montrose Magpies next week.”

Malfoy scowled as Oliver left to confront Ernie about the supposed blasphemy.

“Er, did your breakup not go well, then?” Harry guessed, surprised at Malfoy’s sudden change of demeanour.

“Our breakup was fine,” Malfoy muttered, still glaring at the spot where Oliver had been. He snapped out of his sour mood just as quickly as he’d gone into it, fixing Harry with a look that Harry wasn’t quite sure how to read. “We should sit down before the meeting starts.”

Nobody else had sat down yet, but Malfoy insisted on Harry sitting next to him; so he didn’t look lazy by being the first seated, Malfoy claimed.

Once everyone else had settled down and taken their seats, Susan stood and tapped on the blackboard with her wand to clear it.

“As I’m sure most of you know, Minister Shacklebolt is still enforcing his Public Majority Act,” Susan announced, referencing Kingsley's first act as Minister which dictated that all new proposals to change or add to the law had to be put to public vote first, and only enacted in case of positive majority. “Shacklebolt has today announced a new proposition; legalising same-sex marriage.”

A lot of excited murmuring went around the room, some of the older couples especially looking very pleased at the idea.

Susan held up her hand for silence before continuing. “Legalising same-sex marriage won’t make us equal, but it will be a big step in the right direction. If we can convince the public to vote in favour, then that means they’ll know we exist and that they support us, and the more that support us, the more things will change for the better in the future. The vote will be announced in tomorrow’s papers, and then we have a month to campaign. Does anyone have any ideas?”

Harry folded his arms across his chest as he listened to people shouting out ideas which Susan added to the blackboard, and allowed his fingers to just graze against Malfoy’s upper arm.

Malfoy froze for a moment before relaxing into the touch, his knee bumping Harry’s in response.

Malfoy wasn’t looking at Harry, which was good as Harry was looking at him. Malfoy’s grey eyes were bright and clear, focused on Susan and the blackboard behind her. He looked so calm, so much so that Harry jumped when Malfoy spoke up and suggested running an ad campaign in the newspapers.

Being attracted to Malfoy was one thing, Hermione had said, but acting on that attraction was another. The problem was that Harry was starting to feel like sitting back and doing nothing wasn’t going to be enough for him much longer.


“What do you think we should buy Nana for her birthday?” Harry asked Teddy as they strolled through Diagon Alley.

Andromeda had already given Harry some ideas of what she wanted, but he wanted Teddy to get her something especially from him.

“Er,” Teddy murmured thoughtfully, looking round at all of the shops as if he was hoping for inspiration. “What about soap? Nana likes using soap.”

“She does,” Harry agreed. “But she has lots of soap already. How about we look for something a bit bigger?”

Teddy nodded, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

“Can we go and see George, Harry? Please!” Teddy cried. “I’ll look for Nana’s present afterwards, I promise.”

Harry pretended to consider the question for a moment, just for the amusement of seeing Teddy’s nervous anticipation.

“Go on, then,” Harry grinned.

George was very pleased to see Teddy, lifting the child into his arms and swinging him round, which made Teddy giggle and Harry clutch his chest.

“You won’t be doing that once the baby’s born,” Harry told George, whose wife Angelina was only a couple of weeks away from giving birth to their first.

“Exactly,” George grinned. “Best to use up my recklessness now before being a new father wracks me with nerves.”

“Can I leave Teddy here with you for a bit while I pick up some shopping? You don’t mind, do you, Teddy?” Harry asked his godson, who was too engrossed playing with a whoopee cushion to hear Harry’s question. “Teddy,” he called louder. “I’m going to get the boring stuff while you stay with George, alright?”

“Alright,” Teddy agreed. “George, what happens if you open the Tiny Twister? Will it ruin the shop? Can I open it?”

Happy that Teddy would be occupied for at least an hour—not that Harry even needed that long—he set off into Diagon Alley to pick up the bits he needed for the house. Teddy wasn’t fond of shopping unless it was something he was interested in, so Harry would get it done quicker without him.

Harry had made it halfway up Diagon Alley when he noticed Malfoy and Sue handing out leaflets to people as they walked by. Sue waved when she saw Harry, and Malfoy’s hand promptly flew to check his hair when he saw Harry approach.

“How’s it going?” Harry asked, looking down at the small basket they had floating alongside them which was filled with leaflets.

“Well people take anything if you shove it at them while they’re walking,” Malfoy answered dryly. “But we can’t make them read it. Or we can, but doing so would supposedly be too unethical.”

“Yes, only supposedly,” Sue retorted, rolling her eyes. “Great; the bald guy’s back with a friend.”

She jerked her head towards two rather rough looking men, who were eyeing Malfoy and Sue with a great deal of disgust.

“I’m sorry if I ever came across as big a jerk as they do,” Malfoy murmured just loud enough for Harry to hear.

“Don’t worry; you were always much more elegant in your hate,” Harry assured him.

“Hey, fags!” one of the men called as they approached. “Why don’t you go back to sucking cocks in filthy bathrooms where you belong.”

“Oi, China girl!” The other said with a nasty leer towards Sue. “One night with me and you’ll be back to loving men.”

A woman walking with her daughter hissed in disgust at the man’s words, but hurried away without saying a word.

“Are you a man?” Sue retorted smoothly, fingers clenched around her wand. “My mistake; I thought you were nothing but a racist worm.”

“Both of you better fuck off,” Malfoy snarled, “or I’ll show you what I learnt with the Death Eaters.”

“Do that and you’ll go to prison,” the bald man warned. “Or maybe that’s what you want; I hear prison showers are made for freaks like-”

The man screeched as Harry’s Stinging Hex hit him in the face, Harry having reacted instinctively at the word ‘freak.’ It just triggered something in him that Harry felt unable to control.

A crowd had gathered around them now, and the men were trapped as Harry rounded on them furiously.

“Voldemort hated people for being different, too,” Harry spat, anger coursing through his veins. It wasn’t quite rage, though; it was an almost exhilarating bitterness, driving him to make a change and fight the injustice. “Voldemort wanted to hurt those people, oppress them, and try and force them to change. And if you think I stopped him only to have arseholes like you turn that hate onto another group of people, you can think again.”

The crowd was murmuring, louder and louder, and Malfoy and Sue started pressing leaflets into the hands of everyone around them. Harry heard the words, ‘stop hate’, repeated over and over again.

All it took was a dark glare to get the men to scamper, and though the crowd still lingered, it was because most of them were busy reading the leaflets that they’d been given.

“Anger’s bad for you but you work it well,” Malfoy said into Harry’s ear, pressing against him. “Let me buy you a drink tonight to say thank you. It will just be the two of us.”

Harry rather liked that idea.


Naturally, Malfoy took Harry to a gay bar.

It was down Canal Street, which Malfoy had previously told Harry was the centre of the gay scene in Manchester.

The bar, as the street name suggested, was overlooking the canal, and had scantily clad men working behind the bar. The small dance floor was heaving with people, and the place that Harry and Malfoy had managed to find a seat was so cramped that Harry may as well be sitting in Malfoy’s lap.

“This is quite usual for a Saturday night,” Malfoy told Harry, seeming completely relaxed despite their extremely close contact. “People come from all over just to have a night out on Canal Street.”

“I’m not used to this sort of thing,” Harry admitted, pulling his drink close to him to save it getting spilled as people bustled past. “I haven’t really been out for a long time.”

“Not even on dates?” Malfoy asked innocently, giving Harry a small smile.

“The last person I properly dated was Charlie,” Harry said. “And we never came to places like this.”

“So why don’t you enjoy yourself tonight; dance with someone?” Malfoy suggested, running a finger around the brim of his straw. “You probably haven’t noticed but there’s a lot of men eyeing you up.”

“What? Really?” Harry exclaimed in bewilderment. “If they’re looking at anyone it’s got to be you.”

He only realised how that sounded when Malfoy started smirking at him.

“I mean…” Harry spluttered. “Just, what are they going to see in me?”

“Aside from the fact you have a brilliant combination of just-fucked hair and doe eyes?” Malfoy drawled. “I’m not telling you to sleep with anyone, Potter; I just thought you might like to dance. Look, just try catching a guy’s attention and I bet he’ll come crawling over.”

As Harry’s only other option was telling Malfoy that if he wanted to dance with anyone, it would be him, Harry decided to smile at the first guy he saw who looked like Malfoy’s opposite.

That guy ended up being a broad-shouldered, bearded brunette who started moving towards Harry the second he saw him smiling.

Harry looked at Malfoy in alarm, but Malfoy only looked amused.

“Hi,” the man said, offering his hand. “I’m Chris. Would you like to dance?”

Harry looked at Malfoy again, who shoved his shoulder lightly in encouragement.

“He’d love to,” Malfoy told Chris, who eagerly led Harry onto the dance floor.

Chris positioned himself behind Harry, putting his large hands on Harry’s hips as he guided his movements to the music. Without seeing Chris’s face, Harry could almost imagine that it was Malfoy dancing with him.

Merlin, how had it got to the stage that Harry had become so enthralled by Malfoy?

It was probably because of that why Harry felt so strangely hurt that Malfoy had been so insistent that Harry dance with someone else, but that hurt fell away when Harry caught sight of Malfoy staring at him.

Malfoy looked entranced, his gaze focused entirely on Harry. His eyes locked with Harry’s, and then Harry was trapped too, unable to look away from that smouldering look on Malfoy’s face.

Chris’s hands tightened on Harry’s hips, and his breath was hot in Harry’s ear as he whispered, “is he your boyfriend?”

Harry shook his head, and Chris chuckled.

“Well he wants to be something, the way he’s looking at you. Do you want to give him a bit of a show?”

Well if Malfoy was going to push Harry to dance with someone else…

Harry kept his gaze on Malfoy, but he allowed Chris’s hands to move his hips in more grinding motions, his whole body swaying against Chris’s. The music was thumping, Harry’s entire body tingling with the force of it, and still he didn’t take his eyes off Malfoy.

Chris dropped his head down to nuzzle Harry’s neck, and Harry saw Malfoy lick his lips almost hungrily at the sight.

Harry was so hard now, but it wasn’t from the way Chris was grinding against him; it was from the sight of Malfoy watching him—of Harry imagining it was Malfoy behind him.

“If you want,” Chris murmured, his own hard length pressing very obviously against Harry’s back now. “We can suck each other off in the bathroom.”

“Er, no, thank you,” Harry replied.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” Chris laughed.


Harry had to Floo Hermione early on Sunday, because he didn’t think he could hold back from saying anything for the whole day.

Luckily Hermione was up, and she listened with surprising patience for someone who was being told a story about being dry-humped in a gay bar while eye-fucking someone else.

“But why would he tell me to dance with Chris if he was interested in me?” Harry whined, pressing his hands against his forehead. “But then why couldn’t he stop looking at me the whole time?”

“Maybe he likes you but doesn’t think you’re interested in him,” Hermione suggested. “Have you been flirting with him?”

Harry nodded furiously. “All the time! At least I think I have; you know I’m not a very good flirt.”

“You’re not as bad as you think you are, Harry; you just need more confidence. What did you think when you were dancing with that guy Chris?”

“I mean, it was nice,” Harry admitted. “I just kept imagining it was Malfoy dancing with me, though. Ugh, why do I feel this way? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this…you know...about anyone.”

Hermione crinkled her nose. “Although that vague description gives me so much to go on,” she said dryly. “I’ve said before that you and Malfoy have a strange sort of connection that just makes you fit together. And think about it; you’re so surprised that you’re feeling this way about Malfoy, so maybe he’s reacting the same way to his feeling about you. I don’t want to promise anything, but it seems like he’s attracted to you.”

“Well QWAH are marching in Hogsmeade next weekend,” Harry said. “So I’ll see Malfoy there. Do you think I should just up the ante and flirt hardcore?”

“If you think that will work,” Hermione smiled. “It’s worth a shot, at any rate.”


It was at his first march for QWAH that Harry realised that Malfoy was perfectly suited to leading an activist group. Malfoy was in his element, flitting from person to person and telling them what they needed to do and where they needed to be.

Malfoy was able to put his desire to be in charge to good use, and it took control effortlessly.

“Here, hold this,” Malfoy said to Harry, passing him a picket sign which read, ‘Did we have to vote on your marriage?’ “You’ll be marching up the front with me, Padma and Susan. The public admire you for some reason; it’s almost like you saved them from a tyrannical dictator or something.”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed. “It’s probably just because of my combination of just-fucked hair and doe eyes, though.”

Malfoy sniggered, before moving off to hand out some more signs.

Harry went to join Padma and Susan, who were standing hand-in-hand as they waited for the march to start.

“Not that I didn’t appreciate it, Harry,” Padma said as he approached. “But maybe let’s not hex anyone today. Those pricks at Diagon Alley deserved it, but we don’t want to give off a bad image.”

“Are you serious, Padma?” Malfoy said, hooking an arm around Harry’s shoulder as he joined them. “If they’re going to forgive any one of us for hexing someone, it will be the Golden Boy here.”

Harry gave a weak smile, trying not to show how much he enjoyed having Malfoy’s arm around him.

“I didn’t mean to hex him, exactly,” Harry murmured. “It’s just when he called us freaks, just reminded me of my aunt and uncle. They used to call me a freak because I was different to them by being magical, so the word just brings back bad memories.”

Padma gave him a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright, Harry; I’m not mad or anything.”

Harry felt somewhat disappointed when Malfoy pulled his arm away from Harry so that he could shout to the crowd, holding his wand to his throat to amplify his voice.

“Alright, everyone,” Malfoy called. “We’re going to have a slow march through the village streets, and then we’ll stop in the square. Hand out as many flyers as you can, and if people try to argue with you then either debate back or walk away if you feel uncomfortable. Use magic only defensively, but hopefully it won’t come to that. Just march with determination and pride, and show everyone that we’re people too. Let’s go.”

The atmosphere was exhilarating, charged with deep desire for change and positive vibes. It felt great to Harry, marching with people who all wanted the same thing; equality and respect. Though there was an expectation for cruel comments, none of the marchers seemed to care, knowing the importance of what they were marching for.

Harry relayed this to Malfoy. “This feels great,” he grinned, almost buzzing with excitement. “Is this what you feel every time?”

“Pretty much,” Malfoy said. “I told you before, Potter, I know I made bad choices in my past and this is my repention for that. Every little thing I can do to make a difference, I’ll do. Even if we win the same-sex marriage vote, that doesn’t mean the fight is over. But it feels nice to be on the good side for once.”

As they got deeper into Hogsmeade, more and more residents left their houses to see what was happening. Some took one look and disappeared back inside with expressions of disgust on their faces, but others took flyers, and the marchers even got a few cheers of support.

It was seeing Professor Sprout that took Harry most by surprise, who was being followed closely by Professor Grubbly-Plank. Both of them were holding rainbow flags, and as they got nearer Harry spotted QWAH badges on their clothes.

“Are those two-?”

“A couple? Yes,” Susan answered proudly before Harry could finish his question. “They’ve been together about fifty years. Pomona really helped me when I started to understand my sexuality; she’s like an aunt to me.”

“Hello!” Sprout said cheerfully as she approached the front of the march. “Sorry we’re a bit late. Harry, how lovely to see you!”

“Hello, Professor,” Harry smiled, which made Grubbly-Plank laugh.

“You’re not a student anymore, Harry,” she said gently. “It’s Pomona and Wilhelmina, please; being called Professor by adults always makes me feel old.”

At first Harry thought his enthusiasm would dim from marching with his ex-professors, afraid that he might feel self-conscious around them. Pomona and Wilhelmina, however, were so lively and zealous that they only spurred Harry on further.

By the time the group reached the square, a large crowd of Hogsmeade residents had formed, mostly consisting of younger generations. Harry did receive a few dirty glares from elderly women and pompous looking men who were in and out of the shops, but even they couldn’t bother Harry and ruin his good mood.

“There’s a spark in your eyes, Potter; I like it,” Malfoy said, giving Harry a dazzling smile. “There’s a party tonight; you should come.”

“What kind of party?” Harry asked. “I don’t know if that’s my thing.”

“Just a house party,” Malfoy purred. “What if we make it our thing? I’m not inviting you to the party, Potter; I’m inviting you there with me.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.”

Malfoy was trying to act cool, but Harry could detect the nervousness in his voice. It was rather endearing, but Harry had made up his mind before that.

“I’d love to go with you, Draco.”


The music was so loud that Harry could hear it thumping even outside the country house, which was lit up with brightly shining orbs in a rainbow of colours.

Draco had told Harry that Blaise lived in the house with Pansy Parkinson, and both of them were renowned for holding the best parties. It wasn’t only QWAH members who were invited, but Draco assured Harry that Pansy wouldn’t stand for homophobia or transphobia.

Apparently a party-goer had once referred to Blaise as ‘it’, and several people had turned around to hex the bloke unconscious before turning back to their partying as though nothing had happened.

It all sounded a bit hardcore to Harry, but like Hermione had said earlier on their firecall, he could always leave early if he didn’t like it.

Somehow the music was dimmer inside, spells no doubt making it so people could actually hear one another. Draco led Harry through the house to a large, darkened room, which was lit by the same orbs as the ones on the outside of the house, bathing the revellers in bright-coloured lights.

Harry felt stickiness on his feet almost as soon as he stepped into the room, and when he looked down it was to see a mass of silver glitter which was already clinging to his shoes and the hems of his jeans.

When he looked back at Draco he saw similar sparkles in Draco’s hair.

“That glitter gets everywhere,” Draco said with amusement. “You’ll be washing it out for days.”

A server appeared with a tray of drinks which looked as though they had glitter in them, too.

The cocktail was a vibrant blue, made up of things that Draco promised Harry he didn’t want to know. It tasted fruity and sweet, and had no doubt stained his lips teal if the colour of Draco’s lips was anything to go by.

“Do you want to dance?” Draco asked, holding out his hand.

“Are you trying to get me to dance with a strange man again?” Harry answered smoothly, raising a brow.

“With me,” Draco added, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“So that’s a yes, then,” Harry retorted with a grin.

“Well if you don’t want to…” Draco said, turning away.

Harry caught Draco’s wrist with his fingers without even thinking about it.

“Let’s dance,” Harry whispered, leading Draco into the middle of the dancefloor.

He recognised a few faces; Sue and Anthony huddled together, Susan and Padma pressed together in a close embrace; but everything else went blurry as Draco tugged Harry close, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pressing their bodies flush against each other.

Harry could feel the warmth radiating off Draco, could see the glitter clinging to the ends of his hair and shining on his skin. Harry rested his arms on Draco’s shoulders and linked his hands at the back of Draco’s neck, bringing them even closer together. Now Harry was in Draco’s arms, he never wanted to let go.

Their bodies rocked against each other, swaying to the heavy beat of the music. Harry wasn’t even sure if it counted as dancing, but he knew he didn’t want it to stop. He had never felt like this with anyone before; with Ginny and Charlie it had been sweet romance and tender touches, but whatever this was with Draco left Harry brimming with desire and need.

Not wanting to stop and think about what he was doing, Harry closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against Draco’s. Draco froze beside him, and Harry hastily pulled back, horrified that he’d read the signs completely wrong.

“I’m so sorry-” Harry started, staring down at the floor as he felt his face flush red.

But before he could finish his apology, Draco’s lips caught his forcefully, urging Harry’s face upwards as Draco kissed him hungrily.

Harry moaned into Draco’s mouth, tasting the sweet citrusy tang of the cocktail on Draco’s lips.

Draco’s hands dropped to cup the curve of Harry’s arse, squeezing it lightly and roughly pressing their bodies together. Harry was hard, and he could feel Draco’s own—very large—erection pressing against his.

“Do you want to come back to mine?” Draco murmured against Harry’s lips, his words heavy with unspoken promises of what would be to come if Harry said yes.

Harry didn’t trust himself to speak, feeling like his voice would crack with desire, and instead nodded and held on tight as Draco Apparated them away.

They were on each other instantly when they reached Draco’s bedroom, kissing each other hard and only stopping to tear off each other’s clothes. It had been a long time since Harry had been nude in front of anyone, but with the hungry look Draco was giving him it was impossible for Harry to feel self-conscious.

Besides, Harry was too busy staring at Draco’s lean, lightly muscled form to care about his own body, particularly when he caught sight of Draco’s erection.

Draco’s cock was long and thick, deliciously so, with the head a darker shade of pink than the rest, with a bead of pre-come already seeping from the slit.

Dropping to his knees, Harry glanced up at Draco as he pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, and when Draco moaned Harry started to tease it with his tongue.

Draco tasted salty, but not unpleasantly so, and his cock pulsed against Harry’s tongue as he trailed it down the length of Draco’s shaft and back up again. He pressed his tongue against the slit, lapping up the pre-come before taking the head into his mouth.

Draco’s hands wound tightly in Harry’s hair as he stifled another moan, biting down on his lip. Harry kept his eyes trained on Draco’s face as he took more of his length into his mouth, the weight of it heavy on his tongue. Harry only managed to get about half of it into his mouth, a testament to how well-endowed Draco was.

Harry closed his fist around the base of Draco’s cock with one hand, the other wrapping around his own aching length. He was desperate to move his hand to bring himself off, but he didn’t want to come yet. All Harry could think about was having that cock in his arse, stretching him open and filling him up.

Charlie hadn’t been quite as big as Draco, but he had still been hung and Harry had loved it. He was a self-confessed size queen, and though he wouldn’t have judged Draco for being smaller, it was only an added bonus that he was so big.

Harry pulled off Draco’s mouth with a pop, fixing him with a come-hither look.

“Do you want to come in my mouth or my arse?” Harry teased. He wasn’t normally one for dirty talk, but something about Draco made him want to be.

Draco seemed to appreciate it, too, licking his lips as he helped Harry to his feet.

“Your arse, if you’re willing,” Draco uttered softly, leading Harry to the bed and pushing him onto it.

“Very,” Harry promised, spreading his legs wide. “I want to feel you stretching me open with that massive cock.”

“Oh?” Draco purred, quickly catching on to Harry’s obvious size kink.

He crawled slowly onto the bed, stopping just in front of Harry. His hands pressed flat against Harry’s thighs, long fingers moving circles on his skin.

“I’ll get you ready for it,” Draco murmured, lowering his head and tracing his tongue up the inside of Harry’s thigh and across to the other. “I’m going to open you up with my fingers, and swallow your cock so you’re nice and relaxed for me. I’m going to slide inside of you so easily. Reach under the pillow for the lube, will you?”

Harry did so, tossing the small tube to Draco. Draco uncapped the lid just as he took Harry’s cock into his mouth.

Harry moaned loudly, fingers clutching at the bedsheets as the tight warmth enveloped his erection. A slick finger traced the rim of his arse before pressing inside, slowing moving in and out before a second finger was added.

Draco’s suction on his cock was teasing, slow and gentle but tight around his cock. Harry pressed his hips up, aching for more, but Draco’s other hand pinned him down. He could feel his arse clenching around Draco’s fingers, and he breathed deeply as a third finger began to press into him, giving that familiar stretching sensation.

Draco worked his fingers and in out of Harry slowly, opening him up ready for Draco’s cock. Draco crooked his fingers to find Harry’s prostate, and when he did Harry let out a loud whimper, the sound continuing as Draco’s fingers stroked that spot inside him.

“I’m ready, Draco; I’m ready,” Harry urged, grinding against Draco’s fingers.

Draco’s warm mouth left Harry’s cock, his lips slick with spit. “You sure?

“I’m sure,” Harry answered with a nod. “How do you want me?”

Draco withdrew his fingers from Harry, pausing for a moment.

“On your knees; arse up, face down,” Draco decided, lubing up his erection as Harry got into position.

He felt so on display like that, his arse and his hole right on show for Draco. Harry felt his face flush as Draco’s hands pressed onto his cheeks and spread them apart; Harry wasn’t especially embarrassed, but it had been so long since he had been this intimate with someone.

Draco placed a kiss to the base of Harry’s spine before positioning himself, the head of his cock pressing against Harry’s hole. His hands grasped at Harry’s hips as he pushed in, the slick walls of Harry’s arse gripping tightly around Draco’s cock.

“Breathe, Harry,” Draco reminded him gently.

Harry felt so full, and wished he could see the rim of his arse stretched around Draco’s wide cock.

Draco pulled out and pushed back in slowly, taking short, gentle thrusts to allow Harry time to get used to the penetration. He gradually built up the speed and power of his thrusts, and when he found Harry’s prostate Harry let out a loud moan.

Urged on by Harry’s breathless moans of pleasure, Draco started to fuck Harry harder and harder, using his grip on Harry’s hips as leverage. Harry jerked his own cock in rhythm with Draco’s thrusts, his erection pulsing hot in his hand.

Draco’s breathing was getting more and more ragged as he got closer to completion, a constant stream of “fuck”s falling from his lips.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my come, Harry,” Draco moaned. “Do you want that? Do you want me spilling myself inside you?”

“Mmm, fuck yeah,” Harry purred, breath hitching as he felt his own orgasm hit, his seed coating his fingers as he pulled at his cock desperately.

“Fuck, Harry! Fuck!” Draco cried as he came, spilling inside Harry with short, shuddering thrusts as he finished.

Draco pulled out of him and Harry allowed his body to fall flat, Draco dropping gratefully on top of him. He rolled off Harry, summoning a blanket to drape over them both as they drifted off into a relaxed sleep.


Apparently Draco was not a morning person, as became very evident when Draco simply groaned into the pillow when Harry shook his shoulder.

“I’m just going to get a coffee,” Harry said, and Draco grunted in response.

Harry got out of bed and stretched, his arse feeling pleasantly sore from the night before.

He didn’t normally do casual sex, though more because he never had time for it rather than having anything against it, but he didn’t regret it in the slightest. And then, was it even casual sex, or was it something more?

Harry was definitely attracted to Draco, and Draco was obviously attracted to him, too. But whether Draco thought there was more there than just physical attraction and chemistry, Harry didn’t know. If Draco wanted to pursue a relationship with him then Harry would be happy to do so, but if it had just been sex for Draco, Harry would be somewhat disappointed but he’d support Draco’s choice. It wasn’t worth losing their tender friendship over, and even having Draco as a regular casual sex partner would be alright with Harry.

He found his jeans crumpled on the floor, but gave up trying to find his shirt and picked up Draco’s instead. It fit him well, aside from being a bit too long in the arms.

Harry trudged downstairs to find the kitchen, and when he did find it he discovered Padma and Susan already sitting at the small dining table.

“Crap, I forgot you two lived here,” Harry said, unable to look either of them in the eye.

They exchanged an amused look with each other, before Susan stood and pulled a chair out for Harry.

“Sit down,” she smiled. “I’ll get you a drink. Tea? Coffee?”

“Coffee, please. Milky with two sugars.”

Harry tried not to wince as he sat down, but Padma noticed and her amused smile grew.

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed, Harry,” she said lightly. “We were wondering if you and Draco would ever give in to that sexual tension between you.”

“Were we that obvious?” Harry asked, taking a grateful bite of the english muffin that Susan pushed in front of him.

“Just a little bit,” Padma smiled.

“At least Draco will be in a good mood,” Susan said happily as she sat back down, sliding a mug over to Harry. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so smitten with anyone before.”

“Smitten?” Harry repeated, as Padma said Susan’s name warningly.

It was Susan’s turn to blush. “I just mean that I think Draco would like more than just something casual with you. But I might be wrong; don’t take my word for it.”

That was pleasing to know.

Susan and Padma were good company, as they subtly changed the subject and started asking Harry about Ron and Hermione instead. All the while their hands were linked together on top of the table, Susan’s thumb rubbing soft circles into Padma’s skin. They looked so happy together, and so in love, and Harry was pleased for them that they had found each other. It must be nice to have that feeling for someone, a different kind of love than love for friends and family.

“Feel free to use the shower,” Susan said once they’d finished breakfast. “We’re done in the bathroom, and Draco isn’t much of a morning person if you hadn’t noticed.”

Harry decided to take them up on that offer, hoping that Draco would be up soon before Harry had to leave to get back to Teddy.

The shower was delightfully warm, and it was nice to have the time to just relax without having to worry about semi-unattended children causing mayhem. Harry was so lost in the invigorating steam and heavy scent of lemons that he almost jumped out of his skin when the shower door slid open.

“You prick!” Harry cried, clutching as chest as a nude Draco stepped into the shower with him. “Couldn’t you have got my attention first?”

Draco looked delightfully amused, a wicked smile on his lips. “I was going to, but then I caught sight of that lovely body of yours and got distracted.”

Draco leant in to kiss Harry, and they clutched at each other’s arms as the water sprayed down on them, making their movements slick and wet.

Draco’s erection was poking into Harry’s thigh, and Harry felt himself growing hard rapidly in response.

“I just got clean,” he moaned lightly, although it was really no bother to him if he got sticky again.

“We’re in a shower, Harry,” Draco pointed out with a smirk. “Turn around and face the wall.”

Harry did so, placing his hands on the shower wall at each side of his head. The shower spray was hitting his lower back, making it tingle, and the sensation brought a smile to his face.

“I’m sore,” he said as he felt Draco’s cock poke into his arse cheek, because as much as he’d enjoyed last night, Harry didn’t think he’d be able to take Draco again so soon.

“Don’t worry,” Draco murmured, using his hands to spread Harry’s cheeks apart. “I’m not going inside you.”

One of Draco’s hands came round Harry’s body to grasp his cock, while his own thick erection pressed against the crease of Harry’s arse. Draco rubbed against Harry, sliding his cock between Harry’s arse cheeks while his fingers slowly jerked Harry off, using the soapy water to guide the movement.

Every so often the head of Draco’s cock would catch on Harry’s rim, but he never tried to go against Harry’s wishes and push inside, repositioning himself instead.

Harry moaned as Draco’s mouth found his neck, sucking at the skin and teasing the marks he left by trailing his tongue across them. Harry came over Draco’s fingers with a cry of his name, panting heavily as Draco finished rubbing against him until he released against Harry’s back.

Harry tilted his head to give Draco a shaky smile, kissing him softly when Draco lowered his head.

After that Harry finally got to finish his shower, though it took longer than usual due to large amounts of lazy kisses between him and Draco, not that he was complaining about the reason for the delay.

Draco even invited Harry to stay for lunch, and didn’t seem at all put out when Harry said he’d have liked to but he didn’t have a babysitter for Teddy while Andromeda went for a checkup at the hospital that afternoon.

“Another time, then,” Draco had promised.

Harry really hoped Draco stuck to that promise.


“You’re being quiet tonight,” Hermione commented, her having done most of the talking over this Floo call. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said, voice coming out slightly strangled. “I just really love listening to your Crookshank stories.”

Hermione raised a brow skeptically, and Harry felt compelled to go on.

“Also, I may have done something that might make you mad.”

Harry loved Hermione like a sister and normally he told her everything, but somehow Harry worried that his sleeping with Draco would be too much for Hermione to handle. Which he knew would be unlikely considering Hermione had been supportive of them together so far, but maybe the thought of it wasn’t as bad to Hermione as it actually happening.

“I doubt I’ll be mad,” Hermione said. “All my anger’s still on Ron after I found those cigarettes in his pocket. So unless you’ve been hanging out with boorish Aurors…”

“I had sex with Draco,” Harry blurted out. “Twice.”

“Oh,” Hermione said in surprise. Then, “was it nice?”

“What?” Harry said blankly. “Er, nice isn’t maybe the word I’d use, but...I mean, he’ You know, Ron always used to say he thought Malfoy was so rude because he was overcompensating for not being well-endowed, but I can refute that theory now. He just”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed red, but she smiled tenderly at Harry. “A bit crass, Harry, but you sound happy. I won’t pretend that Malfoy is my favourite person, but if you like him then I’ll trust your judgement. Has he asked you to be his boyfriend?”

Harry frowned. “Er, not exactly. But he was acting like it was more than just a one-off, so I think I’ll ask him on a date somewhere and see what happens.”

“Good, that sounds a nice idea,” Hermione said. “And if you ever need a babysitter for Teddy, we’d be happy to have him. I picked up a book on peer pressure, actually, which I want Ron to read to him.

“Isn’t Teddy a bit young to learn about peer pressure?” Harry asked in amusement.

“Yes, but Ron isn’t,” Hermione smirked. “Anyway, Harry; as you mentioned how much you enjoy my Crookshanks stories, just wait until you hear what he did to my knitting supplies this morning.”


Watching Teddy smiling as she played at the magical playground, Harry began to feel that discomfort he had felt from the morning ease.

Teddy had woken Harry up early in the morning crying, saying that she wanted to look more like a girl but didn’t know how, and insisted that today she wanted to be called a girl. Harry hated seeing Teddy upset, especially as he didn’t know how he could get Teddy what she wanted. Metamorphmagus abilities could only help so far, and all else Harry could do was offer Teddy his full support.

Teddy’s tears had eased when Harry helped her pick out a dress to wear for the day and made sure to use she and her pronouns. It was the first time that Teddy had asked to be called something other than a boy or a he, and Harry had a quiet word with Andromeda to make sure that she knew about it, too. Luckily Andromeda was understanding, and had asked Teddy to help her pick which make-up she should go for.

And playing on the slide, with a pink dress on and her hair in pigtails, Teddy looked much happier. The other kids who usually saw Teddy in dungarees and with short hair seemed to accept the change without question, and Harry was glad for that.

Unfortunately for Harry, the rather stuck-up couple who always looked down on Harry for being so much younger than them had been forced to sit at his bench as all the others were full.

“It’s disgusting, isn’t it?” The mother said to her husband, jerking her head towards Teddy. “Think of the damage they’re doing to that poor boy.”

“Boys need to get rough and dirty,” the father agreed. “Not prancing about in some dress.”

“Actually,” Harry said darkly, “Teddy said she was a girl today, so I let her express herself how she wanted, rather than forcing her to play out your ridiculous gender roles.”

“That kid is a boy,” the mother retorted sharply. “I know your generation think it’s funny to mess with traditions, but you shouldn’t make children play along with those awful games.”

“Adelaide!” The father called to his daughter. “Don’t go near that sissy boy in the dress.”

Harry saw Teddy’s face crumple, and Harry was on his feet on an instant, his wand pressing against the man’s throat.

“Insult my kid again and you’ll regret it,” Harry hissed. “I don’t think the Aurors take too kindly to adults bullying children, either, and trust me when I say that the Aurors will take my word over yours.”

The man growled and grabbed his wife’s hand, and the pair of them hurried away from Harry muttering insults under their breath, shouting at their tearful daughter who didn’t want to leave the playground.

Teddy hurried over to Harry, the smile no longer on her face.

“Why did he call me that, Harry?” Teddy asked, and the innocent pain in the question broke Harry’s heart.

“Because he’s a nasty man,” Harry said softly. “Unfortunately there’s a lot of nasty people out there, but you have to keep smiling because that lets them know you’re so much better than they are. Do you want to come and meet some of my friends, Teddy? I know they’d love to meet you.”

Teddy nodded and took hold of Harry’s hand so Harry could Disapparate.

Teddy was uncharacteristically quiet as Harry led her through the Manchester streets, but Harry hoped the members of QWAH could help put a smile back on Teddy’s face. He knew they had their coffee and cake afternoon on a Tuesday, which meant there should be lots of people there who could prove to Teddy that not everyone was a jerk, and there were lots of people who would accept Teddy as they were.

When they stepped into the lounge, Harry’s eyes found Draco instantly, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him. Draco smiled back, and when his gaze spotted Teddy he hurried over to greet them.

Draco hesitated for just a moment before pulling Harry into a hug, and then dropped down on his knees to shake Teddy’s hand.

“Hello, Teddy,” Draco said. “Don’t you look pretty?”

Several other people had spotted Teddy now, and they were all eager to make her welcome. Harry loved the instant solidarity they showed towards Teddy, understanding why Harry had brought her by without even having to ask.

“What a beautiful little dress,” Oliver beamed.

“And such lovely hair!” Daphne exclaimed. “Would you like me to plait it for you?”

“Yes, please!” Teddy said with a bright smile, already seeming far happier than she had at any other point in the day.

Rolf and Blaise in particular both stayed close to Teddy as Daphne took her to a chair to do her hair, both of them having their own experiences relating to gender identity. Harry was especially glad to see the normally quiet Blaise chatting to Teddy, as Blaise knew exactly what it was like to be off the binary spectrum.

“So what happened?” Draco asked as they took their own seats on a sofa nearby. “You looked ready to kill when you first walked through those doors.”

“Just some grown-up prick calling Teddy names,” Harry said bitterly. “I see him and his wife a lot in the playground, so obviously they noticed that Teddy doesn’t always look like that. They were spewing all this rubbish about how it was damaging to children to let them stray from their gender roles, but you should have seen Teddy earlier. She was so upset, saying she wanted to be a girl but didn’t look like one properly; it’s happened other days, but today was the first time she explicitly stated a difference in gender. Rolf says she’s likely genderfluid, but things might progress differently as she gets older, and just to carry on letting her express herself as she wants.”

“You’re doing a great job with Teddy,” Draco murmured, placing his hand gently on Harry’s knee. “I’m glad you brought her here, as well. See how happy she looks?”

Teddy did look happy, chatting away with a smile on her face.

“She’s accepted for who she is here,” Harry said. “I don’t think there’s anything more important than that. My childhood was so miserable because I didn’t have that acceptance or love, and I swore I’d give Teddy the happy upbringing that I missed out on. I never want her to feel the way that I used to feel.”

It said a lot that Harry felt able to talk about the Dursleys with Draco, as he’d only ever really mentioned them to Ron and Hermione before. There were still a lot of issues there that meant Harry never got into too much detail, but it felt nice to Harry that he was comfortable enough with Draco to talk about them even a little bit.

“My parents raised me to hate,” Draco responded softly. “But at least they never hated me. The way the rumours went, you were spoilt rotten at home. I can’t believe nobody ever caught onto the fact it was actually the opposite.”

“I never made a big deal about it,” Harry shrugged. “That was the way that Dursleys wanted it, I suppose.”

He glanced at Teddy again, who was admiring her new hairstyle in a mirror.

“Hey, Draco,” Harry said. “Do you want to come to dinner at our house tonight? You don’t have to, of course, but if you wanted-”

“I’d love to,” Draco cut in. “If Andromeda doesn’t mind, that is. I know our family history isn’t exactly great.”

“Andromeda has already said to me she’d love to meet you,” Harry assured him. “It’s Bellatrix who she hates, and she knows you aren’t her. So come round about six tonight? I’ll write you down the address.”


“You’re late,” Harry said as he opened the door.

“I’m five minutes early, actually,” Draco retorted, fixing Harry with an amused look.

“You’re usually ten minutes early,” Harry argued lightly. “This is late for you.”

Draco held out a bottle of wine invitingly. “Will this make up for it?”

Harry peered closely at the label, hoping it looked like he had even the slightest idea about what made some wines better than others.

“I suppose so,” Harry smiled. “Come in, and try not to trip over anything. I did tell Teddy to tidy up her toys, but she just got some more out when she was putting the others away. Still using ‘she’, by the way.”

“Noted,” Draco said with a nod. He stepped inside, slipping his polished shoes off and leaving them by the door. “It smells delicious.”

Harry felt his cheeks flush at the compliment. “We’re having lasagna.” He beckoned Draco close, lowering his voice. “The sauce is thicker than normal because I’ve blended vegetables into it. Teddy is going through a stage where she’s refusing to eat them, so we have to sneak them in.”

“My parents never thought of doing that,” Draco murmured. “They did tell me I had to sit at the table until I finished everything, but I only had to cry a bit to get away with not eating them at all.”

“Sometimes I think you and my cousin had exactly the same childhood personality,” Harry laughed.

A door creaked open as Andromeda stepped into the hallway, leaning with one hand on her walking cane.

Draco froze, tensing ever so slightly as he stared at Andromeda. Harry had already made Draco aware of Andromeda’s striking resemblance to Bellatrix, so Harry suspected he was just nervous about how Andromeda would react to him.

“Draco,” Andromeda said with a kind smile. “Don’t you look just like your mother.”

“Really?” Draco said, sounding rather taken aback. “I heard I take after my father, mostly.”

“It’s the eyes,” Andromeda stated. “You’re definitely part of the Black family. Please, come and sit down. Hasn’t Harry welcomed you in properly yet?”

“I was getting to it,” Harry muttered, smiling as Andromeda winked at him.

Harry led Draco to the lounge, where Teddy was sat on the floor playing with a baby doll and feeding it its pretend bottle.

“Hello, Draco,” Teddy greeted, not bothering to look up. “You have to be quiet; the baby’s going to sleep.”

Draco glanced at Harry with wildly, and Harry gave him an encouraging nod.

“Alright,” Draco whispered. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

Now Draco was here, Harry was very aware how his house must look compared to Draco’s. Teddy’s things were absolutely everywhere, there were crayon coloured drawings pinned on every wall, and there were specks of paint staining the carpet which had settled before Andromeda could clean them with magic. It was nothing like the neat and tidy home that Draco shared with Padma and Susan, and though Harry loved his little house, he hoped it wouldn’t scare Draco off.

But before Harry could dwell on that, Draco had sunk to his knees on the carpet beside Teddy, offering to help look after the baby. It brought a smile to Harry’s face to see Draco step out of him comfort zone to interact with a child; it didn’t look like Harry’s house or his family would scare Draco off.

Leaving Andromeda in charge of the pair of them, Harry went into the kitchen to make the finishing touches to the food. When it was ready he called everyone to the table, and was slightly surprised to see the pink alice band that Draco was sporting on his head.

“Teddy wanted to do my hair,” Draco said seriously, while a now blonde-haired Teddy grinned behind him.

“What a marvellous job you’ve done, Teddy,” Harry informed her.

Teddy looked very pleased, and didn’t even complain when Harry asked her to help set the table.

The conversation flowed easily as they tucked in to the lasagna and garlic bread, and Teddy didn’t even suspect there were hidden vegetables in the sauce. Andromeda gave Harry a pleased grin, which went completely unnoticed by Teddy.

After dinner they sat around the table to play cards, which brought out Harry and Draco’s competitive side against each other, both of them completely oblivious to the fact that Andromeda was stealthily winning each round.

Andromeda took Teddy to bed after that, before she herself retired to her room so that she could read a book in bed and relax for the night.

“So?” Harry said, once he and Draco had settled onto the sofa together and started on the wine. “How was it?”

“Loud,” Draco answered. “Are children always this boisterous?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry scoffed. “That was quiet for Teddy. She likes you, though; her and Andromeda both do.”

Draco took a long sip of wine. “I can make myself quite likable when I want to be.”

“I’ll bet,” Harry murmured, burrowing his face into the crook of Draco’s neck.

About half an hour later, when Harry had finished his second glass of wine, he was starting to feel a bit light-headed. He wasn’t yet bordering on being drunk, but he’d had enough wine to make him not think twice about sliding onto Draco’s lap to kiss him.

Draco didn’t seem to mind, his arms automatically wrapping around Harry and pulling him closer.

Harry kissed Draco slowly and deeply, pulling softly at his hair. He could feel the hard ridge of Draco’s cock pressing against his own erection, so Harry reluctantly pulled back from kissing Draco.

“We should go upstairs,” Harry murmured, sliding off Draco’s lap and offering him his hand.

He led Draco up to his bedroom, and as soon as the door was shut Harry found himself pressed against it with Draco kissing him soundly, while deft fingers grasped his t-shirt.

They broke apart so Harry could help Draco lift the material over his head, and Draco’s waistcoat and shirt were quickly pulled off before they resumed their kiss. Draco’s hands grasped Harry’s wrists and pinned them above his head, holding Harry in place as Draco took control of the kiss.

After releasing Harry’s wrists, Draco’s hands dropped to the waistband of Harry’s jeans and used them to tug Harry forwards toward the bed. Nimble fingers unbuttoned his jeans and started to push them down, and Harry took the lead and tugged them off the rest of the way, taking his pants with them and kicking them aside along with his socks while Draco did the same.

“I want to see your face this time,” Harry said, crawling onto the bed to give Draco a nice view of his arse before he turned onto his back. “I want to see you while you’re fucking me.”

Draco licked his lips hungrily, hovering over Harry’s body as he slid up the bed.

“You’re so beautiful spread out for me like this,” Draco murmured, eagerly taking the lube offered to him by Harry to coat his fingers. “Just waiting for me to touch you.”

Draco’s arm reached down between their bodies, and then a slick finger was circling Harry’s rim, pressing inside him easily. A second finger swiftly followed, pumping in and out of him slowly at first, then faster and faster.

“Please, Draco,” Harry whined. “Quit teasing.”

“I’ve hardly touched you,” Draco commented lightly, slowing down to add a third finger. “I wouldn’t call this teasing. Do you want me to show you what it’s like to be teased?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I want your cock inside me now, right now; that big, fat, thick cock of yours pressing me open, filling me so deep that I’ll be able to feel you for days after. Fuck, Draco, please.”

Draco groaned at Harry’s words, his fingers working furiously inside Harry as he leaned back to slick his erection with lube.

“Are you ready, Harry?” Draco asked, pulling his fingers out of Harry and leaving him with a desperate need to be filled with something more.

At Harry’s nod, Draco positioned himself between Harry’s spread thighs, lifting Harry’s legs so that he could press easily inside of him.

Harry moaned, wrapping his legs around Draco to bring him in deeper. Draco took his time pushing in, allowing Harry’s entrance to grasp around him as he spread Harry wide on his cock.

Draco was breathing heavily against Harry’s neck as he began to build up a rhythm, pushing in short, fast thrusts before he started to go longer and deeper.

Harry’s hands grasped Draco’s back, his nails pressing into the soft skin as Draco found his prostate. Waves of pleasure washed over him as Draco began to pound into him, hitting that spot on nearly every thrust.

Harry reached a hand down to jerk his cock, and it wasn’t long until he felt the pressure building. It only took a few strokes before Harry was coming, his arse clenching around Draco which triggered Draco’s own release.

Draco shuddered as he spilled inside Harry, collapsing bonelessly against Harry’s chest once he was spent.

Harry’s shaky legs dropped from Draco’s waist, but his arms wound around Draco’s back to hold him close. Harry could feel the beating of Draco’s heart drumming against his skin, and the soothing rhythm soon sent Harry into a deep, content sleep.


QWAH’s final campaign to push the for-vote took place at the Ministry itself.

As Ernie had pointed out, the Ministry was one of the most busy places in the Wizarding World, and would be sure to garner the most publicity. All their previous attempts had been successful for the most part, so it was hoped that their march at the Ministry would have the same effect.

Luna and Rolf had come up with a clever idea for it, to further promote the equality aspect. They said that some Pagan customs included handfastings—binding partner’s wrists together with cords—as part of a marriage ceremony. The group had agreed that having couples tied together with rainbow ribbons would make for a great visual, as well as tying into their Pagan history and making a strong connection to marriage.

Although he and Draco were having sex, and getting very cosy with one another, Harry still hadn’t been sure if Draco was as serious about the relationship as Harry was. So when Draco asked Harry if he wanted to be tied to Draco for the march, the only way Harry could think to respond was to kiss Draco firmly.

“Did you not know I was serious about us?” Draco had said with great amusement. “Have you ever seen me smile this much at anyone else?”

Walking through the Ministry with Draco’s wrist bound to Harry’s left one, and a picket sign in his other hand, Harry had never felt prouder. He’d never felt like this after the war, when he was paraded like a hero for defeating Voldemort. Harry hadn’t gone up against Voldemort for the glory; he’d done it because he was an evil force in the world and only Harry could get rid of him.

Marching for QWAH, however, wasn’t to rid the world of evil, but to give the world more equality and fairness. It was a choice that Harry could make, whether to fight or not, and Harry wanted to fight.

Of course, his hero status certainly helped the march, because hearing that Harry Potter—the Harry Potter—was marching for an LGBTQ+ group, hand-in-hand with another man, got the gossip round the Ministry much quicker.

The most surprising part of the march was when other groups began to join them.

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil appeared, much to Padma’s sheer joy and excitement, with a banner which read, ‘We’ve seen beauty all over the world, but there’s nothing more beautiful than love, no matter the gender.’

Hermione led a large group of people, many of whom had signs reading ‘Muggle-borns against hate!’ And ‘Don’t underestimate how it feels to be treated like you’re lesser’.

Ron’s appearance had been the most surprising for Harry, followed as he was by a group of tough looking men and women—Ron’s fellow Aurors—whose signs read, ‘Have a problem with same-sex marriage? Why don’t you fight us about it?’

Draco gasped loudly when he saw his mother stood with Andromeda, holding a sign between them which read, ‘My son is my son no matter who he loves’. And as Draco hadn’t spoken to his mother for nearly a year, it was no wonder he couldn’t stop smiling after that.

In fact, everyone marching was smiling. The show of solidarity and support from family, friends, and strangers alike, was so uplifting and encouraging. And of course there were nasty comments from people who didn’t agree with them, but if felt like nothing could penetrate the delighted barrier that they had built around them.

All of it was made even more worthwhile, of course, with Draco by Harry’s side. He couldn’t have asked for anybody else to make him feel this happy.


“We are gathered here today,” Minister Shacklebolt said proudly, “to witness the marriage of Pomona Sprout and Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank.”

It was the first of what was going to be many same-sex marriages. The vote in favour had won by an overwhelming majority, and though there was still a long way to go before the LGBTQ+ community could be entirely equal in the Wizarding World, it was still a step in the right direction.

But even though it wasn’t the end to their fight, it was so very worth the win just so see the pure happiness in the faces of Pomona and Wilhelmina as they stood hand-in-hand at the altar.

Harry had been so used to seeing Pomona in gardening gear that she looked like a completely different person in her elegant wedding dress. Wilhelmina looked just as lovely in a dapper white suit, and they’d both worn their hair in a fancy up-do which Daphne had helped them with.

By the time the ceremony had finished, almost every person in the audience had welled up at least a little bit.

The cheering was immense as Pomona and Wilhelmina walked back down the aisle, now as wives, and the crowd eagerly followed afterwards to the extravagant outside reception which Pansy and Blaise had organised.

“So much yellow,” Draco commented as they took their seats at their table. “How very Hufflepuff.”

“Watch what you say,” Harry warned with a grin. “There’s Hufflepuffs all over this wedding.”

Draco laughed, and placed an arm around Harry’s shoulder to pull him close.

“They aren’t all bad, I suppose,” Draco murmured. “Hannah’s in charge of the food, and she’s an even better cook than you are.”

“Hannah won’t hide the vegetables, though, will she?” Harry grinned.

If anyone had told him a few months ago that he’d be at a wedding with Draco Malfoy as his date and boyfriend, Harry would have laughed. But now, Harry couldn’t imagine life without him. Draco fitted easily—perfectly—into Harry’s life, and never fought for attention against Teddy.

In fact, Draco did wonders with Teddy. At first he had clearly been nervous around Teddy, but Draco soon picked up on the knack of childcare, and Teddy had grown to adore him. That was a good sign, in Harry’s opinion, because if he ever had to choose between a partner or Teddy, he was always going to pick Teddy. Harry wouldn’t give up on Draco without a fight, though, that was for sure, but he hoped it would never have to come to that.

Maybe in fifty years time Harry and Draco would still be as happy and as in love as Pomona and Wilhelmina; Harry hoped they would be.

But for now, Harry was going to keep fighting for equality with Draco by his side. He was going to make a change.