“We're going out tonight,” Hermione stated in a way that let Harry know that she would not tolerate any arguing.
“Er... What about Ron?” Harry asked with a raised brow because he knew for a fact that Ron planned to work late on a new product at the shop tonight.
“That's why we're going out,” Hermione explained with a mildly exasperated tone. “Ron's been positively inspired at work lately, and while him working late and coming up with a ton of new products is good for our income, it can get a bit lonely. I figure that one of the reasons I have a best friend is so that I can go out and get pissed every once in a while and not have to worry about being molested.”
Harry nodded in agreement because he couldn't argue any point in particular. Plus, he hadn't had much time for fun lately since he'd been working so hard on a case. Now that it was solved and another former Death Eater was in Azkaban, he had time to relax. And getting pissed actually sounded rather fun.
“Yeah, alright. Just let me get changed,” Harry suggested.
Hermione promptly grinned. “You should wear that pair of trousers that makes your arse look fabulous.”
Harry raised a curious brow. “And which pair would that be?”
“Come on!” Hermione ordered as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to his bedroom closet. It took her a few minutes to rummage through all the clothes Harry had – most of which was sent to him by hopeful designers looking for an endorsement, that he rarely wore. When she finally located the item she was looking for, she burst out with a triumphant: “Aha!”
Harry took the trousers and looked them over. They appeared to be fairly standard – a sort of dark gray with a subtle light gray pin-striping. Harry bit his lip as he wondered why Hermione thought they made his arse look fabulous. Hermione correctly interpreted his look with a soft laugh.
“Just put them on,” she insisted with a knowing smirk. Then she busied herself rummaging through his closet again as he stripped off and cast cleaning charms over his body.
As Harry was fastening the trousers, he remembered exactly why Hermione had a high opinion of them. He looked over his shoulder at his arse in a full length mirror. The trousers were cut in a way that hugged his hips and rode rather low. So low that they bordered on indecent because Harry preferred not to wear underwear. To his delight, they were made with good quality fabric that felt soft on his tender bits. He subtly cast a charm to trim the pubic hair that tried to peek up over the top of the trousers.
“And this shirt should go well with – damn! I forgot how in shape you are now that you've been through Auror training!”
Harry blushed a little. “Hermione!”
“Sorry,” she muttered with a shrug. “As I said, Ron's been working a lot lately and... Anyway, you know that I would never act on the thoughts that pop up – I'm just going to stop talking now!”
With a light blush, she held up the shirt in her hands. It was a simple button up in dark blue. Draped over her arm was a vest that was light gray with an intricate but manly swirling pattern in dark blue. Thus, it managed to match his trousers and the shirt.
Harry nodded in amusement. “I feel like I'm going to be overdressed for the pub.”
Hermione waved her hand as if sweeping away nonsense. “It's the Leaky Cauldron. Most wizards wear an unknown number of layers under their robes. If anything, you'll be under dressed.”
Harry admitted that she had a point by shrugging. Then he pulled on the shirt and vest, letting her unbutton the top button of the shirt when he was finished dressing. She stepped back and looked him over critically before nodding in approval.
Harry snorted in amusement. “You'd think I was getting ready for a date or something.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “You could certainly use a date every now and then. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet someone.”
It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. “Who am I going to meet in the Leaky that I don't already know? No wait, who am I going to meet that doesn't already think they know everything there is to know about The Great Harry Potter ?”
Hermione simply shrugged. She well knew that dating was difficult for her best friend. Then she hummed in sympathy. “I do hope you meet the right person someday.”
“Yeah, alright. Let's go.”
Harry woke up with a prolonged groan and pressed his right hand to his head. It felt like he had a Hungarian Horntail swishing its tail around viciously inside his skull. The dragon might even be breathing fire behind each of his eyes.
“I am never drinking again!” Harry vowed rashly and likely insincerely. “How much did I drink anyway?”
His right hand shifted from his head to his chest and then down to his arse, which itched so he scratched it. Well, he was still fully clothed, so he couldn't have had too much fun. With an extraordinary effort, he managed to force one eye open a crack – assuming that Hermione must have used a Mobilicorpus to get him home and into bed.
Except that if she did levitate him into bed, it obviously wasn't his. As his one eye slowly searched for anything familiar – twitching as the light in the room intensified his hangover – he realized that he had no idea where he was. He wasn't home. He wasn't at Ron and Hermione's. He wasn't at Seamus' or Dean's or Neville's...
“Where in Merlin's scraggly beard am I?” Harry asked in a whisper.
There was no answer, but Harry really hadn't expected one since he was fully clothed and thus probably alone. He hadn't quite managed to take full inventory of the room yet though, so maybe there was someone passed out just beyond the limited range of his one half squinted eye. It took Harry a full minute longer than it probably should have to wonder if his wand was still in his pocket – in which case, he might have luck casting a spell to get rid of his hangover.
Just as his hand was feeling up his pocket, there was a groan of obvious pain from somewhere off to his left. Somewhere very close. Such as right next to him in bed. Harry scrunched his face up in confusion as he wondered how exactly he managed to pass out in a bed with someone without getting naked and having fun first.
This made him realize that he had absolutely zero memories of last night. Well, at least none beyond getting dressed and leaving to go have drinks at the Leaky with Hermione. Panic set in for a good three heartbeats as he realized that he was probably in bed with his best friend after doing who knew what!!!
His eyes flew open, making his head thunder all the more painfully, and then he whipped his head to stare in wide-eyed horror at – no wait, phew! It wasn't Hermione. It was only Draco Malfoy, and come to think of it, Harry was still fully dressed, so even if it had been Hermione, it was more than likely nothing had happened.
Relief so profound that it almost felt orgasmic filled him so that he could close his eyes and try to come up with a solution to his hangover problem and – wait just a bloody minute!!! Apparently being both hungover and probably still at least a little drunk had made him stupid because it had literally taken him five seconds too many to realize that he was in bed with Draco sodding Malfoy !
What the? How the? When – no wait, why???
“I'm going to bloody well murder you Pansy if you don't give me a hangover potion right now,” Draco muttered in a tone positively dripping in venom.
Harry didn't reply because he was too busy staring at Draco in both shock and horror.
Draco's eyes opened and he squinted at the painting on the wall just beyond the foot of the bed. “Where in Salazar's grave am I?”
This prompted Harry to wonder the same thing. Only now – though he still stared at Draco with wide eyes – he had just enough presence of mind to assemble all the little visual clues he'd gathered from his earlier one-eyed investigation and come to the conclusion that they were probably in a muggle hotel room.
“And why don't I remember how I got here?” Draco asked as he pressed his right hand to his head. This action caught both of their attention because his movement was inconveniently hindered. His eyes went wide as he realized first that he was handcuffed to someone, and second...
“ Potter?!?! ” Draco blurted out incredulously. “Why in Merlin's raunchy hole am I handcuffed to you? And Wait! Did we...?” Draco's left hand immediately patted along his body until he sighed in relief. “Apparently not.”
By this point, Harry'd had just enough time to half absorb the situation. He decided to wind the prickly bastard up. Changing his expression to something he hoped looked either hurt or offended, he half whispered: “You mean that you don't remember all those things you did to me?”
Draco shifted to get a slightly better look at Harry, and then winced and pressed his left hand to his head. With a deep breath to control the pain, Draco glared at Harry. “Couldn't have done anything too bad if we're both still fully dressed.”
“See, that's the thing, we both got dressed after you were finished with me so that we could leave and never speak of this again, only that's when you decided that you didn't want to let me out of your sight until you were sure I wouldn't hunt you down and hex you into a month long stay in St. Mungo's. I was still so drunk at that point that I passed out. You must have too.”
“Er...” Draco closed his eyes and thought this over very carefully for a few long moments, and then growled softly in frustration. “Are you serious?”
Harry bit his lip to hide a mischievous smirk. The strangest thing of all was that the longer Harry was awake and putting one over on Draco, the less his head hurt. He was starting to feel more devious and less hungover.
He turned his head toward the pillow and covered his face with his cuffed left hand. “Bondage seemed to be the theme of the night, so I'm really not surprised that you cuffed us together like this.”
Draco's eyes went wider than ever and almost popped out of his head as he stared at Harry. “Wha...?”
“You had me tied up so well that I couldn't move! And then you stuck practically every part of your body up my arse – your tongue, your fingers, your –”
“Wait, what? ” Draco demanded incredulously as he sat up. Harry had to wonder if the rather good looking Slytherin was also starting to feel less hungover since he no longer seemed to be wincing in pain.
Harry peeked through his fingers at Draco. “You seriously don't remember?”
But Draco could only gape at Harry.
Harry let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I guess then I can pretend it never happened. Just let me out of these cuffs and I'll be on my merry way – and no, I won't hex you because I don't want to have to explain to anyone exactly why I did so.”
“ Why would you let me do that to you?!” Draco finally regained just enough composure to ask.
“I was a bit tied up and didn't have my wand,” Harry stated with a light glare.
“But... but...” Draco buried his face in his left hand. “Merlin's deformed left testicle! I apparently violated the Savior of the Wizarding World and don't even remember it,” he muttered unappreciatively.
Harry let a smirk twist his lips for a moment since Draco wasn't looking at him. Then he frowned as something occurred to him. “Wait, so it's the not remembering part that bothers you? Not the actually doing it part?”
Draco threw his hands out helplessly, tempted to give into the urge to start laughing like an insane muggle clown. Or an entire posse of insane clowns. Insane Clown Posse? Is that even a thing?
“I am frankly amazed that – even drunk – you let me do anything at all to you. The fact that I apparently let my normally tightly controlled sexual freak out just makes me wonder all the more exactly how drunk I got and what I drank that I don't remember a thing after getting dressed and leaving to go out for drinks with Pansy.”
Harry sat up and frowned as he thought about that. The Auror in him was definitely suspicious that they both had nearly identical memories. He almost ended his game in order to interrogate Draco, but Draco prevented him by sighing heavily.
“Look, I apologize if I hurt you in any way. I'm normally a very attentive lover. I like to be certain that my partner has an orgasm or two before concentrating on my needs. It's only when I'm rather drunk that I treat my partner like an object that exists solely please me.”
Harry felt his mouth go dry. Honestly, it had been a while since he'd had sex of any sort, and the last time had been a rather quick one off in the loo of a muggle club. If somebody actually did any of what Draco had just described to him, he'd probably be willing to make them breakfast in bed for the rest of their lives. He swallowed as he decided to take a risk.
“If you're serious about being sorry, I can think of a way for you to make it up to me,” Harry said, tilting his head to look at Draco rather intently.
“Er... That sounds...” Draco was confused because it sounded suspiciously like Harry was suggesting that they have more sex. But this was Harry Potter! It's not like the two of them had ever been attracted to each other, and actually, they'd been rather antagonistic for most of their lives.
“If you really are sorry for all those things you did to me, then make it up by proving that you really are an attentive lover. If you actually can give me an orgasm or two, I'll consider this all water under the bridge.”
Draco felt his mouth go dry. He was tempted to pinch himself to see if he was actually still dreaming. This seemed like the beginning to one of his wank fantasies. The scenario that Harry had described – him tied up and at Draco's mercy – was another one. It seemed far too good to be true that Draco had not only fulfilled one fantasy (that he sadly couldn't remember doing) and now had an opportunity to fulfill another.
“Er..... Let me get this straight... You want me to shag you?”
Harry merely shrugged, frankly amazed that Draco not only had no trouble believing Harry's impromptu story, but was interested in making amends for it. Via shagging. If Harry had ever given it any thought before, this wasn't how he would have thought this situation would play out.
“Well, it's not like you haven't already had me in every way imaginable,” Harry murmured, looking away in an attempt to pretend to be shy.
“Merlin's inverted nipples!” Draco blurted out. “I'd give a good half of the Malfoy fortune to remember that!”
“I tell you what, if you impress me now, I'll consider a repeat when we are both sober and will remember it,” Harry bargained, and then felt a tiny twinge of remorse for basically manipulating Draco into a sexual encounter. Or two. However, Harry wasn't forcing him; Draco was free to say no. Not to mention, he was a Slytherin and manipulation was part of what he had for tea each day.
Draco looked surprised. “So... not only am I going to get a chance to shag you now, but I might get to tie you up and have you at my mercy again in the future?”
“If you manage to impress me,” Harry reminded him.
“Oh, Ill impress you,” Draco stated confidently. “I'll impress you so much that you won't be able to think straight for at least a week.”
Harry chuckled and slowly shook his head. “I sincerely hope so since it's been a long time since anyone has managed to do so.”
“Any idea where I put my wand?” Draco asked, looking around the room again.
“I can't find mine either,” Harry admitted with a frown.
Draco reminded himself that the worst that could happen was that he'd need to buy a new wand, and so he was able to push aside his concern. “Well... Then I guess I'll just have to do this without any spells to make everything easier.”
“Guess so,” Harry murmured in agreement.
Deciding that he couldn't appear indecisive in the slightest, Draco shifted and busied himself unbuttoning Harry's vest and shirt. He didn't bother trying to remove either since the key to the cuffs was among the things they could not find. Instead, he licked each bit of skin as it was revealed. When he reached Harry's sinfully delightful trousers, Draco backtracked all the way up to Harry's neck, sucking and licking hot trails up and down the left side – leaving a trail of spots that varied from rather light to surprisingly dark.
Harry panted lightly, thoroughly enjoying the rare attention. He ran his hands through Draco's hair, not surprised when Draco paused to glare at him for one second before deciding that Harry could do anything he wanted. After all, it might help impress Harry if Draco let him play with the silky perfection.
Draco may not have protested the mussing of his hair, but he made his displeasure known by ceasing the long strokes of his left hand down Harry's chest and abdomen to pinch Harry's right nipple. Harry inhaled sharply, letting Draco know that he actually liked the minor abuse. This prompted him to repeat the pinching several times on both nipples even as he tried his best to suck a perfectly round and vividly purple circle onto Harry's neck.
So far, Harry was of the opinion that it really wasn't going to take Draco too much more to impress him and earn that kinky bondage session. If he had know that it really wouldn't take much to talk the gorgeous bastard into bed, he might well have tried a while ago. At least Draco didn't give two knuts that Harry was famous like all his other potential lovers did. Aside from muggles, who didn't actually know.
Draco stopped pinching those hard and rosy nipples so that he could suck on them instead. This left his hand free to wander south again. Harry's breathing suggested that it wouldn't be near as hard to impress him as Draco thought – unless simply orgasming wasn't enough to impress him. This meant that Draco was going to have to wow him as much as possible. Good thing he knew things...
Without pausing in his efforts to suck on Harry's nipples, Draco opened the surprisingly well-tailored trousers to discovered that there was nothing under them. This shocked him just enough to make him pull back and look Harry in the eye.
“No underwear, Potter?”
Harry flushed in mild embarrassment. “Er, well, I never had any that truly fit me while growing up. They were baggy and annoying so I often forgot to put them on just because it was sometimes more hassle than it was worth to wear them. Then when I – and I admit that it probably took me far longer than it should have to realize this – but when I realized that I had enough money that I could buy my own clothes, underwear that actually fit seemed to be too scratchy or just plain uncomfortable, so... yeah... I just go without.”
“Bold,” Draco replied approvingly. “And convenient.”
Harry grinned but didn't say anything.
Draco got quiet for a moment, provoking Harry's curiosity.
“Er... how does kissing rate on the list of things that impress you?” Draco wondered since he didn't normally kiss his bed partners. Yes he was attentive to their needs, but kissing was something he had to be in the mood for and tended to reserve for people that he felt were special somehow.
“Depends on the kissing,” Harry replied with a shrug.
“Right,” Draco murmured, wondering if Harry was actually using the Slytherin technique of downplaying what he felt about things in order to throw Draco off. It took a deep breath and a few more licks to Harry's nipples before Draco could talk himself into it, but then he shifted so that he could explore Harry's mouth with his tongue while using the fingers of his left hand to gently but firmly rub the spot directly between Harry's balls and anus.
Harry was slowly beginning to feel like he was floating on a cloud of bliss. An astonishing amount of time passed exactly like this before Harry realized that he had entwined the fingers of his left hand with the fingers of Draco's right one. They weren't just cuffed together, they were actually holding hands! This nearly floored Harry more than the glorious snogging!
Even better, whatever magic Draco was working by massaging that highly unlikely spot was slowly making Harry feel like he was melting into a pool of lava. Without warning, Harry was overwhelmed by a full body shudder that felt like he was having a seizure, but it was so orgasmic that Harry didn't care if he did actually need medical attention. With a gasp, Harry realized that he actually was having some sort of orgasm. It went on and on, making his head spin and his breath catch in his throat.
When he was too sensitive, he pushed Draco's hand away and decided that he was officially impressed; Draco could do whatever he wanted to Harry whenever he wanted. Before he could tell this to Draco though, the skillful blond stopped the glorious kissing – that Harry immediately missed with a soul deep ache – and short-circuited Harry's brain by licking his shaft from base to tip just once.
It took Draco a moment to decide if he wanted to simply push Harry's trousers down just past his arse, or remove them completely. It seemed like it might be more trouble than it was worth at the moment to remove them, so he opted to simply push them down. All he really needed was better access to Harry's shaft anyway.
When ready, he used a couple of long strokes to fully evaluate Harry's shaft. While it was true that Harry was just slightly bigger than most of the men Draco had been with, he wasn't massive or anything. He was perhaps half an inch shorter than Draco but noticeably wider. Lucky for Harry, Draco had a lot of practice sucking on Blaise's shaft, and so knew exactly how to work with this lovely girth.
Harry groaned happily as Draco proved that his mouth was more than just a deadly weapon that he unleashed on enemies and unsuspecting victims alike. The fingers of his right hand tangled in Draco's hair again, but this time, he didn't seem to notice or care. To Harry's mortification, he didn't last more than two minutes! Thankfully, Draco didn't seem disappointed as he swallowed the copious gushing, pulling off when Harry stopped sounding strangled and melted into the bed.
Taking advantage of Harry's mindless distraction, Draco pulled Harry's trousers all the way off after all and shifted so that he was holding Harry's legs up and out of the way. This gave Draco the perfect access to lick circles and stripes over Harry's tightly puckered hole. Harry sounded strangled again, which only encouraged Draco all the more.
Slowly, he frowned as he realized that Harry was far too tight for someone who had just been thoroughly used the previous night. It was possible that Harry was simply so tense most of the time that he was already tight again, but it didn't seem likely. Now suspicious but willing to give Harry the benefit of the doubt, Draco pushed his tongue into Harry to wiggle around until Harry was soft enough for a finger or two.
Using nothing more than his fingers, tongue, and plenty of saliva, Draco got Harry more than ready. It perversely delighted Draco to brush Harry's prostate at random, provoking startled gasps and yelps, proving that Harry was still sensitive from the external massage Draco had given him earlier.
When Harry started thrashing about and begging, Draco smirked in well-deserved pride in his skills. Then he shifted so that he could open his posh black trousers and shove them down just enough to free his leaking shaft. After that, he lay full on top of Harry and used a bit more saliva to lubricate his shaft.
“Next time, hopefully we'll be sober enough to remember to bring lube,” Draco murmured.
“Or at least have our wands on hand to conjure some,” Harry added. “But don't worry, I kind of like it dry.”
“Mmm,” Draco murmured noncommittally as he pushed into Harry. When he was buried deep, he took a moment to simply enjoy the feeling before pulling back and picking a medium pace – a casual pace – to begin with. “So... how much of what you told me is actually true?”
Harry was also too busy enjoying the first shag he'd had in a while for that to have made sense. “What?”
“There's no need to keep pretending like we shagged all night,” Draco informed him. “I'm fairly sure that you would have been much softer and more pliant if that was the case.”
Harry flushed and looked away. “I didn't think you'd notice something like that.” Then he took a deep breath and shrugged. “The part where I promised to let you do anything you wanted if you impressed me was true.”
“But none of the rest of it?” Draco asked with a curious frown.
“Er... no. I don't remember anything either.”
“Then why did you lead me to believe that I'd –” He paused to remember Harry's exact words. “Had you in every way imaginable?”
Harry grinned in a way that was both shameless and unrepentant. “Well, by that point, you seemed interested in shagging me, so I thought: Fuck it! Might as well make the best of this bizarre situation we landed in.”
Draco chuckled at that since he probably would have thought and done the same.
“But before that, I just wanted to see how far I could wind you up,” Harry finished explaining.
“Ah... Well played,” Draco admitted grudgingly.
Harry used his free hand – his cuffed one was once again tangled up with Draco's – on the back of Draco's neck to pull his gorgeous lover close enough to kiss. “Stop talking and pound me into the bed.”
“Well, if you insist,” Draco said, trying to sound like he was being severely put upon. He suspected he failed miserably though since he was grinning like an idiot.
A moment later, Draco maintained his moderate pace but increased the power behind his thrusts so that he was practically slamming into Harry each time. Harry let out a happy hiss, digging his fingers into the back of Draco's neck before stealing a demanding kiss.
When the kiss made Draco falter in his thrusting, Harry let him go and shifted his hand to Draco's arse instead. Draco seemed to grow even more determined to bang not only Harry, but the bed into the wall as well. Additionally, the bed wailed and protested their vigorous abuse – which would have made them both blush if they'd realized the people renting the room next door were now pressed up against the wall and listening to them quite avidly.
Enough time passed that Harry started to wonder if the bed might actually break under them. His whole body tensed up as what promised to be the best orgasm of his life crept ever closer. When he just couldn't take the suspense any longer, he reached down to tug on his shaft, triggering – yep – the best orgasm he'd ever had, so far.
Draco let out a long and low groan of appreciation as his thrusts grew rather erratic and jerky. Then he was making a sound like a growl or a soft roar as he pumped Harry full. When they were done, they both collapsed to pant and catch their breath while they enjoyed the bliss.
A long while later – long enough that they both assumed that the other had passed out – Draco shifted to look at Harry. “So... did I manage to impress you?”
“Yes!” Harry blurted out. “So many times!”
Draco grinned rather smugly. “I told you I would.”
“So you did,” Harry admitted with a happy smile. He was even happier a moment later when Draco kissed him; a series of soft and tender kisses that came dangerously close to melting Harry's heart.
Draco broke off with a mildly morose smile. “We should probably get up and look around to see if we can find our wands and the key to these cuffs.”
“Why?” Harry asked in dismay.
“I'm bloody starving!” Draco admitted far more honestly that he planned to.
Harry chuckled, feeling strangely relieved. “Yeah, I could eat.”
They slowly, reluctantly, slipped out of bed. This was when Harry realized that he was more than half naked while Draco was mostly dressed. He scrunched his face up in a slight scowl.
“Next time, you're getting naked too!”
Draco chuckled even as he put himself away and fastened his trousers. Then he helped Harry get dressed, distracting them both with kisses and last second licks to the spots that were being covered up. Harry groaned longingly, even though he didn't think he'd be able to get it up again for a while.
He cleared his throat. “I thought you were starving...”
“I am, but I can't seem to stop licking you!”
Since Harry was now dressed enough that he could go out in public without breaking any laws, he tugged on Draco's hand – the one that he was holding since they were cuffed together anyway – and led him over to the dresser. Together, they inspected every possible hiding place in the entire room, eventually finding their wands and the key in separate drawers in the bathroom.
Harry picked his up and read the note wrapped around it. You're welcome, Hermione.
“That bloody cow! I'm going to have to murder her and then buy her a vault full of diamonds for this!” Draco half shouted, sounding both outraged and genuinely impressed.
“Who?” Harry asked since he didn't think it was likely Draco was referring to Hermione.
Draco showed him the note that had been wrapped around his wand. It was nearly identical to Harry's, reading: You're welcome, Pansy.
Suddenly, Harry felt like he had been hit over the head by a bludger. “Bloody hell! Ron!”
“Er...” Draco droned in confusion, looking mildly queasy at the mention of the ginger weasel.
“How could I have forgotten that Ron and George recently developed a potion to make a person pass out for about five or ten minutes and wake up with a nasty hangover and no memory as to how they'd ended up that way!” Harry explained. “They set us up!”
“That explains why the hangover cleared up so quickly,” Draco mused. Then his expression turned sour. “It also means that we both must have been pathetic enough recently that our so-called friends thought we needed some sort of intervention.”
However, Harry couldn't find it in him to be mad. Instead, he shrugged. “Well, it worked rather brilliantly, so...”
“You're going to buy yours a vault full of diamonds too, eh?”
Harry laughed. “Well, actually, chocolate would probably be more appropriate and far less expensive.”
Rather than reply, Draco simply kissed him. “So... about that promised next time... Any idea when that might be?”
Harry groaned in mild frustration. “Merlin's moldy toe nails! I deeply regret that I won't have time until next weekend!”
Draco exhaled in relief when he realized that Harry wasn't refusing him after all. “No matter, that simply gives me time to arrange things to my liking. As for now, if I don't eat soon, I might pass out. Pansy didn't even let me have dinner before dragging me out to the pub.”
“Alright,” Harry acquiesced with a soft kiss. “And after, I say we go back to my place for the rest of the night, or morning as the case may be. And actually, if you'd like, I could make you breakfast and serve it to you in my bed.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Draco agreed before holding out his hand. Without a word, Harry Apparated them home.