Love Letters in the Sand [Harry/Draco - NC-17 - 5000]
Title: Love Letters in the Sand
Author/Artist: burnin_up_a_sun
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry
Prompt: 80 Draco hates the cold so Harry takes him somewhere warm for Christmas. (Also a photo prompt: sand at the edge of the ocean with HoHoHo written in the sand.
Word Count/Art Medium: 5,000
Rating: NC-17 for a sex scene
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: I've taken some liberties with WWOHP. also a huge thank you to the mods who were incredibly patient.
Summary: Draco hates the cold. HATES. So Harry plans the best Christmas Eve trip--to the Wizarsing World of Harry Potter, a theme park based on a 7 book biography of The Chosen One, written by Ministry employee, JK Rowling. Hilarity and sexy times ensue
The frigid wind followed Harry and Draco into the foyer, nipping at them as they removed their heavy coats. Draco slammed the front door to 12 Grimmauld Place, making it clear that he was not going out again tonight.
“I can’t take this weather any longer.” Draco whinged as he unraveled his coat and woolen scarf, both of which were soaked from the freezing rain. “Only penguins should live like this.”
Harry laughed with love, having heard this same tune every day for the past two months. “Yes, love. Penguins.” Harry pecked Draco’s wind-reddened cheek before he moved to the lounge to start a fire. Hopefully, the warmth would shut Draco up.
“My feet are frozen. I mean two blocks of ice. Toe cubes.” Draco attempted to toe the boots off, but lost his balance and pitched into the coat tree. He rubbed his head where he’d hit it on the floor. When he heard Harry call to him, Draco said, “I’m fine. Don’t come in here.” Mortified. He had all the coordination of a toddler.
In the lounge, Harry flicked his wand toward the fireplace and the flames shot to life. Maybe the warmth would stop Draco’s complaints. Harry didn’t mind the cold; he’d spent long hours as a child outside in all weather, avoiding his bully cousin. But he knew it made Draco cranky, so Harry cheerfully ignored the grumbling.
Draco joined Harry in front of the fire; he rubbed his hands to warm them and then held them out toward the flames. “This weather is miserable. My lips are chapped. My hands are dry and rough. And look at my nose. It’s bright red.” Draco gave up on his hands and turned his back to the fireplace hoping to thaw his arse.
“Thank you for going with me to hand out the blankets and mittens. We helped a lot of homeless kids tonight.” Harry slid his warm hands up Draco’s arms as Draco pouted. “And your lips and hands and nose are perfect.” He kissed Draco’s hands and lips before tapping his nose lightly with his finger.
Still grumpy, Draco pushed his butt closer to the flames. “They could have the decency to be homeless in the summer.”
“Draco Malfoy.” Harry gasped as he gave Draco a tiny shake. “You don’t mean that.”
“You know I don’t.” Over the past two years, they’d handed out more blankets, hats, and gloves than Draco thought they ever could. These nights gave him a greater sense of purpose and helped ease the shame he felt, not only for growing up privileged but also for not appreciating it.
Draco pulled Harry in closer and nuzzled his cold nose into Harry’s neck. He moved his lips up to Harry’s ear, teasing him with the warm breaths that so often led to romance. “I’m. Freakin’. Freezing.”
Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s chapped lips. “For the sake of our relationship, please. Go put on warm, dry clothes. I’ll make us something to drink, and we can open presents.”
Draco mumbled on his way to the stairs with Harry following behind laughing. “My nose is so red, that when Red Nose day comes, I won’t even need a fake one.”
Harry stopped Draco before he could climb the stairway to their room. “If you really hate the weather, we could move somewhere warm.” He dangled the prospect in front of Draco like a rope to a drowning man. Or a blanket to a freezing man, Harry thought with a grin.
Draco turned toward Harry and, with an exaggerated sigh, said, “You’re horrible. You know I love my job on The News Quiz.”
“Was I the only one who didn’t know Miles Jupp was a wizard?” Harry asked, shocked.
“He does keep a low profile for a celebrity wizard,” Draco admitted. “But compared to Sandi Toksvig, everyone is low profile.”
Harry quirked a half-smile as he watched Draco speak so animatedly about work. “Actually, W-NPR in the States does have a similar show. It’s called Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me. I checked it out; they’re always looking for new writers-if you really hate the winter.”
Draco stepped off the stair and cradled Harry’s face in his hands. “I can’t believe you looked that up for me. I love you.” He Eskimo-kissed Harry.
“Merlin’s beard! Your nose is freezing. Go get warm clothes on.” Harry pushed Draco away and rubbed the tip of his nose to warm it up. “Don’t you have any blood?”
Draco laughed as he skipped up the stairs. “Told you so.”
Harry shook his head as he headed down one flight to the kitchen. Who’s that cold ever? He plugged the kettle in for hot chocolate, and while he waited for the water to boil, he retrieved the Christmas gifts he’d hidden all over the kitchen.
He’d tucked several in the broom closet where Draco would never look, since he swore that ”Sweeping is House Elf work.” Several came from the laundry room, since Draco vowed never to touch the washing machine again after it turned his white pants pink. And Harry pulled one envelope from its hiding place behind the cleaning supplies under the sink, since Draco had said to Harry, “If you want it cleaned and you won’t let me hire a house elf, then you clean it.”
Before the water boiled, Harry grabbed the gifts and dashed up the stairs to stash them under the tree. When he heard Draco starting down the four flights, Harry returned to the kitchen to finish the hot chocolate He dropped mini-marshmallows into the mugs and added a candy cane to each one before he climbed the stairs.
“Potter! How long does it take to pour hot water over cocoa powder?” Draco sat enthroned in a Damask-covered wingback chair, a Black-family relic they’d found in one of the bedrooms. He’d changed into warm lounge trousers and a long sleeve thermal top and managed to make them look regal.
Harry plunked a Santa mug down on the table next to Draco’s elbow. Draco eyed the three marshmallows bobbing on the top and smiled.
“Just the way you like it.” Harry dropped a kiss on Draco’s head, then sat cross-legged on the floor, the colorful lights twinkling on his glasses. “C’mon down here and sit with me. Christmas isn’t a time to be sophisticated.”
Draco scoffed but folded himself elegantly onto the floor next to Harry. As the clock chimed half past 11, Draco leaned in and kissed Harry. “Happy anniversary, love.”
Harry mumbled love you against Draco’s lips before kissing him again, slow and deep. His hands caressed Draco’s back, his shoulders, his neck before Harry tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair. “You feel warmer now.”
Draco nodded as he untucked his shirt so Harry’s hands had access. “Must be from the fireplace.” He kissed Harry’s palm and then pressed his cheek against it. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “The presents can wait.” He dropped his hand to his lap, palming his cock which pushed against the fabric of his trousers.
Harry let out a strangled moan. “Actually, they can’t wait.” He drew away from Draco, breathless from want and arousal. Draco pulled him back for more, but Harry captured Draco’s hands in his and kissed them. “It’s important. You’ll understand soon.”
Draco bit his lips and nodded, taking more than a moment to breathe and to will his erection to subside. With a perverse pleasure, he noticed that Harry had the same issue.
They exchanged gifts, some silly, some useful, and some erotic. Draco eyed the Weasley Wizard Wheezes gift wrap warily on a small box, the size of a deck of playing cards. “Is this likely to explode or cause bodily injury in any way, Potter?”
“Given the history of their products, I see how you’d ask that,” Harry admitted, watching Draco turn the box over in his hands, inspecting it from all angles. He smiled with Draco’s discomfort. “Oh for Merlin’s sake, just open it.”
Draco pulled the signature, garish-orange ribbon and nothing exploded. With a huge smile, he added the ribbon to the others draped around his neck and then shredded the wrapping and tossed it on the pile by his side. As each second passed without mayhem, he grew bolder opening the gift.
Harry leaned back against the sofa and watched. He had a decent idea what Christmas at Malfoy Manor would look like: sophisticated decorations passed with care from generation to generation. Bespoke holiday robes, elegant with silver and gold threads. Dinner served at precisely 4pm in the formal dining room, and then they’d open gifts. Everything the finest. The most expensive. And occurring without Narcissa or Lucius lifting a finger.
And here was Draco on Christmas Eve, sitting on the floor in his pyjamas and wearing a curling ribbon necklace, his face flushed and laughing as he opened his gifts.
“I love you.” Harry beamed, his own cheeks glowing. He wanted to take Draco to bed, to curl into him and hold on tight, as if his body could tell Draco the things he didn’t have words for.
Fingers poised to open the plain white box, Draco looked up at Harry. “Oh, it is going to explode, isn’t it?” He lowered the box, but Harry’s smile reassured him. “Ok, here goes.”
“Oh. My.” Draco’s eyes grew wide as he took the plastic wrapped anal plug/cock ring combination from the box. “I had no idea the Weasleys sold sex toys.”
“Magical sex toys.” Harry corrected, and with a silent spell, the plug vibrated in Draco’s hand.
“Oh, you have to teach me that one.” Draco smiled and rubbed the vibrator over Harry’s nipple, sighing slowly when a moan escaped Harry’s lips.
“Can’t. Not yet.” Eyes closed and thinking about what Draco proposed, Harry barely managed to resist.
Draco growled as he returned the gift to its box, where the vibrating stopped. He looked under the tree and, finding nothing left, declared it time for bed. With a wink. He rose easily to his feet and gathered the bits of wrap and ribbon and tossed them into the fire. When Draco leaned over to help Harry to his feet, his eye caught something white in the branches of the tree. “Harry, what’s that?”
Harry busied himself picking up non-existent scraps of paper from the rug. “I don’t know. What?”
Draco reached between the branches, the short bristles of the spruce tree tickling his bare arm. “It’s an envelope. For me.” He didn’t recognize the handwriting that said, For Draco, My Love. “This isn’t your chicken scratch. But is it from you?”
Harry pulled a face that said ‘Who, me?’ Without an answer, Draco slit open the envelope and withdrew a parchment listing dates and times. “It’s an itinerary-” He still sounded confused, unsure what he was looking at.
Harry nodded, his smiling growing wider. Draco’s eyebrows were pinched as he read. “It’s a trip to Florida. And the Portkey activates at midnight.” He checked his watch, a gift that had been his godfather’s when he’d come of age. “Merlin’s beard, Harry. In 10 minutes. We can’t-”
Harry reached into his pocket and then handed Draco a suitcase the size of a match box. “Yeah, we can. As a matter of fact, we have dinner reservations at The Leaky Cauldron in 30 minutes.”
Draco raised an eyebrow but stored his suitcase in his pocket at Harry’s request. Harry pulled a battered, tin star ornament from the tree. “Grab a point,” he said, just before the Portkey activated, sending them to their second Christmas Eve, this one in the warmth of Florida.
They dropped into a corner of Diagon Alley decorated with Christmas trees and fairy lights. They passed through Customs and moved toward the Welcome Kiosk, which was located outside a set of turnstiles in front of The Leaky Cauldron, if Draco weren’t mistaken. “But--where--the Leaky’s in London…”
Harry took Draco’s hand. “Wait.”
A man in a black robe and a black conical cap greeted them. “Welcome gentlemen. Although the wizarding statutes are relaxed here, I am obligated to remind you that they are still in existence. Be attentive to your wand usage inside the theme park.”
He handed them two tickets and a map. “Enjoy your time here. We have extended hours tonight because it’s Christmas Eve.” He led them to the exit and left them with the park’s tag line spoken in monotone. “Remember. Yer a Wizard.”
Draco insisted on changing into proper clothing before they took another step. “It doesn’t matter how much you leer, Potter. This looks better,” he said as they left the men’s loo.
The interior designer of this Leaky Cauldron had created a light, inviting space instead of the dark, dreary original in London. When Harry gave their names to the maître d’, Draco pulled him back and growled a warning.
“No, I’ve heard about this. Watch what happens when we get called.” Harry wrapped his arm around Draco, pleased with himself for this entire surprise. As they waited for their table, Harry began his explanation. “Before you take the piss, yes, this place is called The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
The maître d’s announcement interrupted them. “Harry Potter. Table for two.” Five groups swarmed the maître d’s podium; on a lark, they’d all used the name Harry Potter.
Draco led Harry to the podium and jerked his thumb toward Harry. With an exaggerated British accent, he said, “His name’s actually Harry. Harry Potter. Dreadfully common name. Makes being here a bit awkward.” He flashed a brilliant smile and no one connected Harry with the Harry Potter.
When they were seated, the waiter asked them if they had wands. “Some of our menus are interactive.” The waiter used air quotes to emphasize interactive. “Tap your wand to see if yours change.” He took their drink order and left them to read the menu.
Draco withdrew his wand from the back pocket of his perfectly pressed trousers (which managed to survive having been shrunk) and touched the tip of his hawthorn wand to the back of the menu. It shimmered, and “The True Story of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter” appeared.
“Wait.” With a swish of his wrist, Harry cast a wandless Muffliato so they could talk without being overheard. “What does it say?” Harry asked, as he pointed to the menu.
Draco stared across the table, his eyebrow raised. “First, allow me to say that I am completely flummoxed why they have named this entire theme park after you, Potter." Draco said.
Harry didn’t even bother to hide rolling his eyes. “Just read the damn explanation.”
Draco cleared his voice and read:
Welcome to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, the only theme park where Wizard families mix with Muggles and Mundanes.
Prior to the second Wizarding War, the Dark Lord caused devastation in the Muggle world as well as our world. However, Muggles had no idea why they had an increase in murders, freak weather, and infrastructure collapses.
After The Chosen One
[Draco almost choked on his cough as he read those words]
defeated Voldemort, word filtered into the Muggle population of a young man named Harry Potter who was responsible for ending the horror. Parents of Muggle-born wizards violated the Statute of Secrecy, explaining Potter’s role.
The Ministry of Magic sought to neutralize the global outing of wizardry. JK Rowling, an enterprising witch in the Ministry’s public relation department, wrote a seven-volume biography of The Chosen One, and a Muggle publisher jumped on them as wild fiction.
For Muggles, the “Harry Potter franchise” of books and films became a worldwide phenomenon, netting millions of dollars. Universal Studios made the logical leap to create a theme park based upon the novels. Obviously, Muggles believe the notion that “Physics” can explain how roller coasters work, keeping the roles of wizards quiet.
Unbeknownst to Muggles and Mundanes, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is a popular vacation destination for wizarding families who can be themselves while appearing as cosplayers. We hope you enjoy your stay here. Check your park map for locations of Gringott’s ATMs and store hours.
“Merlin’s saggy tit, Harry.” Draco wiped tears from his eyes, trying to breathe through the laughter. “Or do I need to call you The Chosen One? Only quiet, unassuming Harry Potter could have an entire freaking theme park named after him.”
Harry removed the Muffliato, and the noise of the pub filled their ears. The loud conversations, the scrape of utensils on the plates. Everything seemed louder than it had when they’d walked in. “Shut the fuck up Malfoy and order.”
The two men ordered from a menu that was almost an exact replica of the one at their Leaky Cauldron. Draco looked around for Hannah Abbott, who he knew to be savvy enough to expand her business. Since she’d taken over from Old Tom, the Leaky’s food was much better, and the food here was also delicious.
As they ate, Harry guided their conversation, careful not to say anything that would violate the Statute of Secrecy. Draco had no such compunction. He pointed around the restaurant at kids wearing Gryffindor robes and round, wire glasses. Some even had lightning bolts drawn on their foreheads. “Look Potter! There you are. And there. And there.”
Harry kicked Draco’s shin, hoping he would shut the fuck up.
“Yow! Why did you kick me?” Draco kept his voice loud on purpose. A young girl at the next table looked over at them and smiled. “He kicked me,” Draco said to her, with his most winning smile. “He’s so rude.”
The girl giggled and nodded. Harry only rolled his eyes. He knew that, one day soon, his eyes were just going to stay that way.
“Why is everyone dressed like Harry Potter.” Draco’s voice weighed down Harry’s name. “Why isn’t anyone dressed like his arch-enemy, Draco Malfoy?”
“You are,” the girl said. “You got his hair and nose and eyes just right. But Draco would never wear Muggle clothing like you.”
“True,” Harry chimed in. “And the Draco from the books was so mean to Harry. They’d never eat dinner together.”
“I think you’re wrong.” She looked maybe 9 or 10, old enough to have read the books for herself. Her parents were deep in conversation, content to leave her to read. “I think they really liked each other, in the way that boys can be stupid when they don’t know how to tell someone they like them.”
Draco’s jaw fell. How had she cut through all the bullshit that took them years to see?
Harry motioned for Draco to come closer and whispered; Draco nodded as he watched the girl, whose parents were paying the waiter.
Draco motioned their waiter over and fumbled with his Muggle money to pay. They followed the other family out of the restaurant and casually tailed them.
Each time the girl waved her wand, Draco or Harry flicked theirs at the same object. Statues greeted her. Fountains streamed higher. The face on the front of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes doffed his hat. She giggled and pointed and flicked her wand more.
Occasionally she would look behind her and wave shyly to Harry and Draco. “Do you think she suspects?” Draco asked, and Harry shrugged. He was having too much fun to question the damn Statute of Secrecy.
When they reached Gringott’s, she pointed her wand at the dragon perched atop the bank. Before either Harry or Draco could mirror her intent, the dragon rose up and flew lazy circles above the dome before coming to rest again.
“What the fuck did you do?” Draco and Harry said to each other. This time, the girl saluted them with her wand, very proud of herself. She hadn’t needed them after all.
They’d wound their way back up the street to the apparition point masked by a group of carolers singing for the tourists. Harry and Draco listened for a few moments before they disapparated to their hotel room.
Draco checked the time; the clock read a few minutes to midnight. “It’s the same time it was when our Portkey left London. The magic of time zones.”
They stripped and fell into bed, too exhausted for anything more than entwining their fingers as they kissed good night.
~*~
"Merry Christmas," Harry whispered against the top of Draco’s head, his hair tickling Harry's nose. He loved the scent of Draco's shampoo, citrusy and woodsy at the same time. He inhaled and smiled at the familiarity. "What would you like to do today?"
"I think we just did it." Draco's body glistened with sweat. “And my compliments to the Weasleys for their new sex toy.” When Harry pulled the sheet up, Draco curled in closer. He put off getting out of bed to clean them off even though he knew he would regret it later. "What time is it?"
"Almost 6am. My body clock’s off, though.” Harry kissed Draco’s hair and ran his hand up and down Draco’s back.
Draco hesitated. "Your phone said it was going to be unseasonably warm today. Do you think we could go to the beach?"
Harry checked the weather app. “It's 32 today. No, wait. Americans use that damn Fahrenheit.” Harry toggled the switch on the app. “It’s 90 to them. That is the most ridiculous weather for Christmas Day.”
Draco nodded. “What do you think Father Christmas wears in Florida? Swim shorts and one of those loud Hawaiian shirts?” He grabbed a blanket from the bed to take with them while Harry took two bath towels.
“It’s early enough that I think we can apparate there.” Harry said as he held Draco’s elbow. “Who else would be crazy enough to be on the beach before sunrise on Christmas morning?”
~*~
Harry was almost right. The beach was deserted save for one fisherman, who’d dragged his webbed chair to the water’s edge. He was too busy casting his line into the surf to notice the two men appear.
Singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Draco opened the blanket and laid it on the sand, holding the corners firm with his shoes and the bag. He eyed one of Harry’s shoes for the final corner before he noticed that Harry stood shivering, rubbing his arms for warmth.
“Harry. Where’s your coat?”
“F-f-forgot it at the hotel.” The breeze whipped Harry’s curls even while he tried to smooth them down.
Draco thought Harry looked beautiful like this, carefree and happy. “Sometimes you are such a Muggle. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around Harry and cast a warming spell over the two of them. “Better?”
Harry melted into Draco and hummed. “Much better.” He tilted his chin up and kissed Draco.
They stood together, warmed from the spell and from being together. They watched the sunrise cast yellow stripes over the peaceful ocean. Draco took Harry’s hand and led him down to the water. Draco rolled his trouser legs up to his knees and waded in.
“Don’t be a git,” Draco called over his shoulder to Harry, who held back. He wasn’t stupid. That water would be freezing.
Harry pointed beyond Draco, whose back was to the ocean. “What?” The small wave splashed up Draco’s leg, soaking his twill trousers’ front.
“Cute. Cute.” Draco frowned as he looked down. “Did you make that happen?”
“Nope. Just enjoying the view.” Harry stared at the trousers that were plastered to Draco’s front. He withdrew his wand from his back pocket and cast a Tergeo to siphon off most of the water; a simple Exaresco dried the trousers.
“My hero.” Draco batted his eyelashes at Harry before he broke down laughing.
“You’re an idiot.”
“But I’m your idiot.” Batting his lashes again, Draco held his hand out to Harry, who entwined his fingers in Draco’s. They walked the water’s edge, dodging any waves that lapped close to their feet. As the sun turned from pink to orangey-yellow, they returned to their blanket.
Draco whispered in Harry’s ear as he nuzzled it. “Want to lie down with me?”
Harry nodded and transfigured one of the hotel’s towels into a warm, cozy blanket more than generous enough for two men to bury themselves beneath.
“Do you like it here?” Harry's finger traced Draco’s smile. “In Florida, I mean. I know you like it under the blanket.” His hand lingered over the swell in Draco’s trousers.
Draco sighed and arched his back, encouraging Harry. He knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good to be arrested for indecency, and they really shouldn’t do more. But at that moment, Draco needed Harry to know how much he loved him, and words wouldn’t be enough.
“I love it here. Love the weather. The sun,” Draco said between kisses that grew more heated. More intense.
“We could move here.” Harry gasped as Draco’s cool fingers slid across his
stomach and dipped into the waistband of Harry’s jeans. “I can run my foundation from anywhere.” Draco’s hand reached into Harry’s boxers. “And you could apply to Wizard NPR.” The last words were strangled as Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry’s cock, now fully hard.
“It’s something to think about.” Draco kissed Harry, slipping his tongue between Harry’s lips. He sucked gently on Harry’s tongue, and Harry’s deep, needy moans spurred him on.
He broke away, but before Harry could complain, Draco slid down Harry’s body and pulled his shirt from the jeans. Draco’s breath tickled Harry’s stomach as he slipped his tongue into Harry’s deep navel, flicking. Flicking. Harry whinged as Draco’s tongue worked the hole. “You like it when I do this to your ass, don’t you?”
Harry nodded, his tongue between his lips as he worked to remain quiet, but he lost the fight with the image of Draco working his hole. He moaned, too loud, too much, too needy.
Draco dragged the zipper down as slowly as he could. He buried his face in the fly and inhaled Harry’s scent of soap and sweat and sex. Hoping his hands were warm enough, he withdrew Harry’s cock and swallowed as much of his thick shaft as he could. The scent was stronger, even more arousing without the fabric in the way.
He pulled off, only to trace the vein with the tip of his nose and then to tongue the slit, lapping at the drops.
Harry fell apart beneath him. His breathing, the roll of his hips, his words all shredded, and Draco loved him this way.
Harry grabbed Draco’s hair and held on his he fucked into Draco’s mouth, and as he came, he chanted a song of Draco, I love you.
Draco released Harry and collapsed on his chest, feeling their hearts racing, together for now and for always. When he could move, Draco shifted his hips back to the bottom blanket. He unzipped and shoved his hand into his silk boxers; with a few uncoordinated pulls, Draco felt the tightening in his belly and balls before the lightning of his orgasm overtook him.
Harry rolled toward Draco and rested his head against Draco’s chest. They stayed that way until the air became too thick from their sex and sweat and breath. Draco folded a corner back and peaked out before he yanked it back over them.
“People! There are people next to us.” Draco’s eyes were wide, and he didn’t know whether to let loose the laugh that bubbled inside.
Harry sat up enough to see their neighbors, also two men obviously together. “They’re too interested in each other to pay any attention to us.” Harry kissed Draco and then winked. “Unless we gave them some ideas.”
Draco cleaned his hand with a spell and then removed the blanket. They stood, hoping their embarrassment didn’t show on their faces. The other men were too engrossed in each other to pay them any attention.
Harry led Draco back to the water, he used a shell fragment to write Ho Ho Ho in the wet sand. On a lark, he drew a heart and wrote HP + DM inside of it. He kissed Draco again and said, “Forever.”
Draco nodded and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Forever.”
When they couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer, Draco sighed and said, “We should go back to the hotel to pack. I have to work tomorrow.” The brightness of the sun stung his eyes, or possibly, it was from ending this day. “What you asked before-I don’t know if I could live here, but I’d love to come back on vacation.”
“Anytime, Draco. Any time you want to come back. Or move. You know I’ll go with you anywhere.”
Author/Artist: burnin_up_a_sun
Pairing(s): Draco/Harry
Prompt: 80 Draco hates the cold so Harry takes him somewhere warm for Christmas. (Also a photo prompt: sand at the edge of the ocean with HoHoHo written in the sand.
Word Count/Art Medium: 5,000
Rating: NC-17 for a sex scene
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: I've taken some liberties with WWOHP. also a huge thank you to the mods who were incredibly patient.
Summary: Draco hates the cold. HATES. So Harry plans the best Christmas Eve trip--to the Wizarsing World of Harry Potter, a theme park based on a 7 book biography of The Chosen One, written by Ministry employee, JK Rowling. Hilarity and sexy times ensue
The frigid wind followed Harry and Draco into the foyer, nipping at them as they removed their heavy coats. Draco slammed the front door to 12 Grimmauld Place, making it clear that he was not going out again tonight.
“I can’t take this weather any longer.” Draco whinged as he unraveled his coat and woolen scarf, both of which were soaked from the freezing rain. “Only penguins should live like this.”
Harry laughed with love, having heard this same tune every day for the past two months. “Yes, love. Penguins.” Harry pecked Draco’s wind-reddened cheek before he moved to the lounge to start a fire. Hopefully, the warmth would shut Draco up.
“My feet are frozen. I mean two blocks of ice. Toe cubes.” Draco attempted to toe the boots off, but lost his balance and pitched into the coat tree. He rubbed his head where he’d hit it on the floor. When he heard Harry call to him, Draco said, “I’m fine. Don’t come in here.” Mortified. He had all the coordination of a toddler.
In the lounge, Harry flicked his wand toward the fireplace and the flames shot to life. Maybe the warmth would stop Draco’s complaints. Harry didn’t mind the cold; he’d spent long hours as a child outside in all weather, avoiding his bully cousin. But he knew it made Draco cranky, so Harry cheerfully ignored the grumbling.
Draco joined Harry in front of the fire; he rubbed his hands to warm them and then held them out toward the flames. “This weather is miserable. My lips are chapped. My hands are dry and rough. And look at my nose. It’s bright red.” Draco gave up on his hands and turned his back to the fireplace hoping to thaw his arse.
“Thank you for going with me to hand out the blankets and mittens. We helped a lot of homeless kids tonight.” Harry slid his warm hands up Draco’s arms as Draco pouted. “And your lips and hands and nose are perfect.” He kissed Draco’s hands and lips before tapping his nose lightly with his finger.
Still grumpy, Draco pushed his butt closer to the flames. “They could have the decency to be homeless in the summer.”
“Draco Malfoy.” Harry gasped as he gave Draco a tiny shake. “You don’t mean that.”
“You know I don’t.” Over the past two years, they’d handed out more blankets, hats, and gloves than Draco thought they ever could. These nights gave him a greater sense of purpose and helped ease the shame he felt, not only for growing up privileged but also for not appreciating it.
Draco pulled Harry in closer and nuzzled his cold nose into Harry’s neck. He moved his lips up to Harry’s ear, teasing him with the warm breaths that so often led to romance. “I’m. Freakin’. Freezing.”
Harry laughed and kissed Draco’s chapped lips. “For the sake of our relationship, please. Go put on warm, dry clothes. I’ll make us something to drink, and we can open presents.”
Draco mumbled on his way to the stairs with Harry following behind laughing. “My nose is so red, that when Red Nose day comes, I won’t even need a fake one.”
Harry stopped Draco before he could climb the stairway to their room. “If you really hate the weather, we could move somewhere warm.” He dangled the prospect in front of Draco like a rope to a drowning man. Or a blanket to a freezing man, Harry thought with a grin.
Draco turned toward Harry and, with an exaggerated sigh, said, “You’re horrible. You know I love my job on The News Quiz.”
“Was I the only one who didn’t know Miles Jupp was a wizard?” Harry asked, shocked.
“He does keep a low profile for a celebrity wizard,” Draco admitted. “But compared to Sandi Toksvig, everyone is low profile.”
Harry quirked a half-smile as he watched Draco speak so animatedly about work. “Actually, W-NPR in the States does have a similar show. It’s called Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me. I checked it out; they’re always looking for new writers-if you really hate the winter.”
Draco stepped off the stair and cradled Harry’s face in his hands. “I can’t believe you looked that up for me. I love you.” He Eskimo-kissed Harry.
“Merlin’s beard! Your nose is freezing. Go get warm clothes on.” Harry pushed Draco away and rubbed the tip of his nose to warm it up. “Don’t you have any blood?”
Draco laughed as he skipped up the stairs. “Told you so.”
Harry shook his head as he headed down one flight to the kitchen. Who’s that cold ever? He plugged the kettle in for hot chocolate, and while he waited for the water to boil, he retrieved the Christmas gifts he’d hidden all over the kitchen.
He’d tucked several in the broom closet where Draco would never look, since he swore that ”Sweeping is House Elf work.” Several came from the laundry room, since Draco vowed never to touch the washing machine again after it turned his white pants pink. And Harry pulled one envelope from its hiding place behind the cleaning supplies under the sink, since Draco had said to Harry, “If you want it cleaned and you won’t let me hire a house elf, then you clean it.”
Before the water boiled, Harry grabbed the gifts and dashed up the stairs to stash them under the tree. When he heard Draco starting down the four flights, Harry returned to the kitchen to finish the hot chocolate He dropped mini-marshmallows into the mugs and added a candy cane to each one before he climbed the stairs.
“Potter! How long does it take to pour hot water over cocoa powder?” Draco sat enthroned in a Damask-covered wingback chair, a Black-family relic they’d found in one of the bedrooms. He’d changed into warm lounge trousers and a long sleeve thermal top and managed to make them look regal.
Harry plunked a Santa mug down on the table next to Draco’s elbow. Draco eyed the three marshmallows bobbing on the top and smiled.
“Just the way you like it.” Harry dropped a kiss on Draco’s head, then sat cross-legged on the floor, the colorful lights twinkling on his glasses. “C’mon down here and sit with me. Christmas isn’t a time to be sophisticated.”
Draco scoffed but folded himself elegantly onto the floor next to Harry. As the clock chimed half past 11, Draco leaned in and kissed Harry. “Happy anniversary, love.”
Harry mumbled love you against Draco’s lips before kissing him again, slow and deep. His hands caressed Draco’s back, his shoulders, his neck before Harry tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair. “You feel warmer now.”
Draco nodded as he untucked his shirt so Harry’s hands had access. “Must be from the fireplace.” He kissed Harry’s palm and then pressed his cheek against it. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said. “The presents can wait.” He dropped his hand to his lap, palming his cock which pushed against the fabric of his trousers.
Harry let out a strangled moan. “Actually, they can’t wait.” He drew away from Draco, breathless from want and arousal. Draco pulled him back for more, but Harry captured Draco’s hands in his and kissed them. “It’s important. You’ll understand soon.”
Draco bit his lips and nodded, taking more than a moment to breathe and to will his erection to subside. With a perverse pleasure, he noticed that Harry had the same issue.
They exchanged gifts, some silly, some useful, and some erotic. Draco eyed the Weasley Wizard Wheezes gift wrap warily on a small box, the size of a deck of playing cards. “Is this likely to explode or cause bodily injury in any way, Potter?”
“Given the history of their products, I see how you’d ask that,” Harry admitted, watching Draco turn the box over in his hands, inspecting it from all angles. He smiled with Draco’s discomfort. “Oh for Merlin’s sake, just open it.”
Draco pulled the signature, garish-orange ribbon and nothing exploded. With a huge smile, he added the ribbon to the others draped around his neck and then shredded the wrapping and tossed it on the pile by his side. As each second passed without mayhem, he grew bolder opening the gift.
Harry leaned back against the sofa and watched. He had a decent idea what Christmas at Malfoy Manor would look like: sophisticated decorations passed with care from generation to generation. Bespoke holiday robes, elegant with silver and gold threads. Dinner served at precisely 4pm in the formal dining room, and then they’d open gifts. Everything the finest. The most expensive. And occurring without Narcissa or Lucius lifting a finger.
And here was Draco on Christmas Eve, sitting on the floor in his pyjamas and wearing a curling ribbon necklace, his face flushed and laughing as he opened his gifts.
“I love you.” Harry beamed, his own cheeks glowing. He wanted to take Draco to bed, to curl into him and hold on tight, as if his body could tell Draco the things he didn’t have words for.
Fingers poised to open the plain white box, Draco looked up at Harry. “Oh, it is going to explode, isn’t it?” He lowered the box, but Harry’s smile reassured him. “Ok, here goes.”
“Oh. My.” Draco’s eyes grew wide as he took the plastic wrapped anal plug/cock ring combination from the box. “I had no idea the Weasleys sold sex toys.”
“Magical sex toys.” Harry corrected, and with a silent spell, the plug vibrated in Draco’s hand.
“Oh, you have to teach me that one.” Draco smiled and rubbed the vibrator over Harry’s nipple, sighing slowly when a moan escaped Harry’s lips.
“Can’t. Not yet.” Eyes closed and thinking about what Draco proposed, Harry barely managed to resist.
Draco growled as he returned the gift to its box, where the vibrating stopped. He looked under the tree and, finding nothing left, declared it time for bed. With a wink. He rose easily to his feet and gathered the bits of wrap and ribbon and tossed them into the fire. When Draco leaned over to help Harry to his feet, his eye caught something white in the branches of the tree. “Harry, what’s that?”
Harry busied himself picking up non-existent scraps of paper from the rug. “I don’t know. What?”
Draco reached between the branches, the short bristles of the spruce tree tickling his bare arm. “It’s an envelope. For me.” He didn’t recognize the handwriting that said, For Draco, My Love. “This isn’t your chicken scratch. But is it from you?”
Harry pulled a face that said ‘Who, me?’ Without an answer, Draco slit open the envelope and withdrew a parchment listing dates and times. “It’s an itinerary-” He still sounded confused, unsure what he was looking at.
Harry nodded, his smiling growing wider. Draco’s eyebrows were pinched as he read. “It’s a trip to Florida. And the Portkey activates at midnight.” He checked his watch, a gift that had been his godfather’s when he’d come of age. “Merlin’s beard, Harry. In 10 minutes. We can’t-”
Harry reached into his pocket and then handed Draco a suitcase the size of a match box. “Yeah, we can. As a matter of fact, we have dinner reservations at The Leaky Cauldron in 30 minutes.”
Draco raised an eyebrow but stored his suitcase in his pocket at Harry’s request. Harry pulled a battered, tin star ornament from the tree. “Grab a point,” he said, just before the Portkey activated, sending them to their second Christmas Eve, this one in the warmth of Florida.
They dropped into a corner of Diagon Alley decorated with Christmas trees and fairy lights. They passed through Customs and moved toward the Welcome Kiosk, which was located outside a set of turnstiles in front of The Leaky Cauldron, if Draco weren’t mistaken. “But--where--the Leaky’s in London…”
Harry took Draco’s hand. “Wait.”
A man in a black robe and a black conical cap greeted them. “Welcome gentlemen. Although the wizarding statutes are relaxed here, I am obligated to remind you that they are still in existence. Be attentive to your wand usage inside the theme park.”
He handed them two tickets and a map. “Enjoy your time here. We have extended hours tonight because it’s Christmas Eve.” He led them to the exit and left them with the park’s tag line spoken in monotone. “Remember. Yer a Wizard.”
Draco insisted on changing into proper clothing before they took another step. “It doesn’t matter how much you leer, Potter. This looks better,” he said as they left the men’s loo.
The interior designer of this Leaky Cauldron had created a light, inviting space instead of the dark, dreary original in London. When Harry gave their names to the maître d’, Draco pulled him back and growled a warning.
“No, I’ve heard about this. Watch what happens when we get called.” Harry wrapped his arm around Draco, pleased with himself for this entire surprise. As they waited for their table, Harry began his explanation. “Before you take the piss, yes, this place is called The Wizarding World of Harry Potter.
The maître d’s announcement interrupted them. “Harry Potter. Table for two.” Five groups swarmed the maître d’s podium; on a lark, they’d all used the name Harry Potter.
Draco led Harry to the podium and jerked his thumb toward Harry. With an exaggerated British accent, he said, “His name’s actually Harry. Harry Potter. Dreadfully common name. Makes being here a bit awkward.” He flashed a brilliant smile and no one connected Harry with the Harry Potter.
When they were seated, the waiter asked them if they had wands. “Some of our menus are interactive.” The waiter used air quotes to emphasize interactive. “Tap your wand to see if yours change.” He took their drink order and left them to read the menu.
Draco withdrew his wand from the back pocket of his perfectly pressed trousers (which managed to survive having been shrunk) and touched the tip of his hawthorn wand to the back of the menu. It shimmered, and “The True Story of the Wizarding World of Harry Potter” appeared.
“Wait.” With a swish of his wrist, Harry cast a wandless Muffliato so they could talk without being overheard. “What does it say?” Harry asked, as he pointed to the menu.
Draco stared across the table, his eyebrow raised. “First, allow me to say that I am completely flummoxed why they have named this entire theme park after you, Potter." Draco said.
Harry didn’t even bother to hide rolling his eyes. “Just read the damn explanation.”
Draco cleared his voice and read:
Welcome to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, the only theme park where Wizard families mix with Muggles and Mundanes.
Prior to the second Wizarding War, the Dark Lord caused devastation in the Muggle world as well as our world. However, Muggles had no idea why they had an increase in murders, freak weather, and infrastructure collapses.
After The Chosen One
[Draco almost choked on his cough as he read those words]
defeated Voldemort, word filtered into the Muggle population of a young man named Harry Potter who was responsible for ending the horror. Parents of Muggle-born wizards violated the Statute of Secrecy, explaining Potter’s role.
The Ministry of Magic sought to neutralize the global outing of wizardry. JK Rowling, an enterprising witch in the Ministry’s public relation department, wrote a seven-volume biography of The Chosen One, and a Muggle publisher jumped on them as wild fiction.
For Muggles, the “Harry Potter franchise” of books and films became a worldwide phenomenon, netting millions of dollars. Universal Studios made the logical leap to create a theme park based upon the novels. Obviously, Muggles believe the notion that “Physics” can explain how roller coasters work, keeping the roles of wizards quiet.
Unbeknownst to Muggles and Mundanes, The Wizarding World of Harry Potter is a popular vacation destination for wizarding families who can be themselves while appearing as cosplayers. We hope you enjoy your stay here. Check your park map for locations of Gringott’s ATMs and store hours.
“Merlin’s saggy tit, Harry.” Draco wiped tears from his eyes, trying to breathe through the laughter. “Or do I need to call you The Chosen One? Only quiet, unassuming Harry Potter could have an entire freaking theme park named after him.”
Harry removed the Muffliato, and the noise of the pub filled their ears. The loud conversations, the scrape of utensils on the plates. Everything seemed louder than it had when they’d walked in. “Shut the fuck up Malfoy and order.”
The two men ordered from a menu that was almost an exact replica of the one at their Leaky Cauldron. Draco looked around for Hannah Abbott, who he knew to be savvy enough to expand her business. Since she’d taken over from Old Tom, the Leaky’s food was much better, and the food here was also delicious.
As they ate, Harry guided their conversation, careful not to say anything that would violate the Statute of Secrecy. Draco had no such compunction. He pointed around the restaurant at kids wearing Gryffindor robes and round, wire glasses. Some even had lightning bolts drawn on their foreheads. “Look Potter! There you are. And there. And there.”
Harry kicked Draco’s shin, hoping he would shut the fuck up.
“Yow! Why did you kick me?” Draco kept his voice loud on purpose. A young girl at the next table looked over at them and smiled. “He kicked me,” Draco said to her, with his most winning smile. “He’s so rude.”
The girl giggled and nodded. Harry only rolled his eyes. He knew that, one day soon, his eyes were just going to stay that way.
“Why is everyone dressed like Harry Potter.” Draco’s voice weighed down Harry’s name. “Why isn’t anyone dressed like his arch-enemy, Draco Malfoy?”
“You are,” the girl said. “You got his hair and nose and eyes just right. But Draco would never wear Muggle clothing like you.”
“True,” Harry chimed in. “And the Draco from the books was so mean to Harry. They’d never eat dinner together.”
“I think you’re wrong.” She looked maybe 9 or 10, old enough to have read the books for herself. Her parents were deep in conversation, content to leave her to read. “I think they really liked each other, in the way that boys can be stupid when they don’t know how to tell someone they like them.”
Draco’s jaw fell. How had she cut through all the bullshit that took them years to see?
Harry motioned for Draco to come closer and whispered; Draco nodded as he watched the girl, whose parents were paying the waiter.
Draco motioned their waiter over and fumbled with his Muggle money to pay. They followed the other family out of the restaurant and casually tailed them.
Each time the girl waved her wand, Draco or Harry flicked theirs at the same object. Statues greeted her. Fountains streamed higher. The face on the front of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes doffed his hat. She giggled and pointed and flicked her wand more.
Occasionally she would look behind her and wave shyly to Harry and Draco. “Do you think she suspects?” Draco asked, and Harry shrugged. He was having too much fun to question the damn Statute of Secrecy.
When they reached Gringott’s, she pointed her wand at the dragon perched atop the bank. Before either Harry or Draco could mirror her intent, the dragon rose up and flew lazy circles above the dome before coming to rest again.
“What the fuck did you do?” Draco and Harry said to each other. This time, the girl saluted them with her wand, very proud of herself. She hadn’t needed them after all.
They’d wound their way back up the street to the apparition point masked by a group of carolers singing for the tourists. Harry and Draco listened for a few moments before they disapparated to their hotel room.
Draco checked the time; the clock read a few minutes to midnight. “It’s the same time it was when our Portkey left London. The magic of time zones.”
They stripped and fell into bed, too exhausted for anything more than entwining their fingers as they kissed good night.
~*~
"Merry Christmas," Harry whispered against the top of Draco’s head, his hair tickling Harry's nose. He loved the scent of Draco's shampoo, citrusy and woodsy at the same time. He inhaled and smiled at the familiarity. "What would you like to do today?"
"I think we just did it." Draco's body glistened with sweat. “And my compliments to the Weasleys for their new sex toy.” When Harry pulled the sheet up, Draco curled in closer. He put off getting out of bed to clean them off even though he knew he would regret it later. "What time is it?"
"Almost 6am. My body clock’s off, though.” Harry kissed Draco’s hair and ran his hand up and down Draco’s back.
Draco hesitated. "Your phone said it was going to be unseasonably warm today. Do you think we could go to the beach?"
Harry checked the weather app. “It's 32 today. No, wait. Americans use that damn Fahrenheit.” Harry toggled the switch on the app. “It’s 90 to them. That is the most ridiculous weather for Christmas Day.”
Draco nodded. “What do you think Father Christmas wears in Florida? Swim shorts and one of those loud Hawaiian shirts?” He grabbed a blanket from the bed to take with them while Harry took two bath towels.
“It’s early enough that I think we can apparate there.” Harry said as he held Draco’s elbow. “Who else would be crazy enough to be on the beach before sunrise on Christmas morning?”
~*~
Harry was almost right. The beach was deserted save for one fisherman, who’d dragged his webbed chair to the water’s edge. He was too busy casting his line into the surf to notice the two men appear.
Singing Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, Draco opened the blanket and laid it on the sand, holding the corners firm with his shoes and the bag. He eyed one of Harry’s shoes for the final corner before he noticed that Harry stood shivering, rubbing his arms for warmth.
“Harry. Where’s your coat?”
“F-f-forgot it at the hotel.” The breeze whipped Harry’s curls even while he tried to smooth them down.
Draco thought Harry looked beautiful like this, carefree and happy. “Sometimes you are such a Muggle. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around Harry and cast a warming spell over the two of them. “Better?”
Harry melted into Draco and hummed. “Much better.” He tilted his chin up and kissed Draco.
They stood together, warmed from the spell and from being together. They watched the sunrise cast yellow stripes over the peaceful ocean. Draco took Harry’s hand and led him down to the water. Draco rolled his trouser legs up to his knees and waded in.
“Don’t be a git,” Draco called over his shoulder to Harry, who held back. He wasn’t stupid. That water would be freezing.
Harry pointed beyond Draco, whose back was to the ocean. “What?” The small wave splashed up Draco’s leg, soaking his twill trousers’ front.
“Cute. Cute.” Draco frowned as he looked down. “Did you make that happen?”
“Nope. Just enjoying the view.” Harry stared at the trousers that were plastered to Draco’s front. He withdrew his wand from his back pocket and cast a Tergeo to siphon off most of the water; a simple Exaresco dried the trousers.
“My hero.” Draco batted his eyelashes at Harry before he broke down laughing.
“You’re an idiot.”
“But I’m your idiot.” Batting his lashes again, Draco held his hand out to Harry, who entwined his fingers in Draco’s. They walked the water’s edge, dodging any waves that lapped close to their feet. As the sun turned from pink to orangey-yellow, they returned to their blanket.
Draco whispered in Harry’s ear as he nuzzled it. “Want to lie down with me?”
Harry nodded and transfigured one of the hotel’s towels into a warm, cozy blanket more than generous enough for two men to bury themselves beneath.
“Do you like it here?” Harry's finger traced Draco’s smile. “In Florida, I mean. I know you like it under the blanket.” His hand lingered over the swell in Draco’s trousers.
Draco sighed and arched his back, encouraging Harry. He knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good to be arrested for indecency, and they really shouldn’t do more. But at that moment, Draco needed Harry to know how much he loved him, and words wouldn’t be enough.
“I love it here. Love the weather. The sun,” Draco said between kisses that grew more heated. More intense.
“We could move here.” Harry gasped as Draco’s cool fingers slid across his
stomach and dipped into the waistband of Harry’s jeans. “I can run my foundation from anywhere.” Draco’s hand reached into Harry’s boxers. “And you could apply to Wizard NPR.” The last words were strangled as Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry’s cock, now fully hard.
“It’s something to think about.” Draco kissed Harry, slipping his tongue between Harry’s lips. He sucked gently on Harry’s tongue, and Harry’s deep, needy moans spurred him on.
He broke away, but before Harry could complain, Draco slid down Harry’s body and pulled his shirt from the jeans. Draco’s breath tickled Harry’s stomach as he slipped his tongue into Harry’s deep navel, flicking. Flicking. Harry whinged as Draco’s tongue worked the hole. “You like it when I do this to your ass, don’t you?”
Harry nodded, his tongue between his lips as he worked to remain quiet, but he lost the fight with the image of Draco working his hole. He moaned, too loud, too much, too needy.
Draco dragged the zipper down as slowly as he could. He buried his face in the fly and inhaled Harry’s scent of soap and sweat and sex. Hoping his hands were warm enough, he withdrew Harry’s cock and swallowed as much of his thick shaft as he could. The scent was stronger, even more arousing without the fabric in the way.
He pulled off, only to trace the vein with the tip of his nose and then to tongue the slit, lapping at the drops.
Harry fell apart beneath him. His breathing, the roll of his hips, his words all shredded, and Draco loved him this way.
Harry grabbed Draco’s hair and held on his he fucked into Draco’s mouth, and as he came, he chanted a song of Draco, I love you.
Draco released Harry and collapsed on his chest, feeling their hearts racing, together for now and for always. When he could move, Draco shifted his hips back to the bottom blanket. He unzipped and shoved his hand into his silk boxers; with a few uncoordinated pulls, Draco felt the tightening in his belly and balls before the lightning of his orgasm overtook him.
Harry rolled toward Draco and rested his head against Draco’s chest. They stayed that way until the air became too thick from their sex and sweat and breath. Draco folded a corner back and peaked out before he yanked it back over them.
“People! There are people next to us.” Draco’s eyes were wide, and he didn’t know whether to let loose the laugh that bubbled inside.
Harry sat up enough to see their neighbors, also two men obviously together. “They’re too interested in each other to pay any attention to us.” Harry kissed Draco and then winked. “Unless we gave them some ideas.”
Draco cleaned his hand with a spell and then removed the blanket. They stood, hoping their embarrassment didn’t show on their faces. The other men were too engrossed in each other to pay them any attention.
Harry led Draco back to the water, he used a shell fragment to write Ho Ho Ho in the wet sand. On a lark, he drew a heart and wrote HP + DM inside of it. He kissed Draco again and said, “Forever.”
Draco nodded and rested his forehead against Harry’s. “Forever.”
When they couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer, Draco sighed and said, “We should go back to the hotel to pack. I have to work tomorrow.” The brightness of the sun stung his eyes, or possibly, it was from ending this day. “What you asked before-I don’t know if I could live here, but I’d love to come back on vacation.”
“Anytime, Draco. Any time you want to come back. Or move. You know I’ll go with you anywhere.”