Chapter Text
Three weeks later
"All right, Harry?" Draco asked as he stepped up next to Harry, the sharp scent of his familiar cologne filling Harry's nostrils. It was loud in their shared flat, so Draco had to lean in close. His lips brushed against Harry's ear, making him shiver.
"Yeah, 'course I am," Harry replied truthfully, turning to give Draco a sunny grin.
A little too sunny, apparently. "Drunk already?" Draco asked with a fond laugh.
Harry snorted. "Not hardly. This is only my second bottle," he replied, holding up his still half-full beer. "Just happy."
Draco huffed, clearly a bit flustered, but Harry caught the edge of his pleased smile. Harry knew a part of Draco still hadn't quite accepted that Harry was really here to stay, that some piece of him was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Harry understood where he was coming from, and Harry didn't mind waiting for Draco to fully trust that this was truly happening. If Harry had to make it extra clear for a little while longer that he was happy to be here, happy to be with Draco, then that was what he'd do.
"Well, I suppose it's just everybody else then who's determine to drink me out of house and home," Draco said with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm actually about to pop out to the store and pick up a few more bottles of alcohol before our lovely guests start a riot."
Across the living room, Matt chose that moment to curse loudly in Spanish, before shouting, "Who drank the last of the tequila?"
"Don't worry," Draco called out before Matt had a chance to work himself into a lather. "I'm going out now to get some more."
"Good, then you can get the good stuff this time, none of that bottom-shelf swill you were trying to poison us with earlier."
"With how you've all been drinking tonight, if I get the good stuff I'll be broke by the end of the night."
Matt laughed. "You can't fool me, Dray. I saw that Manor you grew up in. You can afford it."
Draco rolled his eyes, and Harry laughed. "Need a hand?"
"Nah, I've got it. Besides one of us needs to stay here to supervise. I don't trust this lot in our new flat. I'd like to wait at least a couple of months before I inevitably lose my deposit." A small flutter went through Harry's belly at Draco referring to it as 'our new flat' instead of just his. It was technically both of theirs now—they'd officially added Harry to the lease earlier that morning—but he liked how quickly Draco had made space for him in his life.
"Shall I remind you who it was that caused so much damage to Josh's last apartment that he was asked to immediately vacate the premises?" Madison cut in with a grin, slinging her arm around Draco's shoulders.
Draco flushed, and Harry's heart thumped audibly at the sight. Merlin, a simple blush shouldn't affect him so strongly. "I paid off those damages, and I let Josh sleep in my room while I had to kip on my own sofa for three months after that," Draco protested. "I think I've paid my penance."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Madison said with a dismissive wave of her hand, still smiling. "Don't you have alcohol to buy? Better hurry up, my buzz is starting to wear off."
"Then maybe you should take yourself to a pub and buy your own damn drinks," Draco said primly, the amusement in his eyes belying his reprimand. He turned to Harry, brushing a kiss across his cheek as he passed. "I'll be back in ten," he said quietly, before continuing in a louder voice as he walked towards the door, "Try not to burn down the building before I get back."
There were a number of rude gestures and teasing comments yelled at Draco's retreating form, and Harry laughed along with the others as he collapsed back into one of the comfortable sofa chairs Draco had bought, soaking in the atmosphere. Against all logic—and without the use of wizarding space, which was strictly controlled in America—there were at least twenty people crammed into their tiny flat that evening. The party had been more or less a surprise, with Draco's friends insisting that he throw a proper housewarming and 'Welcome to America, Harry' bash, before work officially started on Monday. Draco had resisted, but his mates had soundly ignored his protests, declaring that they'd be there at eight, and he'd better have snacks and drinks or he'd be sorry. The result was loud and chaotic, and though it was a little overwhelming, Harry couldn't deny that he was enjoying himself.
Harry had only been in Seattle for a couple of days now, arriving late Wednesday night with a much larger trunk of belongings and a plan to stay for the indefinite future. Draco had met him at the Portkey station and immediately whisked him off to the flat he'd officially moved into while Harry was away. Their flat. Harry had been exhausted after a long day of international travel, but that hadn't stopped them from immediately going at it, tearing into one another with all the passion they'd had to suppress during their three weeks apart. The next several days had passed in a similar fashion, the two of them fucking on every available surface. They hadn't left the flat once—food delivery was amazing—and this party was the first proper socialising Harry had done with anybody other than Draco, and one very surly Portkey official, since he'd left Britain. As brilliant and necessary as it had been to reacquaint himself with Draco's body after three weeks apart, it was nice to be around other people again. Growing up with the rowdy Gryffindor common room and the boisterous Weasleys had led Harry to associate loud social gatherings with friendship and family, and it was the perfect way to start off this new chapter of his life.
He drained the last of his beer as he looked around the room, taking in their various guests. The vast majority of the occupants were Harry's soon-to-be-colleagues; all of the Americans he'd got to know on the exchange were there, of course, plus a number of the trainees—now Junior Aurors—that had opted to stay in Seattle instead of leaving on the exchange. Draco had introduced him to everyone already, including a few of his other friends that had made it, people Draco had met during his year at Baesany, or out at pubs, or through mutual friends. The names and faces had blurred together in Harry's mind, but he knew he'd get to know them all, eventually. He had plenty of time here, after all.
The group of people around the kitchen bar counter gave a cheer, and Harry heard Josh command somebody to take a drink as the people around them laughed. Another group had begun to fiddle with the wireless, and soon some pop song Harry didn't recognise began to pump through the flat. It was noisy and disorganised, and Harry really hoped the extra-strength Silencing Charms he'd helped Draco cast several hours ago would hold. If not, Harry thought the bottle of wine and apologetic note Draco had preemptively left outside their neighbors' doors earlier that day would help to sooth any ruffled feathers. Honestly, Harry found the cheerful, jubilant energy surrounding him to be quite addictive himself. He couldn't help but be reminded of the last party he'd attended, the one the Weasleys had insisted on throwing for him when they'd realised he was leaving Britain, possibly for good.
If Harry had been nervous about telling his friends he was visiting Seattle for the several weeks after their training had concluded, it was nothing on how anxious he'd felt once he'd decided to move there for the foreseeable future. He'd told Ron and Hermione first, of course, the very same day he'd arrived back in London. They'd had him over for dinner and drinks, ostensibly to welcome him back home, though mainly to officially announce their engagement. Harry had been thrilled, and after heartily congratulating them both, and insisting on a play-by-play recounting of Ron's epic proposal, he'd finally moved on to his own news, admitting to them that he was going back to the States.
Neither of them had been as surprised as Harry was expecting—apparently Hermione had heard rumblings about the secret project Harry was working on with Robards and Kingsley, and had already started putting the pieces together, and Ron said he'd placed fifty/fifty odds on this outcome when Harry had first announced he'd be going to Seattle with Draco for a visit. The three of them had spent the entire night, and most of the morning, talking things over. Both Ron and Hermione clearly wanted to make sure that Harry had truly considered every angle, that he was positive moving abroad was the best choice for him. Harry understood their reluctance, and he appreciated that they did their best to reserve their judgement and hear him out, despite the fact that they weren't Draco's biggest fans. Over the past year, there had been a lot that Harry had held back from them, things he'd hadn't even admitted to himself, really, but that night he'd laid it all out on the line. He explained his struggles, his complacency, how staid and routine his life had become without him even realising it. It had taken Draco bursting into his life again to wake Harry up, and as extreme as the changes he was making might seem, Harry knew he couldn't let this opportunity to be happy, to take hold of his life, pass him by.
Like Draco, Hermione actually seemed most worried that Harry was using an exciting new relationship and a big move to a new country in order to run away from his problems and bury his head in the sand. Harry understood her concern, just like he'd understood Draco's, but Harry knew that wasn't what this was about. Maybe the timing wasn't perfect, but he wasn't going to pass up on being with the person he was pretty sure he loved just because he wasn't as mentally stable as he could be. She seemed mollified when he told her about his plan to find a Mind Healer over in Seattle, finally admitting what she'd been trying to get him to see for years—that maybe he wasn't quite as well-adjusted as he'd claimed to be. In the end, both Ron and Hermione had come around, and though Harry didn't think either of them were thrilled with his decision—both because they'd miss him, and because they didn't think his relationship with Draco was worth uprooting his life for—they were ultimately supportive. He was grateful that they trusted him enough to make his own choices, even if he could tell they weren't entirely convinced he was making the right one. Harry hoped, with time, they could get to a place where they saw how good Draco was for Harry, that they'd be able to fully accept Draco as a critical part of Harry's life. If Harry had any say in the matter, Draco would be around for a good, long while.
Harry had left them with promises to write every week, and that they'd be seeing one another again before they knew it. Harry was aware that prying Ron and Hermione away from their families in Britain during the winter holidays would likely be an impossibility, but he was hoping to convince them to come out and visit Seattle in November. Apparently it wasn't the city's most attractive time of year, but he remembered Josh going on about the American Thanksgiving holiday last year in Britain, and how the group of them usually hosted a 'Friendsgiving' to celebrate the holiday together, as all of their families were scattered across the States. That seemed like as good a time as any to have his two best mates in the whole world come and visit. There was nothing like food-centric holiday to win Ron over, and it might be a bit less awkward with all of Draco's friends around as a buffer.
Telling Ginny had been a little more complicated, but despite the discomfort, Harry had known he'd owed her some kind of explanation in person. His news had clearly shocked her, and she'd been biting at first, as was her instinct whenever she was caught off guard, but she'd seemed more or less okay by the time they'd finished talking. It was obvious that she didn't understand his choice in partner, that she felt hurt, and maybe even a little betrayed, that Harry had been able to look past all that Draco had done. Harry couldn't blame her for that. Ginny had more reason that most to hate the Malfoys, and easy forgiveness wasn't in her nature. He wouldn't ask that of her, and she didn't offer it, but she did wish him luck and happiness, in the end, and Harry knew that she truly meant it. When she asked Harry if him being bent had been why things hadn't worked out between them, a part of Harry wished he could have said yes. It would have been easier, neater, to be able to blame it on something so completely out of their control. But her being a woman had never been the issue, and he wouldn't lie to her, not about something like that. Her smile had been sad and a bit wistful as she'd hugged him goodbye, and the scent of her jasmine shampoo had lingered in the air long after she'd left.
Another cheer, this one even louder than the last, pulled Harry from his thoughts. He grinned when he saw that Draco had returned, his arms heavy with liquor bottles that their friends quickly relieved him of. Matt must have said something funny as he grabbed the bottle of silver tequila, because Draco threw back his head and laughed, loud and full bodied, exposing the long line of his throat. The sight of it did funny things to Harry's insides, love and lust and yearning desire all churning merrily in his gut. It kept hitting him, in these strange little moments, that he was really doing this. He and Draco were making a proper go of it, the two of them embarking on a whole new adventure together. Every moment was lush with possibility and potential, and Harry didn't intend on letting a single opportunity pass him by. He'd spent far too long sitting listlessly on the sidelines, watching life drift by in an easy, expected current. Harry wasn't going to be a passive participant in his life, not anymore.
Harry's gaze caught Draco's as his laugh faded out, and Draco's lips quirked up in a private smile. Harry loved that he understood the twitch of Draco's right eyebrow as Everything all right?, and Harry nodded back at him with a grin, letting his happiness shine through. Draco's gaze softened, before his eyes took on a wicked gleam, flicking down Harry's body with predatory intent. Harry swallowed and mouthed back, "Later," watching as Draco's lips spread into a filthy grin, chock full of dirty promise, before somebody pulled his attention elsewhere, and Harry was released.
"Having fun, Harry?" Sarah asked him, sitting down on the sofa next to his chair. Her eyes were a bit glassy and her grin was wide and toothy—she'd clearly been an enthusiastic participant in the draining of Draco's alcohol supply.
"I'm brilliant. I'm glad you all could make it."
"You mean you're glad we all forced you to throw this party in the first place," she teased.
Harry laughed. "Yes, exactly. It's nice to see everybody again."
"Well, we're all going to be working together come Monday. You'll be sick of us before long."
Harry smiled. "Nah, I don't think so. If I've got to be stuck with people, I reckon I could do much worse than you lot."
"Oh, Harry," she sighed, ducking her face as if to hide how touched she was by his comment. "I'm so glad you decided to stay," she continued after a moment. "We all are. And not just because Draco would have been a bloody inconsolable nightmare if you hadn't."
"That bad, huh?" Harry asked lightly. Privately, Harry thought he would have been just as bad, had things come to that.
"Worse," Sarah said with a grin. "But you're good for him." She looked at Harry intently, before nodding her head a little too forcefully. "And I think he's good for you, too."
Harry snuck another glance at Draco who was gesturing emphatically with Madison while several others watched on in amusement. Just looking at Draco made Harry feel lighter, somehow. Every time he did, it reaffirmed all over again that Harry had made the right choice in coming here. It was a risk, no doubt about it, but Harry could feel it deep in his bones: this was where he was meant to be. Here, in Seattle, in this cramped apartment he now shared with Draco, surrounded by new friends and happiness and laughter. He knew he still had shit to work through, he still had to fully process his childhood and the war, the people he'd lost and the things he'd seen...the things he'd done. But for the first time in ages, the thought of dealing with it all didn't seem so overwhelming that the only recourse was to ignore it completely. Draco had shown him the benefits of walking a difficult path, and Harry found himself almost eager to follow in his footsteps, to take control of himself and his destiny. Draco wasn't Harry's salvation—Harry couldn't look to anybody but himself for that—but he was an inspiration, and no matter what happened, Harry knew this was one chance he'd forever be glad he took.
"Yeah," Harry said softly. "He really is."
The End!