Chapter Text
"You'll stay with me, right? When all of this is over and you've done your eighteen months. Promise me you'll stay?"
"Of course I'll stay with you, Harry. How could I leave you?"
***
It was quiet. Too quiet. That's what Harry noticed when the memories he was dreaming of melted away and he floated from the depths of sleep back into reality. His hearing had kicked in before his sight and he was picking up on the sounds of birds calling outside, the gush of air, the silence of an empty house.
When his mind had realised that these weren't the noises of dreams and were in fact, the dawn of a new day, he peeled his eyes open, staring out in a daze at the expanse of bedding beside him.
The entire left side was still made, tucked into the corners with not a single crease in the pillow. He stretched out his arm and caressed the bedding, soft to touch but so empty still. Pressing his cheek closer to the sheets, he searched for the scent, that familiar scent that spread through his lungs, soothing his soul.
As he rolled over, the familiarity of the room greeted him as it did every morning. Daylight beaming through the blinds at the large bay window, the chest of drawers to his left, littered with washing that was yet to be put away, bottles of half-used aftershave and books he'd been meaning to start but never got around to. He looked up at the ceiling and counted the five, six, seven dark wooden beams that stretched from the far wall to the window, including the silly little misshapen one that was tucked in by the alcove.
'Merlin, I miss him.'
He threw on a pair of socks that had been tossed over the rug and reached for his favourite woolly jumper - the dark green Slytherin jumper. It had seen better days, fraying at the wrists and looser around the hem with little elasticity left due to all the times he would pull it over his knees and curl up inside it. Draco's scent lingered between the fibres, and when Harry closed his eyes, inhaling at the neckline, he smiled inwardly and headed downstairs.
The kitchen was always cosy first thing in the morning thanks to the warming spells he kept on it. As he looked out of the window, he was greeted with the familiar view that he'd come to love so well. Crystal blue waves rolling in from a stretch of water as far as the eye could see. They would froth gently at the pebbly shore, nudging away at the land and slowly drawing back, rippling with ease as the glint of sunlight shimmered off the waves in the distance, like sparkling jewels upon the surface of the water.
When he looked back down, the kettle had been filled with water and placed onto boil, even though he had no recollection of doing so, the mornings had become so routine now even when he was still half asleep.
He was so transfixed on the view ahead that he barely noticed when the sound of the front door clicked shut, and footsteps grew louder from behind him.
Two hands slipped around his waist from behind, a warm body pressed into the curve of his back and a pair of lips kissed him softly at the nape of his neck. His spine arched a little at the touch, his skin prickled, melting into the warmth embracing him and he smiled inwardly, closing his eyes before dropping his head back against the pair of lips he craved so much.
"Making up for leaving me by myself this morning, are we?" Harry breathed, tilting his head to the side slightly, only to be met with another smiling kiss on the side of his jaw. His heart swelled.
"It's Sunday, darling, it's our tradition."
Harry turned around, his eyes blooming at the sight of his love. Draco pulled away from the embrace, holding up a small paper bag with 'Truffles Bakery' printed on the side.
"Two fresh-out-the-oven almond croissants, as per usual, and there's a little treat in there for you later." Draco said passing the bag over to Harry, who peered inside, his eyes lighting up at the sight of an apple danish.
Harry placed the bag on the counter behind him and stepped in closer to Draco, who was still wrapped up in his coat, hat and Gryffindor scarf. Harry pulled the hat from his head, admiring the mess of platinum hair that always gave Draco that gorgeous, effortless sex appeal. Draco unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and pulled off his coat.
"You're freezing," Harry said, pressing his body against Draco's, "The tip of your little nose is like ice."
"Well, it's Winter, what do you expect? And we're living on the coast now, you can't step outside anymore without being beaten about by the wind." Draco chuckled, closing his eyes as Harry kissed the tip of his nose, then brought their foreheads together.
"Still stretching out my jumper, I see?"
"Stretching out?" Harry gasped, his lips curling to a smile, "This is all muscle under here, I'll have you know."
"Is it now? Not the treacle tarts you sneak in after I leave for work?"
"Cheeky bastard." Harry smirked, placing a soft kiss on Draco's lips.
"Are you working tonight?"
"Yeah, three o'clock, but it's a Sunday so it won't be busy, just the regulars. Why don't you come down and sit at the bar, bring Padfoot too."
"Alright," Draco stretched his back and brought the mug of tea to his chest, "I'll take him for a walk mid-afternoon and then stop by."
At that moment, the pitter-patter of paws joined them in the kitchen, a shaggy black pup wandered in lazily in search of food and stopped at Harry's heels. Harry bent down, obliging to the command for head scratches and looked back up at Draco from below, "I'll have a mulled cider waiting for you then."
It wasn't just being indoors that was warming Draco through, it was Harry snuggled in his Slytherin jumper, making tea in the kitchen of their cottage. It was their tradition of fresh croissants on a Sunday morning. It was Padfoot circling their legs needing endless attention. It was their cosy home, the privacy he'd yearned for, for years, the simplicity of their new life.
When things had reached breaking point, they ran. Life in London had been cruel to Draco, and Harry couldn't escape the pain of the war whilst everyone glorified him as a hero. They'd left the wizarding world behind, and moved to a quaint muggle village in the south of Cornwall.
The change was difficult at first, but over time they settled into their new life. Harry got a job at the local pub, and was initially nervous that he would slip back into bad drinking habits, but the warmth and kindness of the regulars, with their big hearts and hilarious stories helped him stay above the water.
Draco had found a part-time job at a bookstore, working alongside the owner, Albert, who was more like a friend to him than a boss. He spent his days organising books, reviewing them, setting up displays and chatting with customers. After most shifts, he would wander down the road to The Red Lion pub with Padfoot, where Harry would usually be working, to have a small drink, cinnamon cider, and occasionally join in a game of darts or pool with the locals. Harry loved the sweet taste on Draco's lips whenever they kissed on their walk back home under the moonlight.
They'd been welcomed into the village with open arms, and finally felt like they had a home. Nobody knew they were wizards, and they intended to keep it that way, aside from the occasional use of magic within their home, they were comfortable with their new way of life.
Home, for them, was a small thatched cottage on the coast, with both a front and back garden, sage green shutters on the windows and stepping stones that lead up to the rickety wooden gate. Inside was cosy, exposed brick walls and huge bay windows with bookshelves bowing under the weight of all of Draco's novels and, as usual, Harry's clothing tossed all over the place.
The only attachment they kept to wizarding life, was the fireplace that they'd registered on the Floo Network and the only people that knew about their location was the Weasley's, who would visit every month or so. They were family, there was no way Harry and Draco were letting them go.
They had become so domesticated it was sickening, and they wouldn't have it any other way.
Back in the kitchen, Draco sat himself down at the large oak table and dug out the warm croissants from the bag, placing one on a plate for Harry and one for himself. He brought the pastry to his lips, smelling the sweet scent and was about to bite down when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A pair of boxers tossed over the chair back, left there from the night before.
"Harry, what have I told you about leaving your underwear all over the place?" Draco said, tossing the boxers at Harry's head.
"It's not my fault you keep initiating sex in every room of the house!"
"Well what am I supposed to do when I walk into the kitchen and you're cooking shirtless at the stove all steamy in the evening glow? You don't exactly make it subtle!"
"Draco, the other day I was out in the garden in an oversized fleece with wellies on and dirt on my cheek and you still dragged me indoors for a quickie."
"You're gorgeous all the time, I can't help it," he shrugged, his eyes already glowing with admiration, "Last night was incredible though," Draco smirked
"It was, though the table isn't exactly the comfiest thing we've done it on," he winced slightly, rubbing the small of his back. "I say from now on we stick to padded surfaces only."
"Well, we ought to get it out of our system now before Hermione and Ron visit next week, I'm sure Ron would be traumatised walking into the kitchen and seeing your balls on the table for breakfast."
"Charming!" Harry said, scrunching up his face as Draco burst out laughing. "I suppose we need to hide your erotic magazines as well."
"Don't act you like don't read them too, I know you sneak a look at them when I'm not around."
Harry sniggered into his tea and shook his head, "Anyway, we received a package this morning by owl, it arrived while you were out." He went to fetch it, and returned to the room carrying a small brown parcel, tied up with string. Draco looked at it in anticipation, carefully pulling at the string and folding back the paper. Inside the wrapping, was a small white organiser, the pages inside were classic parchment, held together with silver rings on the sides. It looked like the type of notebooks muggles used, he'd seen plenty of them at the library he used to work in.
As he flipped it over, shiny silver words were engraved on the front cover - wedding planner.
"It's an engagement present from Mr and Mrs Weasley, they left a little note inside the cover." Harry explained. Draco slipped the small piece of parchment from inside and looked down at the elegant writing.
Harry and Draco,
Congratulations! We are all absolutely thrilled to hear the wonderful news. Arthur found this lovely planner in a muggle stationary shop in London, we simply had to get it for you! We hope you find it useful.
Looking forward to having you both over at Christmas, and as always, we hope your new life is treating you kindly.
All our love,
Molly and Arthur
The gesture alone was enough to bring a lump to Draco's throat. When Harry had finally come out about their relationship, the Weasley's welcomed Draco in with open arms. George and Percy were more apprehensive at first, and Ginny was disappointed that she no longer had a chance to rekindle things with Harry, but after many gatherings, game nights and invitations to Sunday dinner, they'd accepted Draco as part of the family, and Draco was forever grateful.
"You alright? Harry asked, he could see when Draco was choked up but trying to hide it.
"Fine," Draco breathed. Harry saw right through the little lie. "I never thought I would get this lucky. I have no family or friends, I haven't had any since the war, but they make me feel loved, like I have a mother and father again." He smiled down into his tea and cleared his throat, forcing back the wave of emotion, "Anyway, I suppose you'll want me to be in charge of this?" he said, tapping the planner beside him.
"What makes you think that?"
"Well, for one, we all know I'm far more organised than you are, plus my handwriting is neater, and quite frankly, planning a wedding doesn't seem like something you would be interested in."
Harry scoffed, shaking his head, "There might be some truth to the first half of that statement which I'll let slide for now but of course I'm interested in planning our wedding."
"Yeah? What are your thoughts on the cake then?"
"Chocolate and orange marble cake with white frosting, at least two levels."
"Tiers?"
"Shut up you know what I meant." Harry smirked
"Flowers?"
Harry faltered, his brow furrowing in thought and Draco was sure that he'd stumped him, that floral arrangements were something that had never crossed Harry's mind. "Lilies," Harry said, still lost in thought, "White lilies."
Draco softened, smiling pitifully knowing Harry was thinking about his mum, how he would want to remember her, how he wished she would be there for his special day.
"Lilies sound wonderful, my love." Draco smiled, making it the first thing he wrote down in the planner. "I'm sorry for thinking you wouldn't care about these things, you're right."
"There was a time when I thought I would never get married, not after all the heartbreak and loss I witnessed, commitment seemed terrifying," he pressed his lips, recalling the pain, "You changed that."
"You'll never lose me," Draco said, reaching his hand out across the table, and feeling Harry connect with him, stroking his fingers and squeezing a little harder in the moment of vulnerability.
The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence. Harry sipped his tea whilst flicking through the sports section of a muggle newspaper. He had no idea how the rules of cricket and tennis worked, but had grown to find them rather enjoyable, they'd both been to a few local matches during their time at the village.
Draco flicked through the pages of the planner, reading the various headers - venue, outfits, flowers, catering, music, all the usual additions to the big day. He knew that they wouldn't require half of the arrangements that the planner suggested as they'd already decided to take up on the Weasley's offer of having a small, intimate wedding at the Burrow.
The proposal was a memory that Draco would never forget.
Harry had taken him back to the cliffside at Kynance Cove where they'd had their first date, eating chips from the paper bag watching the tide roll in. Harry guided Draco onto the beach below, under the condition that Draco kept his eyes closed at all times.
"Close them!"
"They are!" Draco moaned, stumbling blindly over the sands beneath his feet, he could hear Harry's voice close by in front of him.
"Really tight! No peeping!"
Draco simply chuckled to himself, "Can I open my eyes yet?"
"Wait," Harry called, flicking his wand which ignited a hundred candles placed in the sand below. Red roses were scattered beside them and etched into the sand were the words 'Will you marry me?'. Harry took one last controlled breath and composed himself, his heart hammering in his chest. "Okay... open."
And Draco's face dropped instantly, his eyes lit up and welled with tears which fell down his cheeks as his heart bloomed. The rest of the evening was a blur, Draco pouncing on Harry in a kiss so fierce it knocked them both off of their feet, sand went everywhere, the tide crashed into them, they'd become a mess of salty sea and wet kisses. They made love on the beach that night and Draco was literally seeing stars when Harry touched him in all the right places, blissfully, longingly, aching for nothing but each other.
***
"They're still talking about you at the Ministry, mate." Ron said, dishing himself up a second bowl of beef stew.
Harry exchanged a look with Draco across their kitchen table, his hand slipping onto Draco's knee. Hermione clocked onto their interaction. "Nothing bad though, Harry," she explained, trying to ease their worried expressions, "It's merely an interest into where you vanished off to, that's all. Nobody is hunting for you."
"Bloody hope not," Harry groaned, stabbing another forkful of beef, "Have the papers died down now?"
"Mostly," Ron said, "There's still the occasional article questioning your disappearance but not much other than that. The Daily Prophet believes Draco's still in Azkaban, Kingsley's obviously keeping a tight wrap on that one."
Draco shifted in his seat, looking down at his dinner, Harry squeezed his leg a little harder. Nobody wanted to mention it, but Harry and Draco both figured out that if The Daily Prophet was reporting that Draco was locked up again, then they'd also be explaining why, meaning there was a sure chance that the wizarding world was now aware of Draco's past line of work.
Shame sat uncomfortably in the pit of Draco's chest from the reminder of his mistakes but his company at the table where he sat was a reminder of how far he'd come.
"There's nothing to worry about, Draco," Hermione reassured, smiling warmly across at him, "No one will ever find you here, you're both safe and by the looks of it, happier than ever."
Harry turned to look at Draco, who was blushing profusely. He placed a soft kiss on the side of his cheek which embarrassed Draco even more in front of company but Harry didn't care. Ron eyerolled playfully, receiving a nudge on the arm from Hermione, who couldn't help the admiration she felt seeing her best friend in love.
"What?" Ron chuckled, "They're being all mushy and it's putting me off my food."
"Like I didn't have to put up with years of you two giving each other doughy eyes." Harry teased.
"Anyway," Hermione continued, "Enough talk from the past, we have a wedding to plan."
"We?" Harry raised his brow
"Of course! Draco and I are already discussing what suits you boys are all going to wear," she beamed, whilst Draco shot a totally unaware look at Harry, who snorted into his dinner. "We're here for the whole week, Harry, I've brought all my wedding planning brochures and books for us to look through, I've also brought along some samples of table linen for you both to decide on."
Ron couldn't control his laughter and Harry couldn't hide his distress at what Hermione had planned. Draco pressed his lips to stifle the grin but Ron shot him a look which set him off, laughing into his dinner. Hermione scoffed and pushed away from the table, flicking both Harry and Draco on the back of their heads as she went to dish up dessert.
Harry's three favourite people were by his side, sharing jokes and enjoying each other's company. There was once a time when he thought this would be impossible, yet now he couldn't imagine life without it.
***
They’d eaten dinner together at the table beside the flickering candles, finished the last bottle of red and moved to the living room, where they danced, slowly, to the records playing on Harry’s old turntable. Draco placed his head in the crook of Harry’s shoulder, feeling the stroke of fingers circling his back as they swayed gently to the music.
Draco felt warmth through every part of his soul. He was settled in a way he’d never been before in his life, a feeling that he once considered himself so unworthy of.
“Are you happy, my love?” Harry whispered, closing his eyes. He felt the gentle nod of Draco in response and smiled to himself.
In each other's embrace, they swayed, never needing to fill the silence. It was perfect as it was.
When the record came to its end, the crackle of thunder and rain filled the silence from outside.
“Looks like the storm’s here for the night,” Harry said, drawing back from their embrace and peering out at the rain drumming against the window.
“I don’t mind it,” Draco smiled, kissing Harry tenderly on the lips, “It makes it even cosier in here.” He closed his eyes, their noses touching sweetly before another kiss was planted on their lips and their hands met. Despite the room being dim with the glow of only the fire, Draco lost himself momentarily in the depths of Harry's emerald eyes, filled with longing and love. Harry, in return, admired Draco in the firelight, his striking silver eyes glassy with tears from the overwhelming weight of emotion from being in love and being loved in return.
Draco pulled away and drifted back to the sofa, where he sat down and watched sleepily as Harry slid the vinyl back into its case, before taking out another one and placing it on the turntable.
First came the familiar crackle before it scratched into life, the sound of soft jazz floating idly through the room. The only light around them was the flickering of the logs burning in the fireplace, casting a deep orange glow over the room, adding to the warmth.
They listened to three more records after that, and made their way through half a box of salted caramel chocolates and another bottle of wine before Draco curled himself up on the sofa and allowed his eyes to rest.
Harry returned from the kitchen not long after and stopped in his tracks at the sight of Draco falling asleep on the sofa under a woollen blanket. It swamped him completely, hanging idly off the sides and dragging on the floor but Harry could tell from his rosy cheeks that Draco must have been warm underneath.
"Harry?" Draco spoke softly, his voice raspy through the sleep.
"Hey you," Harry whispered, beaming from ear to ear as he tip-toed across the room so as to not disturb the peace. He sat himself down at Draco's feet, feeling his heart bloom in admiration of his love.
Draco's eyes flitted a little, but closed softly again, his head was tilted upward against the plush cushion. Harry took a second to admire the subtle lovebites that were visible on his jawline from a rather heated encounter they'd had earlier in the day.
He could tell Draco was drifting on the edge of sleep from the gentle breaths that were escaping his parted lips. "Join me?" Draco muttered, his eyes still closed without a trace of movement.
"Of course, darling," Harry soothed, climbing into the gap behind Draco on the sofa where he nestled in and pulled the blanket back over to cover them both. He tucked it in behind his back and settled down on the large cushions, Draco laying peacefully in front of him, cuddling the blanket to his chest.
The instant scent of Draco filled Harry with a sense of comfort he'd always longed for when he wasn't with him. He wrapped himself around Draco's body and slowly guided the sleeping boy into his arms, where Draco snuggled into Harry's embrace and settled. Harry placed a kiss on Draco's forehead and smiled down at him, awestruck.
"Mmm Harry..." Draco hummed at barely a whisper, "I'm so happy," he sounded drunk on tiredness, "I love you." his voice trailed off as he ran his hands through the curls of brunette, still impeccably soft, before gracing his fingers across Harry's chin, running the pad of his thumb over his bottom lip and slowly drifting off.
"I love you more." Harry whispered, caressing Draco's cheek where he was certain he saw a smile ghost his face. "I couldn't do life with anyone else."
Rain pattered softly against the windows whilst the fire burnt lazily. Another crack of thunder rumbled above and as Draco stirred, Harry pulled him a little closer and felt the familiar nudge of Draco's fingers against his hand. He laced his fingers in between the gaps of Draco's hand and squeezed him gently, like he always did, in the way that told Draco he was there and always would be, never letting go.
They were home, and they were safe.
Nothing would ever change that.
*****