Harry stood in the entryway of the kitchen and looked at Draco's profile. Don't stare. He chided himself.

He cleared his throat, vying for a sense of self-control, or maybe even authority. This was his house after all.

Draco didn’t even bother to look up from the letter he was reading, “Potter,” he said, “is this actually a pile of fan mail you have here?” He set the letter down and pulled forward another one.

Harry rolled his eyes, pulled out a chair across from him, and sat down. “No, it’s just the post” he said, annoyed with how defensive it sounded.

Draco scoffed and lifted up the original letter he'd been reading to show it to Harry, “This one is spelled to change color as you read it Potter. All of the innuendos turn blue and the declaration of love at the bottom turns pink.”

Harry glared at the parchment for proving the other man right, “Yes well it’s my mail and I doubt that’s the reason you showed up at my door,” he looked back at Draco. “Or were you going to offer to do a dramatic reading for me? Parkinson mentioned that you did one for her with the Prophet article about me last week.” He said, remembering Pansy’s words. Draco blushed faintly before he dropped the letter and pushed the papers aside as though it were a pile of trash.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Draco said cooly.

“You don’t remember the Prophet article or you don’t know why you showed up at my house?” Harry asked, fighting to keep exasperation from his voice.

A brief look of annoyance passed over Draco’s features as he looked at Harry, nearly breaking into a sneer. Then, far more concerningly, his eyes flashed with mischief and he gave Harry a bitter smile.

“Actually I did have a purpose for coming to see you this evening,” Draco said. Then added, in false sweetness, “I assume you have friends to share confessions with, but if you would rather discuss your homoerotic awakening with me, I can make some time.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat up and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to hide the evidence of the blush, “What is it you wanted Malfoy?”

Draco let him squirm for a moment and then said, “Do you mind if I have that tea that Granger offered me?”

Kreacher appeared with a crack, startling Harry enough to make him jump in his seat which screeched on the tile. Harry had repeatedly asked him to stop fucking doing that!

“Master Malfoy, descendant from the noble house of Black!” Kreacher exclaimed, bowing low before Draco, “It would be an honor for Kreacher to serve you. How would you like your tea prepared?”

Draco cast a casual look to the elf and said, “Straight tea Kreacher, with a shot of Black Firewhiskey. Thank you.” Then he looked at Harry, “Did you want one as well Potter?” he asked, as though this conversation were completely normal.

Harry nodded dumbly at the question, to conflicted about the interaction to respond properly, and decided that drinking a bit of Firewhiskey was probably his best course of action at this moment.

Kreacher disappeared and reappeared in record time with the drinks. Harry hadn’t realized that there was a special line of alcohol in the house, and, upon his first taste of the whiskey, decided that the Blacks were mostly horrible people who had very fine taste in liquor. This Firewhiskey was nothing like the rough burn he got from the pubs, it was smooth and warmed his body pleasantly.

Draco wrapped his hands around the mug as though he was absorbing heat from it, "Well go on then Potter, let's hear it. Who was your first kiss?"

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, incredulous. He was very grateful he'd already swallowed his drink before hearing that question, as he would have undoubtedly spit it on the table.

"You wanted to talk about it," Draco said as he shifted a bit so his right arm slung across the back of his chair and crossed his long legs in front of him. He looked up to the right, "I remember hearing you kissed Chang in 5th year. Before that, it was reported that you had a thing with Granger."

Harry scowled at him, bitter memories of Rita Skeeter rising to the surface. Then Draco put his hands up as if surrendering.

"I don't believe that last one," he said, and offered something almost like a smile. Almost.

"Actually you've got all of that wrong," Harry said, "My first kiss was in 4th year, with a boy," he finished boldly. That should shut him up. Harry thought, as though this was his first interaction with Draco Malfoy.

The other man feigned shock, threw his right hand against his chest, widened his eyes and said, "No! Potter, a boy?! What a scandal, wait till the Wizarding world finds out!" Then he smirked, removed his hand, and casually took a sip of his drink.

Probably, Draco was very good at dramatic readings of Prophet articles.

"Who was your first kiss then?" Harry challenged, in an obvious attempt to remove himself as the current topic. "Pansy Parkinson? I know she couldn't keep her hands off you in school."

"Yes well," Draco replied. His hand gestured towards his body, sweeping from his chest to his thighs, as though that were a reasonable response.

Which, to be fair… he had a point. Harry tried to scoff but it came out more choked and breathy than air-of-annoyance he had been going for.

"Much to my younger self's horror," Draco began, "you and I actually share something in common with our first kiss. A lot in common, actually, it was the same person," his voice was soft and he was looking into the mug as though it was a pensieve.

Cedric kissed Malfoy? Harry's mind narrowed on that thought. A surge of jealousy affronted him. Those stolen moments and whispered words. How dare Malfoy have that as well. Then, suddenly, a new thought blasted through his petty moment, Malfoy had wanted to kiss Cedric?

That opened his mind to too many possibilities and dark forbidden fantasies began to bloom. Harry tried to stop thinking all together and asked, "How did you know?"

Draco took another drink and his expression went back to relaxed, "Slytherin," he said simply, "I was-"

Ding.

The sound broke through Harry's confused thoughts. He locked eyes with Draco and he realized the ding was his floo, it was a floocall.

"Harry?" Ginny Weasley's voice called out.

Draco gave him a slow purpose filled smirk and Harry felt his mouth go dry. He knew Draco was going to make this incredibly awkward.

Of all the people to call during Malfoy's surprise visit, why her?

They both broke from the table in a dead run. Harry had the advantage since he knew where the fireplace was but Ginny was still calling his name, acting as a homing beacon for Draco. Harry dropped to his knees sliding in front of the fireplace and braced himself against the brick hearth.

"Hi Ginny," he managed, breathlessly. He could hear Draco coming up behind him and tried to angle his body to block Ginny's view of the room.

"Harry are you all right?" she asked.

"Yes yes. Just um… I just didn't want to miss you is all," he lied.

She stared at him for a moment, the fire's flames contouring her features. "Ok," she said, slowly. "I just wanted to know if I can meet you at the club tonight? Hermione and Ron left for Australia. I promise not to interfere, the way they do, with any blokes you like."

"Oh, I-" Harry swallowed trying to think of any reason to decline he could give that would sound convincing.

"Oh Potter," Draco said from behind Harry, "you should have told me you had plans. I would have left after our first round of drinks."

Harry turned to scowl at Draco who was leaned against the entryway with a smile on his lips. Bastard, Harry thought, we haven't even had more than one round.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny whispered. When Harry looked back at the fire he could tell Ginny could see Draco. "This can't be happening," she said.

"It's not, he just came by to talk and have some tea," Harry said. Even to him, the words sounded ludacris. He tried not to grimace when Ginny's eyes snapped back to him.

"Some tea," she said warily. "Harry, I know you're, you know, rebelling or whatever and I'm supportive of that, but this," she looked back at Draco, "this is not…" She trailed off.

Harry looked back at the other man to see what had made her quiet but he wasn't sure. Draco was still standing there leaned against the entryway with those long legs and that platinum hair and that smile which grew the more Harry looked.

"Harry," Ginny said, causing Harry to flinch and turn back to meet her wide eyes. "You always have been a bit funny about him," she said, sounding like she'd just figured out the final piece of a puzzle game.

"Ginny," Harry said her name firmly, and hoped it would imply that she should stop talking.

They stared at each other for a moment, the fire heating Harry's face until Ginny broke into a fit of laughter and said, "I'm going. I'll talk to you soon Harry," and cut the connection.

Harry stood and dusted off his denims. He did not look at Draco. Feeling his hands go clammy, he toyed with the idea of summoning his invisibility cloak and making good on the move to Canada he'd been considering.

"Funny about me?" Draco asked, seeming delighted with conversation he'd heard.

Harry glared at him, "Shove off Malfoy," he said, "she doesn't know what she's talking about."

Harry walked back to the kitchen with Draco trialing after him.

Draco chuckled, "Yes that makes perfect sense, having been your girlfriend, your best friend's sister, and a good enough friend to floocall you about going to the club," he said, "I can't imagine how I got the impression that she would know anything about you."

Harry sat back down and drained the last half of his drink. He motioned to Draco's mug and said, "You should finish drinking that so we can get a refill."

Draco drank it down and when Kreacher appeared immediately, he asked the elf to switch them both to Black Firewhiskey on the rocks. Kreacher complied serving them a shot each, in fresh glasses made of fine crystal that Harry had never seen before.

Draco still hadn't sat down when he looked around the kitchen again, "Potter, don't you have somewhere else we can talk? A sitting room perhaps? This kitchen is-" he abruptly closed his mouth and grimaced.

Harry smiled to himself, it was enjoyable to see Draco attempt to swallow his words. He watched as Draco took a sip from the fresh drink, leaving his lips shining from the whiskey. Harry took a drink of his own in an unconscious mimic. His lips look just like that guy from the muggle club on Saturday. I wonder if they would feel as warm? I bet Malfoy would be good with his mouth, Harry thought, and then promptly choked on his drink.

After recovering from a bit of coughing he cleared his throat said, "Sorry. What were we talking about?" Draco looked at him as though this conversation was exhausting and Harry remembered, "Oh right, the kitchen. There aren't many rooms that are redone to be honest. The kitchen, my bedroom, and the garden patio, are the only places without something atrocious in them."

Draco glanced around the kitchen again, looked at Harry as though he'd gone mad, and said, "Can you clarify what you mean when you say atrocious?"

"Well in general it's just grossly neglected and dirty," Harry began, "On the 3rd floor is a room full of Voldemort newspaper clippings from the first war, there's spiders and cobwebs in everything, there's a couple bogarts on the 2nd floor and a portrait of a bloody sadist who screams in the hallway, an umbrella stand is here somewhere made from the leg of a troll." He paused for a moment trying to remember if he'd missed anything, "Oh! And there's a row of mounted elf heads along the stairs."

"Salazar's saggy… this place could be amazing if it were properly…. Why do you live here if you hate it?"

Harry shrugged, "It belonged to someone important to me." He looked down at his nearly empty glass, shrugged, and said, "He hated it here, but I feel closer to him, ya know?"

Draco's looked like he'd eaten a rotten Bertie Bot's jelly bean. He swallowed off the rest of his drink and Harry followed suit. Kreacher appeared and refilled their glasses without direction.

" Ok," Draco said, "Let's go to the garden patio then."

Harry stood and led Draco out to the patio, with Kreacher following behind them, carrying their drinks. Normally there was a sofa on the right side of the covered patio and a table for 6 with chairs on the left, with a plush rug in between them. However, when Harry opened the door to the patio he stopped short and stared dumbly at two large chaise lounge chairs he had never seen before with a small table in the middle.

Draco ran into the back of him, propelling Harry into the patio. "What is the matter with-" Draco closed his mouth, his lips making a thin line, then said, "Forget it, just sit down Potter before you hurt yourself.”

Harry didn't have time to appreciate that in the moment so he filed it away for later and leaned past Draco. "Kreacher," he said, "What is this about?"

Kreacher moved past the two of them and set their mugs on the little table. He then turned back to Harry, "Kreacher is making things more comfortable for Harry Potter to see the stars." He pointed up at the roof of the patio.

Harry looked up at the roof. It was made from some dark wood and didn't have any holes in it, "What?" he demanded.

Kreacher sighed heavily and said, "Harry Potter is not knowing anything about being a wizard."

"Hey!" Harry said, turning dark eyes on the elf. He went silent when he felt Draco's hand on his forearm.

"It's all right," Draco said to Harry. He faced Kreacher, "You're right Kreacher. Thank you for the lounges. Keep our drinks coming. You may leave now."

Harry scowled at the man, "Malfoy! I can't believe you agreed with him," he grumbled.

Draco grinned, "I know better than to insult the house elf in charge of my pour, Potter. Now get comfortable and I'll show you what he was talking about."

Harry stared after him as Draco sat on the lounge, swung up his long legs and leaned against the back. Once comfortable, Draco turned back to look at Harry, lifted a questioning eyebrow, and motioned to the other lounge.

Once Harry sat. Laid? Lounged. Once Harry was properly placed on the chaise lounge he looked over to Draco expectantly.

Draco looked just as expectantly back at Harry, reached out his hand and said, "Wand?"

Oh. Right. This must be why he's here. He wants his wand back.

Harry stared at the hand and swallowed thickly. There's no reason to believe Draco doesn't have someone else's wand on him, but Harry's not willing to make that argument. Considering the last time Draco requested his wand from Harry, this was much nicer.

"I don't have your wand on me," Harry said, pulling out his own. "You can use mine," he added, handing over the holy wand.

Draco looked the wand over then took it from Harry and cast, "Inlustris fabula."

Harry stared up as the wood shimmed and then seemed to smooth out, appearing as the night sky, only much smaller. There were several constellations above them, accompanied by a couple of lone stars. All of them were labeled with names from the family. They began to move around, dancing with each other. It looked like a story being told with stars. The brightest star was labeled Sirius.

"Fuck," Harry said with reverence, "I don't know anything about being a wizard."

Draco laughed. It was a clear true sound that rang through Harry with no concern for the safety of his sanity. He looked over to see Draco's left hand rested on his stomach, moving slightly from the force of the laugh. Harry liked it. He thought he would like to hear it again, then quickly smashed that thought as though it were a toxic bug sent to poison him.

This is Draco Malfoy. Pull it together.

"Most wizards and witches wouldn't know this spell actually," Draco said, once he'd collected himself. "My mother used the same charms to create one of these at the manor. It's a Black family tradition."

Draco laid the wand on the table between them and looked at Harry, "So where is my wand?" he asked. His voice was barely a whisper in the quiet garden.

Harry didn't look back at him right away just continue to watch the stars above. "Gringotts," he said and turned his head to look at Draco.

Draco's eyebrows went up, "Why?"

"Safer I guess. It was the wand that took out Voldemort, after all."

Draco grimaced at the name, then nodded and they both turned back to watch the stars dance.