Cupid Wings

27. Changes

It was Christmas night and Harry was lying on his back in his bed at Grimmauld Place. Draco was pressed against his side, into the crook of his arm, his head resting on Harry's shoulder, a leg hooked over Harry's, and an arm flung across Harry's chest.

Harry listened to the blond man's breathing change as he drifted into a satiated sleep. He knew he would get a dead arm like this but he didn't want to move as he held Draco against him, his fingers lazily feeling the smooth flat planes and angles of Dray's naked body; his side where it dipped slightly, the sharpness of his hip bone, the small of his back. It was almost as if he couldn't stop touching the other man, like he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have him in his arms, to have him naked in his bed. His other hand ran idly along Dray's arm, feeling the sinewy muscles of his biceps and the fine hairs of his slender forearm. Harry turned his head slightly and sighed in contentment as he buried his lips and nose into the fine blond hair that tickled his face. He kissed Draco's hair softly, grateful that things were as they were, grateful to be alive and to be lying here with the man he loved.

After the incident in Hogsmeade, life had been a little chaotic. Of course, the Ministry couldn't contain the information that Harry was the Hunter and Pads was the White Wolf, it was too much to expect. Too many people had seen them and eventually people began to piece the pieces together. In the end, Kingsley had to make a public announcement. At least it calmed the jittery parents and sent the big game hunters away. It did mean that Harry was once more lauded a hero for saving the students, Neville and Luna, and a number of locals in the pub as well as for the capture of Dolohov.

What didn't make it into the news was any information about Harry's ankle. It was fixed. That much was confirmed through the number of follow-up diagnosis meetings he had to attend both at the school and at St Mungo's. It wasn't perfect though. Because he'd been unable to finish Severus's potion prescription, the ankle wasn't in its most wholesome state; there were still signs of wasting. However, all degeneration had been stopped and the curse was completely lifted. And yes, he was stuck with his walking cane and yes, his ankle ached if he over used it, but he wasn't going to die so he could live with his situation.

Besides, Draco really didn't seem to mind and that was all that mattered.

Minerva had agreed that very few of the staff needed to stay at the school that Christmas break as there were only a few students staying on. And because of all the excitement, she certainly agreed to Harry going home for the break. Harry had invited Draco and, naturally, Severus had come home too, bringing Maddie with him. They had all spent Christmas day at the Weasleys. Harry hadn't planned to, what with wanting spend the day with Draco and with Narcissa coming over from France too for a reunion with her sister. It felt like an imposition. But Molly, being Molly, insisted.

Severus had already joined the fold for the previous four years, much to Harry's entertainment. He looked, as always, deeply uncomfortable in such a chaotic social situation.

The first year, Harry found him hiding in the garden after he'd taken Pads out for a run around.

Severus was smoking.

'I didn't know you smoked, Severus,' Harry had exclaimed, finding the man literally hiding behind Arthur's shed. He was sitting on a garden bench in a cloud of white smoke with a long elegant brown cigarette between his fingers.

'Obviously I do,' he drawled. 'Actually, I only indulge on Christmas Day. It's my little treat to myself.'

Harry realised, with some horror, that it was possibly Severus' first Christmas in company in a long time. He diplomatically didn't say anything.

When Harry found Severus behind the shed during the second Christmas at The Burrow, his cigarette looked hand rolled and the smoke that lingered around him smelt rather distinctively sweet and metallic.