𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

Part 1

Title: Home
Author: Khasael
Pairing: Harry/Draco (side Ron/Hermione, Bill/Fleur, Ginny/OC)
Rating: PG-13
Era: Approximately 10 years post-Hogwarts. Canon compliant through DH, but ignores the epilogue.
Word Count ~17,000
Warning(s): (highlight to read)*angst, discussions of suicide, brief mention of past self-harm*
Summary: Draco struggles to leave the past in the past and figure out exactly what he wants. Harry works to attain what he is sure he wants.

Draco couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed his birthday. When he was a child, his parents had thrown lavish parties at the Manor, inviting their friends and some of the higher ups in the Ministry, or families Draco now knew to have Death Eater connections. Occasionally, those guests would even have children near his age. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy became regular guests at the age of six or seven. There wasn't much in the way of fun at these celebrations, but that had never bothered him. It was the life of a Malfoy-extravagant decorations, exotic foods, and high-priced entertainment (usually music-at least his mother'd had good taste in that department). It may not have been something he took great joy in, but neither had he minded much. It was what he had been accustomed to. Once he had started school, there had been massive care packages to replace the extravagant parties. No one could give gifts like his mother could.

There hadn't been much in the way of celebration since the war had ended, though. His father, of course, had gone straight to Azkaban. And while he and his mother had come through with their freedom, thanks to Harry Potter, there seemed little cause for parties. The Malfoy name was in tatters, much of their wealth had been taken as war reparations, and the number of Howlers and death-threats had made sure that Draco and his mother wanted nothing more than to hole up quietly. Every year, he would sit and remember with a pang all the parties he'd had when he was younger. If pressed, he would admit that he missed them. But no one ever asked, and he was luckier than he should have been to have his freedom.

There were no big crowds this year, no band or ice sculptures, or cakes nearly as tall as he was. There was simply an intense black-haired man to share a meal with, in a dark corner of an exclusive restaurant. Draco thought that Harry might have had to use his name to secure a reservation here, and the gesture was not lost on him. He knew how much Harry hated doing that. Which was almost funny, considering how convinced he had been years ago that Harry did that sort of thing all the time, just because he could.

"I still don't know why you didn't want a party," Harry sighed at him as he paid their bill. "I have no problem with Blaise, and I...could have put up with Pansy for an evening."

Draco smiled at him. He had been quite touched when Harry offered to throw him a party, and offered to invite his old Slytherin friends in the same breath. When he had declined, Harry had suggested inviting some of his Muggle acquaintances instead. While Draco knew for certain that Harry would get along with his neighbours much better than he would with Pansy, he had nixed that idea as well. "I would much rather spend an evening with you."

"But we do that all the time," Harry said with a shrug. That didn't stop Draco from noticing the pleased look on his face or the blush creeping up his neck.

"That's true, but it's different when you're out celebrating something. I know I don't agree to go out as often as you would like, and I'm working on that. Though you really didn't have to choose someplace so expensive when I said yes."

"I just thought this might be the kind of thing you'd like. And I wanted to do something special for you. Because I'm pretty certain the gift I got you doesn't quite measure up."

Leaning forward across the table, Draco kissed Harry and nipped at his lower lip. It reminded him of their first kiss, only he had no intention of Apparating away alone this time. "Everything you do is special." He'd had rather a lot of wine at dinner, as it seemed every time he looked up, his goblet had been full. He was feeling quite...fuzzy. In the best possible way. "Now let's go back to your place. Dinner was very nice, but dessert sounds better."