Playing with Fire

Finally

Draco and Harry spent the week leading up to Bill's wedding at the Burrow, only returning to Grimmauld place to sleep.

Harry woke up when his drapes were flung open, squinting up at a smile that rivaled the light filtering into the room. Draco stood with a tray, "Well, sit up, Potter. Haven't got all day, have we?"

Harry propped himself up on the headboard and Draco placed the food on his lap.

"Breakfast in bed for the birthday boy. We've got an hour until Molly told us to be at the Burrow, so I suggest moving quickly."

Harry felt a soft heat spreading over his chest, making its way lazily down to his fingertips. "You did this for me?"

Draco's face flushed, and his words came out with a stutter, "Well, yeah."

"Come sit with me, it'll take us both to finish this small mountain of pancakes."

"I love the way your mind works," Draco lifted the covers and placed his shoulder where it was touching Harry's.

Harry glanced over at Draco, who was drizzling syrup onto the plate. He reached out a hand, taking the cup of syrup from Draco's hand and twining their fingers together. Draco's head raised and his eyes met Harry's, lips parting.

"Draco..."

"Yes," breathless was the best descriptor of the way Draco spoke this singular word.

"Can I-" Harry's free hand reached up and brushed a bit of Draco's hair behind his ear, and he leaned in so that they were even closer together.

"Merlin, Harry, you can do whatever you want."

Draco's eyes were swirling with a depth that drew Harry in, his own eyes fluttering closed.

Their lips met, Draco's cold and pillowy against his own. Harry's mind was spinning and he never wanted to be doing anything that wasn't this. Draco parted his lips, and shifted his head so their mouths connected more solidly. Harry moved his hand to the nape of Draco's neck, stroking the hair there. Draco's tongue was a languished brush against his bottom lip, and Harry leaned forward into the touch.

Draco pulled back a tinge, "Can we eat the wonderful breakfast I prepared now?" The words lost their bite as he squeezed Harry's hand and smiled sluggishly.

"Of course, dear," Harry thought he might never stop smiling.

Once they cleared the tray, Draco abruptly sent it to the floor and moved so that he was straddling Harry's hips. "We've got forty minutes and I need at least twenty to work on my hair, but I've been wanting this for years. I'm sure Bill and Fleur will be understanding," and they got lost in each other until a frantic Molly Weasley sent them a Patronus asking where they were.

Harry groaned into Draco's neck before nuzzling the area. "Do we have to?"

Draco sighed and moved back, "Unfortunately."

When they arrived at the Burrow, Molly was stalled from whisking them off due to the arrival of the Minister of Magic. Who was, for whatever reason, requesting Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione follow him into the sitting room.

Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look. Harry had the impression that the Minister was wondering whether it was worthwhile exchanging hostilities this early.

The flighty man removed a scroll of parchment from his bag, which he unrolled and read aloud. "'The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.'" Scrimgeour retrieved the object from his bag, passing it over to Ron, very obviously trying to avoid touching Ron's fingers.

Draco made eye contact with Harry at this, his shoulders a silent chuckle. Harry bit his lip to contain the laugh bubbling up in his throat.

"'To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'" He pulled out of the bag a small book that looked ancient. Harry winced at the sight, but Hermione's eyes lit up at the prospect of new reading material.

"'To Mister Draco Lucius Malfoy, I leave my copy of a lovely story, A Hopeless Affair, in the hope that he will enjoy it and learn something about himself while reading it.'" Scrimgeour wore a scowl so deep Harry feared it would crack his face open as he handed the book over to Draco. Draco looked highly confused, but accepted it and flipped through the pages aimlessly.

"'To Harry James Potter,'" he read, "'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'" Harry blinked in surprise and snatched the snitch from his gnarled hand, not caring to keep up casual pretenses any longer.

"That all, minister?"

"I mean, I suppose Mister Potter,"

"Well, off you go. Have a wonderful day." Harry paused, "or don't. Don't much care."

Ron muffled his laugh within a cough as the Minister rose from the couch, shaking his head. "Your arrogance remains unrivaled,"

"As does your ability to overstay a welcome, Minister,"

Draco rolled his eyes so hard it was almost audible over the sound of Ron cackling in the corner. Mrs Weasley entered the room in a way that indicated she'd been waiting for him to leave, her husband drifting in behind her.

"What did he want?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the content of his will."

"Wonderful. That means you lot can get around to helping set up," Molly clasped her hands together with a manic glint in her eyes.

The morning passed in a gust of preparations. Harry and Draco managed to sneak away only once, making out in an upstairs bathroom.

"Why didn't we start doing this sooner?" Draco's words were a puff of air against Harry's mouth.

Harry kissed him again before responding, "Because we are both very, very, stupid,"

It was a remarkably hot and sunny day, Harry felt sweat collecting on his forehead even before the ceremony began.

Fred and George materialized in the seats next to Hermione. "When I get married," said Fred, tugging at the collar of his robes, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body Bird curse on Mum until it's all over."

"She wasn't too bad this morning, considering," said George.

"Wasn't bad?" Fred raised a hand to his twin's forehead, "Are you feeling quite alright, Georgie? Has the heat gone to your head?"

Draco breathed a laugh and Harry didn't even try to resist the impulse to reach over and hold his hand. Draco met his gaze with a beautiful curl to his lips and entwined their fingers.

George leaned over Hermione, stage whispering to Draco, "Oi! Have you two finally shagged, we've been waiting for ages."

"Why, George? You want to watch or something?"

George sputtered before Hermione shushed all of them. "It's starting, guys,"

And sure enough, there was Fleur floating down the aisle. She was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow.

When she reached her fiance and grabbed his hands, the officiant's voice bounced throughout the tent,

"Ladies and gentlemen," said her singsong voice, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls..."

Harry tuned out the rest of the ceremony in favor of looking over at Draco, whose hair was wafting in the breeze. He imagined seeing him at the end of an aisle just like this one. Knowing how crazy the idea was given they were days from embarking on a dangerous and mysterious journey. Knowing the chances of him surviving the coming war was dwindling. But then Draco caught his eye and looked Harry up and down before winking at him. And Harry allowed a seed of hope to plant itself in his heart.