Chapter Twenty-One

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It was Christmas time now, and most everyone was going home for the holidays.

Harry had respectfully declined the Weasleys' invitation to stay with them, saying he had someone special he wanted to spend the holidays with at Hogwarts instead.

Draco's mother and father had asked him home for the holidays, but he said he had some important business he needed to finish up by the New Year, and couldn't go.

That important business was finding a permanent spot for his tongue inside his boyfriend's mouth.

"Good job, Potter," he teased one afternoon. The two were sitting in the empty dining hall just after lunch, Draco on Harry's lap. "You've finally found a good use for that mouth of yours."

The brunette grinned. "I could say the same about you, Malfoy."

"You're still, however, absolutely terrible at retorts," the Slytherin continued.

"Shut up."

"Gladly. . ."

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