When September Ends

Chapter 14: Dragon's Eye

Smoke had filled the kitchen of their large home, the muffins that Harry had pulled from the oven looked more like charcoal than blue berry and he couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that the house wasn't equipped with smoke alarms or sprinklers.

Regardless the smell was enough to send Tom running into the room wild eyed and half dressed.

"Harry, what happened? Where's the fire?"

"No fire. I did make muffins though." When he held up the pan, parts of the muffins crumbling slightly with the motion. "I burned them a little bit. Sorry."

"You burned...oh, thank God!" Relief crossed his features momentarily before they scrunched up again and he began to laugh. "I love you doll, I do, but please promise me not to touch the stove or oven when I'm not in the house."

"I'm not a child, Tom, I just...dozed off and left them in too long."

"For my peace of mind, please."

Harry huffed and set the tin down. "Fine."

"Doll." He reached out to cup his cheek, turning him back to look at him. "It's the thought, not the outcome, that really counts. I'm glad that you took it upon yourself to try and make breakfast; you had to have woken up very early to do that and I know how much you hate doing that."

"Woke up early? Tom, I didn't sleep at all last night; I had too much to do today, like napping, to waste the time last night sleeping."

The brunet chuckled and kissed him lightly, pulling back much too quickly for the raven's liking and prompting him to mewl in disappointment.

"I have to head to work, love. As much as I'd love to stay here with you, we both know I can't." He said. "Pack me some muffins, would you?"

"You want these?"

"I'm sure that there is something in them that's edible; they can't be completely charcoal." He kissed him again and headed back up the stairs to finish getting dressed. Harry had wrestled a couple of the badly burned muffins out of their cups by means of a butter knife and packed them up into a sandwich bag for Tom to take with him to his law firm by the time he came back down with his hair perfectly groomed and his clothing in place.

"You're sure that you want these?" he asked as he handed the bag over. "I don't want to be responsible for making you sick! People can die from food poisoning!"

"I don't think that you can get food poisoning from burned food. A charcoal overdose, however-."

"I don't want you to get that either!"

The brunet laughed at him and took the muffins before pulling him in. "I'll be fine, my dear. And I'm sure that your cooking is not as bad as you seem to believe."

"You have way too much faith in me, Tom."

"We'll see." He stepped away. "Now I have to leave; I'll be late for work if I don't."

Harry nodded and reluctantly allowed his husband to exit the kitchen. Watching him head out the front door and towards the jaguar.

He already missed the lazy days that they'd spent up at the cabin, with nothing more pressing to do than life tangled up in bed together with nothing to separate their skin, basking in each other's company with no need to worry about deadlines or jobs.

Tom set the bag of muffins down in the passenger seat of the car and slid the keys into the ignition, pulling down the driveway and onto the street.

M and R Law firm was as busy as it ever was when in the midst of the morning commute. Little bag of muffins in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Tom straightened his tie and strode into the office with his head held high.

Draco was, surprisingly, already in by the time that he got there. Tom couldn't say that he knew precisely what had motivated the younger Malfoy to show himself before noon, though he suspected that it had something to do with Lucius, but he wasn't going to complain. He needed to be brought up to speed on what had happened while he was away.

"Report on the Coppa Case, Draco." He barked, authoritative but restrained. The perfect image of an in control boss who was to be respected. "Have things been finished or need I catch up on the matter to be able to attend court proceedings."

"Proceedings finished on Saturday, Sir."

"And?"

"We won."

"Who handled it?"

"I did."

Tom looked up curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Oh?" he unpeeled the first muffin and pulled the burned skin away until he located where charcoal transitioned into muffin. "Well done, Draco. It seems that you've learned something here after all."

"Thank you, Sir." He set the nail file that he'd been using down on his desk." Tom." When he didn't receive a reprimand for referring to him in friendly terms he continued. "Tom, I...it's good to have you back. I know that it was really hard for you for a while. After Harry..."

"Yes, it was difficult but we've gotten through it. Together. My husband and I just spent a marvelous extended anniversary weekend up in our cabin at the Lake of the Ozarks." He flipped open a binder full of documents and began looking through them. "He's doing well and I'm sure he'd be pleased to see you again."

"I...he...o-oh, I see. Well, that's...I'm glad to hear that."

Tom grumbled in response around a mouthful of muffin. "Indeed. Now as much as I'd love to talk about Harry all day we do have work to do, Draco. Put that nail file away."

"Yes, Sir."

Draco spent the rest of the day directing off looks in his employer's direction whenever he thought he wasn't looking. When the day was finally over he quickly vacated the premises and headed to the nearest florist to pick up some white lilies before driving out to Little Hangleton Cemetery.

The beautifully carved granite headstone gleamed in the light of late evening, the flowers that had last been left there shriveled to a near unrecognizable degree. Draco sighed and removed them, replacing the old flowers with the new ones.

"If it wasn't clear enough before, it is now." He said. "And we thought it was unhealthy when he was sleeping out here. Your husband has completely lost his mind, Harry. I understand that denial is a stage of grief but...this seems a little bit excessive. Not that anything isn't excessive regarding Thomas Marvolo Riddle."

The recent rains that had been blanketing the area had left to face of the weeping angel adorning the grave streaked with what almost looked like tear tracks.

"But you don't need to worry about him. He'll recover, eventually. Until then, well...we aren't you, we never will be, but we're there for him. And I like to think he knows that."