Once a month, Harry would leave Draco at home to go to the bar with Ron and Hermione. Hermione never drank, as she wanted to be able to get home safely.
Harry walked into the bustling pub and quickly spotted his two friends. He hurried over and sat down, hearing them greet him and greeting them back happily.
Hours had gone by and both Harry and Ron were drunk out of their minds. Hermione was struggling to keep them still and quiet so she decided that it was time to go home. She bid Harry a farewell and left with Ron.
When Harry walked through the door he was greeted with a smile from Draco who was sitting on the couch.
"Malfoy," Harry slurred rather loudly.
Draco laughed. "It's Potter, dear. It has been for seven years."
"Why are you in my house? How are you in my house?" Harry seemed to be preparing to run if he had to.
Draco stood slowly and carefully walked over to Harry, but made sure to keep his distance. "Harry, dear, we've lived together for ten years and been married for seven. Let's get you changed and into bed."
Harry took a short while to consider if he trusted him, then noticed the matching rings on both their hands. He practically fell into Draco. He didn't struggle when Draco picked him up and carried him to their room, changing him and getting him in bed.
The next morning, Harry woke up to a howler from Hermione.
"HARRY, YOU IDIOT! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LET ME KNOW THAT YOU GOT HOME SAFELY! YOU BETTER BE HOME BECAUSE THE SECOND YOU ARE I WILL KILL YOU!"
