m from giving himself over to itpletely.

Then Hermione’s last words came back to him: when you woke up with Draco, when he kissed you, did you like it?

Yes, Harry liked it. He’d thought about it before, if he was honest with himself. When they were out in the field and Harry could see Malfoy’s lips moving soundlessly as he traced curse magic back to its source; when they found themselves alone together in a lift or an office; that time he’d seen Malfoy in the Leaky, lips shiny with firewhisky and grey eyes light and open as he gazed over at Harry. He’d thought about crowding Malfoy up against the wall of the lift and slotting their hips together; thought about pulling Malfoy close so that he would know how his mouth felt moving against his skin; thought about sliding his tongue between those damp lips and seeing how they taste…

Five years ago…

If what Malfoy had said was true, then maybe he was in the future? His own future, one that included anniversaries and beautiful houses and even more beautiful little girls and making out on the sofa in front of a film. If that was the case, then it wasn’t really wrong, was it?

Malfoy pulled back, trailing his fingers over Harry’s cheek. “Still lost in the memory?”

Harry looked up at him and thought fast. If this really was his own future, then he could have this, couldn’t he? It wouldn’t be like he was stealing something from somebody else, because it was his. It wouldn’t be wrong, would it?

“Harry? You okay?” Harry’s body made the decision for him, tackling Malfoy back onto the sofa and landing down on top of him. Malfoy chuckled and pulled at Harry’s shirt, lifting it up over his head and throwing it across the room. Harry pulled at Malfoy’s shirt, snarling when the buttons refused to undo themselves.

“You and your bloody buttons,” he mumbled, smiling slightly because he knew this about Draco, knew he would never stoop to wearing something so simple as a t shirt, even when lounging around the house.

“You like my bloody buttons,” Draco murmured, hugging Harry’s hips with his knees and arching his neck so that Harry could latch his mouth onto a newly exposed collarbone.

“I like them better when they’re open,” Harry replied, grinning in triumph as the last one yielded to his fumbling fingers and he could finally run his hands over creamy soft skin and taut muscles. Draco lifted up so that Harry could slide the shirt down over his shoulders, the material catching where it was folded to the elbows. Harry didn’t bother trying to help him get untangled; he’d already moved on to the fly of Draco’s jeans.

Draco laughed. “I know we’ve spent the last three years rushing this in case Lissa needs something, but she’s not here right now, remember. We don’t have to go quite so fast.”

“Yes we do,” Harry kissed the words into the skin of Draco’s hip, his fingers pulling at the waistband of his jeans. “I need to be inside you, now.”

Draco sucked in a sharp breath and lifted his hips, handsing down to help Harry wr

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