Chapter 11
In Which We See the Aforementioned Principals of Fashion Applied to Life

Harry woke up slowly, confused. His feet were freezing, but the rest of him felt sweaty, overheated, and his blanket seemed heavy and awkward. He realized first that he was still wearing his clothes, and his lack of socks or shoes was what was making his feet so cold. Then he realized that he was on top of the comforter, and that it was not, in fact, his comforter. He blinked a few times, then looked down to confirm his next suspicion.

He was not, as he had supposed, underneath any blankets at all. Instead, a head of blond hair was pressed into the curve of his shoulder, with a silk-clad arm draped across his waist, and long legs tangled with his own. His arms were wrapped around Draco in a disturbingly natural-seeming way, one hand on his shoulder, the other tracing unconscious patterns on Draco's flank. He blushed as he realized just what, exactly, was digging into his hip.

He vaguely remembered drifting off, with Draco poking him and sleepily teasing that their reputations would never survive if Harry spent the night. Evidently Draco had fallen asleep soon after, and Harry could only wonder if the cuddling had commenced before or after Draco had lost consciousness. He shifted slightly, his anatomy rather uncomfortably positioned for waking up first thing in the morning to an armful of lovely boy, and wondered if he could get out of it without disturbing Draco.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," said a soft, sleepy voice.

"Oh! I... you're awake," Harry replied, figuring his lack of anything resembling an intelligent response could be explained away by having just woken up.

Draco shifted, moving not away but closer. "You know," said Draco quietly, "That's the first time I've slept through the night since we found them."

Harry's arms tightened. "I'd stay every night if I could keep you from bad dreams," he whispered, giving in to the urge to rub his cheek against Draco's soft hair.

"I think eventually one of the Professors would figure us out," he said with a snort. "And I don't even want to imagine being told off by Snape and McGonagall for this." Draco was pulling away now, and Harry forced himself to let go.

"Next time, can we at least use the covers? My feet are freezing," complained Harry good-naturedly. He lay still as Draco crawled off the bed and padded over to the wardrobe. He hardly dared to breathe when Draco began peeling out of yesterday's clothing, revealing pale white skin crisscrossed with even whiter scars.

"You're allowed to ask," said Draco evenly as he dropped his pants, bending over to scoop everything up and tossing it into the small hamper wedged in the corner between night table and wardrobe, and giving Harry a view that would fuel his private moments for quite awhile. Right now, it just made him ache to see more white scars running over such tender flesh.

"They match the kids we found," said Harry, heart pounding in his chest for a hundred reasons.

"My father's handiwork," said Draco softly, bitterly. He stood, naked, vulnerable, with his back to Harry, tension holding his frame taut as a wire. "I was eleven. He caught me kissing another boy, at my birthday party. It..." he stopped, took a deep breath. "It was the last time he ever touched me, for any reason."

Harry slid off the bed quietly, laid a hand on Draco's shoulder, offering, asking. Draco turned, crumpled into Harry's embrace and sobbed quietly. "They were a message to me, Harry. He remembered every single thing he'd done to me, and did it to them just before they were sent back."

"I will protect you from him, Draco," said Harry softly. It was a vow, a promise. No matter what happened, he would not allow Lucius to have his son back for such a purpose. "I'll keep you safe."

Draco stayed in his arms for a long time, and Harry wondered if Draco ever had someone to hold him like this while he cried. "I'm sorry I wasn't your friend, before," said Harry softly, when Draco had quieted down to intermittent sniffles.

"It's all right," said Draco, smiling through a tear-streaked face as he pulled away just enough to look Harry in the eye. "I was such a prat back then, I can't really blame you."

They both laughed, and the moment slid away like the sun going under a cloud, leaving them quiet and a bit unsure. "You know," said Harry with an exaggerated leer, "This wasn't how I pictured it going the first time I got you naked."

Draco laughed and pulled away, giving Harry a shove on the shoulder. "Get dressed, you perv, we've got shopping to do!"

Harry went and dug through his bag. He'd brought "the outfit" on the off chance they stayed up all night. He waited until Draco had at least some underpants on before shedding his own clothing, figuring that the two of them simultaneously naked in the same room might cause something to short out in his brain. The underpants were no easier to lace over an erection this time than last time, and Draco was tossing impatient comments at him by the time he'd managed to get the bottom half of the outfit on.

"Christ, Harry, am I going to have to dress you myself next, er, time?" Draco had been grumping when Harry turned, wearing boots and white pants with his chest completely bare. He was having trouble keeping himself tucked below the waistband of the pants, and Draco's eyes grew wide and his cheeks pink as he spied the reason for Harry's delay.

"Unless you've got a suggestion for how to deal with this difficulty, I'm going to need a few moments alone to take care of it," snapped Harry grouchily, throwing on the robe and starting to work on the buttons.

"I, er..." said Draco, and Harry smiled inwardly that he'd finally managed to disconcert him. "I'll just go down to breakfast and wait, then, shall I?"

Harry laughed as Draco's face reddened charmingly. "I promise not to make a mess on your lovely comforter," said Harry teasingly, and Draco went even pinker.

"You're going to..." he made the gesture, much dirtier-looking than elegant this time. "In here?"

"Where else am I going to have a moment to myself?" said Harry, grinning evilly this time. "Unless you've got another suggestion..."

"I'll... er..." Draco scooted out the door in record time. "See you at breakfast!" he called as he disappeared.

Harry chuckled. He figured his plan would backfire once Draco had recovered his poise and realized he could now tease Harry about the whole affair, but it was worth it to watch Draco's panicked reaction. He finished the buttons on the coat, but elected to leave the sleeves off until after he'd taken care of his rather pressing issue. He grabbed his discarded t-shirt, and slid the pants down to his thighs, wiping away the slick puddle on his belly.

He unlaced enough to get a good grip, and summoned up the image of Draco bent over, imagined the things Harry could do with him in that position. After that, it didn't take long. In fact, it took longer to get his sleeves on properly than it had to relieve his morning, er, tension, which made him worry for the future of a day wearing these pants in public, with Draco at his side.

He shrugged and headed down to breakfast, figuring it'd work itself out, or a detailed description of his assets would end up, complete with photo, in next week's Witch Weekly. Either way, he was doomed to endless teasing.

---

Draco was lounging in the dungeon corridor just off the Great Hall. "Finished tossing off?" he asked, smirking. "I wasn't sure if we were still planning on shocking the Gryffindors with a snake in their midst," he added, to explain why he'd waited.

"I think we'd better, if only to keep them off my clothing for a bit," said Harry moodily, suddenly aware that he'd have to wear the outfit into the Great Hall in about two seconds. Draco was wearing the white leather pants and boots from last night, topped this time with a huge, fluffy white cashmere sweater with silvery grey snakes twining around the base. "Er, aren't you going to be cold?" he asked, giving Draco a poke in the hip.

"The sacrifices we make for fashion," he said lightly. "That, and a warming spell on the pants. There's a matching top, but I figured you might have a stroke," he added, snickering.

Draco linked his arm into Harry's and dragged him into the Great Hall, not even bothering to pause at the collective gasp their appearance caused before dragging them over to the Gryffindor table, to sit between Ron and Hermione. "I thought you two would never show up!" said Hermione, winking at Harry.

"We fell asleep," said Harry, glaring, and Ron snorted his juice. "We did!"

"I'll believe it when Draco confirms it," said Hermione. "I'd hoped you'd manage to at least wait until I finished my research, you know."

"As much as I'd like to lay claim to Potter's virtue," said Draco softly, "I'm afraid it's still intact. We really did just fall asleep."

"Not even snogging?" said Ron, rather too loudly.

"Tragically, no," said Harry, glaring at everyone around him equally. Parvati and Lavender were making their way over towards him, grinning fit to burst.

"You got him to wear it!" said Parvati, giving Draco a nervous little hug that left Draco rather speechless.

"You're the ones that made me promise," said Harry, pouting. "At least his has buckles," he added, pointing to Draco's pants below the table line.

"Ooh, let us see!" said Lavender, tugging on Draco's chair. Everyone was staring already, so Harry stood up and held out his hand. "We might as well, everyone's dying for another look."

Draco glared, but complied. They stood and both did a slow twirl, Harry turning a bright pink when he caught the eyes of his teachers on him. Snape looked sour as usual, but McGonagall looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh, and Dumbledore was grinning and saying rather loudly, "Perhaps I shall have to get Malfoy to pick out my next set of robes, eh, Minerva?"

"I'll get you for this, Harry," hissed Draco as they sat down again.

"I certainly hope so," said Harry mildly, nibbling on his toast. Evidently, he mused, once you got to a certain point of utter public humiliation, you just got over yourself. He winked at Draco, who spluttered a bit before turning back to his porridge.

The rest of breakfast went relatively uneventfully, and they all left for Hogsmeade in good cheer, Draco with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, Harry with Ron, Hermione and, of all people, Eloise Midgen. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom attached themselves to the group as they were leaving, and off they went.

Their first stop was at Honeydukes, where Harry put in a clandestine order for a rather large number of chocolate frogs to be delivered to Hogwarts. If he was going to keep hanging around with Draco, he'd need a special stash. In the meantime, he got an assortment of other chocolates for them to try later tonight, including one box that he was sure would make Draco blush -- little chocolate fairies with cinnamon spice filling, and a dusting of sugar crystals that glittered when their wings flapped.

When they finally left, Draco also had a small bag of candy, which he refused to share or even divulge the contents of. Most of the group drifted off in twos and threes, Ron and Eloise going off for an ice cream, Hermione with Luna and Neville muttering something about Dervish and Banges. Crabbe and Goyle headed straight for Zonko's, much to everyone's amusement, and Draco practically dragged Harry into the clothier's. They all agreed to meet back at the Three Broomsticks in a few hours.

Harry had only actually been inside Gladrags once before, and he was intimidated by the whole affair. Understated cubbies full of elegant robes lined the pale cream-coloured room, while a completely eccentric assortment of hats adorned the hat-tree rotating slowly in the centre. A witch in a set of simple mauve robes was gliding towards them with a look of professional welcome on her face. "Why, Master Malfoy, so good to see you again!"

She did a rather unprofessional double take when she saw who it was standing shyly behind Draco. "And Harry Potter," she said, amazed. "My, my, someone's been teaching you how to dress!"

"Yes, yes," said Harry rather grumpily. "Worst dressed two years in a row and all that."

"Well, obviously not anymore!" she said cheerily. "Why, Draco, you don't have on the matching top! And we tailored it just for you."

Draco's cheeks had gone a bit pink, which cheered Harry up immensely. "The top was a little too attention-getting for a day out at Hogsmeade, I thought."

"Quite right, quite right," she said, bustling them over to a small cluster of padded stools and angled mirrors. "There, now. Anything specific in mind?"

"Harry needs a whole new wardrobe," said Draco, grinning. "I think this is about as much skin as he's willing to show, though, so anything too flash you can just save for me," he added with a wink.

The witch bustled off, muttering about silk and buckles, and Harry whispered, "There's things that show more skin than yours?"

"You haven't seen the real top half of the outfit," Draco leaned in to whisper back, smirking. "If you're very good I'll put it on for you when we get back."

"Tease," said Harry, shivering as Draco's breath tickled his cheek.

"Flirt," replied Draco.

Harry thought he might've done or said something more, but the witch came bustling back, arms laden with clothing. "Well, aren't you two just the most adorable couple!" Before Harry could protest, she shoved more than half the pile of clothes into Harry's arms. "Here's for you to try on, dear, and Draco, you take these. Off you go!"

"Why didn't you tell her we aren't a couple?" hissed Harry, as he followed Draco, presumably to the changing rooms.

"Because then she'd make us get dressed in separate cubicles, and I think you're going to need a hand," Draco replied serenely, opening the door to reveal a rather large mirrored room, complete with a couple of padded chairs with matching footstools, as well as several free-floating shelves. "Besides, you should've seen the look on your face, it was priceless!"

Draco deposited his pile on the nearest floating shelf and slipped the sweater off. Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Draco's entire naked upper body, the trousers low enough that the fine line of blond curls down Draco's stomach didn't so much disappear as meld with the ones trying to peek out the top. Harry's mouth was suddenly very dry, and he covered up as best he could by messing about with the clothing he'd been given.

It seemed to run high to silk, leather and velvet, and odd constructions involving straps and buckles. "Er, Draco, are you sure about this?" Harry turned, holding onto a garment that appeared to be made entirely of spider webs. He caught his breath and bit his lip to stifle the involuntary moan at the sight before him. Draco was completely nude, stretching in front of the mirrors like a cat, reflected a thousand times over.

His toned muscles were crisscrossed with old scars, some of them eerily familiar, others simple souvenirs of perfectly ordinary childhood mishaps. His curls were a darker blond than his hair, and he lay nestled in them, soft and pink and tempting. Harry took a step backward, as if he could flee from the urges running through his veins, to kneel and nuzzle and suck, to see if he could make Draco scream his name, or moan and beg to be allowed to finish. Harry forced himself to look down, away, blushing.

"You look so charming when you blush, Harry," said Draco teasingly. There was a rustle of cloth, then he added, "It's all right, you can look now."

Harry opened his eyes to find that Draco was now swathed head to toe in a robe of deep green velvet. A series of circles were cut out of it and edged with silver embroidery, ranging from one the size of a quarter over the hollow of his throat down to one the size of a saucer over one hipbone, then disappearing behind him. Harry glanced up at the mirror and saw one that just flashed the very top edge of Draco's thigh where it met his body, then the backs of his legs, then his calves and ankles.

"Oh," sighed Harry, enchanted. He shook himself, then grinned and winked. "You couldn't wear that to Potions class!"

"That's not really a big concern for me, Harry." He swirled around in it, looking in the mirror. "Does it show too much of my ass when I move?"

Harry choked slightly, then rallied a mischievous grin. "Depends on the result you're going for, I'd say."

Draco gave him a glare. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

Harry's grin widened. "Well, if you want to say 'come and get it,' then you're doing great, but if you're going for the same kind of tease as the pants, then it's a bit much."

Draco gave another twirl, gracing Harry with a very nice view of the spot where his legs and ass met, hiding so many secrets. "I do see what you mean," said Draco. "Too bad, I rather like the effect otherwise."

"Er, maybe if you wore some pants under them?"

Draco grinned evilly, then glanced down at Harry's rather obvious appreciation. "That would ruin the effect."

Harry blushed. "If you're quite done, could you show me how the bloody hell I'm supposed to put this on?"

Draco grabbed the offending garment and shook it out. It still seemed like tatters, but he could almost see that it might have once been supposed to be robes of some kind. "Oh, dear, she really does fancy you, Harry. I don't know if you'll want to be seen in this, but I'd love to get you in it for a few minutes. Strip, and I'll find the other bits."

Harry turned pinker, but complied. He'd found the trick to getting the buttons undone quickly, at least, and was down to the complicated underwear when Draco turned back, arms full of wispy cloth.

A voice called through the door, "Getting along all right in there, dears?" Somehow, just the thought of her seeing him like this was enough to quell his... enthusiasm.

Harry's eyes grew wide as the doorknob rattled. Draco saved him by leaping over to guard the door, calling out, "Just fine, Mathilda, but we need a few more minutes. Harry's not used to the complexities of high fashion, after all."

"All right, then, but you'll let me see how they look?" she sounded very disappointed that she wasn't being asked to help with the fitting.

"Of course," Draco replied smoothly. Her footsteps moved away, and he walked over, handing Harry the oddest-looking pair of trousers he'd ever seen.

"I am not wearing those in front of her," said Harry, glaring. The cobweb-looking stuff turned out to be translucent layers of artfully torn white silk, which fluttered and gaped in ways that Harry was sure would be obscene.

"They're charmed to stay put, don't be a git. But, you're right, if she's going to expect to see you modelling things, I think we'll have to pass on these."

Harry handed them back, relieved. "Did she bring anything I might actually wear in public?"

Harry followed Draco's ass... er, Draco, over to the laden shelf. Draco summoned over an empty one, then began tossing items onto it that he deemed unacceptable. Harry was very glad they were under a time constraint, as he had a feeling that despite verdicts like, "Too low cut," and "Practically obscene," Draco would have made him try them all on. Eventually he settled on a set of deep red robes in velvet, with gold velvet breeches and a gold silk shirt.

"Guess you get to keep your knickers on," he said, unsuccessfully attempting to keep a straight face.

"Watch it, or I'll make you wear that robe out in public," said Harry, sliding into the gold velvet pants. Draco glared, then slipped out of the robe with enough suggestiveness to make Harry happy he'd properly covered his lower half.

Draco pawed through his own pile, swearing lightly. "That woman is determined to see some part of me that was never meant to be public!"

"Having a bit of trouble?" Harry padded over, feet bare, dressed all in gold. He tried not to react to Draco's nakedness, with limited success.

"Every single thing here is either cut so low that I'll practically leap out the top if I even think improper thoughts, or flashes my ass in some way."

"Well, you did tell her to give you the more risque items," said Harry smugly.

"Yes, but she seems to have taken that to heart. Evidently, my recent birthday has given her ideas."

"When was your birthday?" exclaimed Harry, surprised.

Draco turned pink. "Er, two weeks ago Thursday. Day before you, y'know." He mimed drinking a potion, although for a moment Harry had thought that he was going to do the other, more familiar hand motion.

"Why didn't you tell me?" said Harry, eyes glinting. "I'll buy you the green robe if you promise to wear it only for me."

Draco laughed. "I don't think I'm quite ready for you to be that familiar with my ass, Harry."

Harry laughed, and resisted the urge to point out that Draco was currently flashing Harry with quite a bit more of the ass in question. "Well, look, what about the robe, with these black velvet breeches?" He pulled out a set of low-cut breeches with silver-edged cutouts running up the fronts of the thighs. They were, of course, in the shape of sinuous serpents. "The robes will cover what the breeches don't, and vice versa."

They heard footsteps coming their way, and Draco wordlessly began scrambling into them. He managed to get himself tucked away and was struggling back into the robe when Mathilda knocked again. "About ready, dears?"

"Just getting my robe settled," said Harry, grabbing the deep red velvet and draping it around himself. Draco, back in the tantalizing green, helped him adjust the shoulders so it framed all the gold silk and velvet dramatically. They were just stepping apart when she opened the door and walked in.

"Oh, now don't you two look lovely. I have just the boots for that, Harry, if you'll come with me," Harry and Draco exchanged glances, then followed her dubiously out into the main room. Their suspicions were confirmed when they spotted one of Witch Weekly's photographers chatting up one of the other sales girls. "Here you are, put these on," she said, handing Harry a pair of gold socks with red griffons on them, and a pair of boots the same garnet as the robes.

He slipped into them while she fussed over Draco, wary of the reporter that was sure to be lurking somewhere near as well. "Well, don't you look more like a proper hero," said a squeaky voice at his elbow, and he looked down to find Professor Flitwick gazing up at him, eyes sparkling with good humour.

"Thank you, professor. Draco's been trying to force a sense of style on me," said Harry, glancing over at where Mathilda seemed to be fussing at Draco over the breeches.

"You'd better rescue your young friend, then, if you want to get out of here in one piece. She's had her eye on him for years, the old bat," said Flitwick with a wink. He raised his voice and called out, "Mathilda, dear, can you help an old man find some socks?"

Harry grabbed Draco and disappeared into the dressing room while she was distracted, shucking out of the outfit quickly. "Look, can you spell the lock or something?"

Draco grinned, but complied. "Obfirimus," he murmured, and Harry felt something click into place. "It won't keep her out if she's really determined, though, so we'd better choose and go."

Things went faster then, as anything too odd-looking was discarded without even a try-on, teasing kept to a minimum in favour of speed. In the end, Harry found half a dozen sets of robes, breeches and shirts that could be interchanged, and he slipped the green robe for Draco into his pile surreptitiously. Most of what he ended up with was black, gold or red, but there was one pair of green pants that he just liked for no real reason, and would probably have to raid Draco's wardrobe for a shirt before he could actually wear them out.

Draco decided to give in to temptation and buy the snake breeches, with a matching high-necked top made of the same close-fitting velvet. It cut off just below his ribs and had long, flowing sleeves. There was even a little matching snake cutout right below the collar, exposing the lickable line of his sternum. The loose, open robe that went over it was a deep, heavy green velvet with subtle black snakes charmed to slither in bewildering patterns around the hemline. Everything else was left strewn about the changing room.

They dressed back in the clothing they'd arrived in, grabbed their chosen items, and their previous Honeydukes purchases, and made their way back out to the main shop. "I think we've got everything picked out," said Draco, smiling, and Mathilda had the grace not to look too disappointed that she hadn't gotten a further fashion show.

"Let me just add you up, dears," she said, waving her wand over Harry's pile first. "That'll be 237 galleons, 11 sickles and 3 knuts, please." She waved her wand again, and the things began folding themselves into elegant grey boxes with "Gladrags, London, Paris, Hogsmeade" embossed on them in gold. At Harry's stunned expression, she asked, "Charge it to your Gringotts vault, dear?"

"Er, yeah, please," said Harry, who doubted he had anywhere near that much gold in cash, even if he summoned his emergency stash from school.

"Mine, too," said Draco as she boxed it up, smiling.

"I knew you'd like this one, dear, although it's a shame about that other robe. It really showed off your assets quite well." She produced two bits of parchment, one for each, and a pair of silvery grey quills already loaded with ink. "I'll just have these delivered to Hogwarts for you, shall I?"

Harry choked a bit when he saw the amount again, then signed the promissory note anyway. "Er, Draco, do you always spend this much on clothes?" he asked as they were leaving, feeling odd about having spent so much without even a single sock in hand to show for it.

"Of course, only the best for a Malfoy. I'm just lucky they didn't freeze my trust fund when dear old Dad defected to the Dark Lord's side for good," said Draco, shuddering expressively. "I might've had to learn to budget."

Harry laughed, and held the door of the Three Broomsticks open for Draco. It was funny, but after all the absurd clothing he'd seen in Gladrags, Harry didn't feel the least bit self-conscious in his current outfit anymore. At least it was only his shoulders that were showing, he thought, admiring again the line of bared skin running down Draco's leg under the buckles.

Ron and Eloise were nowhere to be found, but Ginny had joined Luna, Hermione and Neville at a large table in the corner. Crabbe and Goyle were lurking near it, as if unsure of their welcome without Draco to intervene. "Sit down, you two, you're looming!" said Hermione crossly as they approached.

"Yes, do join us," said Draco, taking the seat next to Ginny and lounging in altogether too sensual a manner for a pub. They sat, glaring, on the other side of Harry, who had taken the seat on Draco's left.

"Are you sure about all this hanging about with Gryffindors stuff?" asked Crabbe, glowering about the table. Goyle just looked faintly confused at not being allowed to sit in his usual station at Draco's side.

"You might even enjoy it if you give us half a chance," said Ginny brightly, sipping her butterbeer.

"Oh, like you'd ever want to hang out with the likes of us without your golden boy around," sneered Goyle.

"Well, you'll never know until you try, will you?" said Luna dreamily. She had one of those cherry fizzes that came with an umbrella in it, and was twirling the paper decoration in her fingers in a rather mesmerizing manner.

Madame Rosmerta came over then, and asked, "Butterbeers all around, dears?"

A chorus of agreement met her question, and she hurried off to get the bottles. Ron and Eloise came in and caught her on her way over to the bar, adding their orders to the group. "How'd shopping go?" asked Eloise cheerfully as they sat down. Ron just looked flushed and vaguely defensive, which made Harry wonder if they'd been up to something more interesting than ice cream.

The rest of the afternoon flew by in talk of the kind all friends at Hogwarts seemed to have. They had an amazingly good-natured argument about next Saturday's Quidditch match, the last of the year, with Draco and Harry watching on with bemusement as both of their track records were called into question. They talked about homework and NEWTs and the unfairness of testing and teachers. They even gossiped a bit, although no one was foolish enough to question the nature of Draco and Harry's new friendship.

All in all, it was a lovely afternoon, and by the time they all wandered into dinner, chattering happily, they'd actually forgotten they'd be expected to sit at different tables. When they stopped in the doorway, Luna simply moved to end of the Ravenclaw table, saying, "Hurry up or there won't be any left."

They all shrugged, and joined her.

---

Harry and Draco escaped from dinner to find all of the packages from Gladrags piled on Draco's bed, with an unfamiliar house elf trying desperately to keep them from toppling. "Oh thank goodness, sirs are here!" said the elf, eyes wider than normal.

"Um, why did my clothes come to your room?" said Harry, bewildered.

"They came as one delivery, and we did not know whose was whose, so since Master Potter has been spending so much time with Master Malfoy, we put them here for sorting. Do we need punishing?" His eyes grew wider, and Harry took a moment to wonder if he was referring to all the house elves, or just himself.

"No, that's fine, but can the rest of the clothes be put away in my room, once they're sorted?" asked Harry gently.

"Puddy and Winky will take good care of Master Potter's clothing," said the elf, evidently named Puddy. Once they got some of the boxes down off the pile, they saw Winky was curled up in the corner behind the pile, her dress in utter disarray.

They made fairly short work of the pile, Harry breathing a sigh of relief when he was the one to find Draco's present. He set it carefully aside, and continued piling boxes near the door for Puddy and Winky to take away. He also set aside the red and gold outfit, including a set of the appropriate underclothing that had somehow made it into his purchase, and of course the boots.

They managed to account for everything, Draco explaining that they considered it part of their service to provide the appropriate accessories for any outfit. Puddy put Draco's purchases away and then vanished with Winky and all the rest of the boxes in tow. Draco spied the small remaining pile behind Harry. "Awfully presumptuous of you, Harry, keeping behind a change of clothes."

He was smiling as he spoke, so Harry just shrugged and grinned. "Better safe than naked."

Draco laughed, and Harry rummaged carefully through his parcels. He turned back around with the box held out in front of him, two of the chocolate fairies floating above it, raining sugar crystals down onto the lid with each flap of their chocolate wings. Draco looked vaguely stunned and said, "Er, what's this?"

"Happy belated birthday, Draco," said Harry with an impish grin.

"You..." Draco looked far more surprised than one birthday present really warranted. He swallowed, then held a hand out. One of the fairies flew obediently to his hand, while the other floated up to plant a little chocolate-smear kiss on his cheek. "What..."

"They're the cinnamon spice ones, which I figured you'd like, but you'll have to open your present in order to properly thank me for it."

Draco opened his mouth wide, and the fairy on his hand flew inside, landing on his tongue and waving to Harry as it began to melt. The other one hovered by his cheek, looking on expectantly. He chewed and swallowed, then took the box from Harry with trembling hands. He opened it, dropping the lid to the ground and brushing aside the soft tissue paper to reveal the soft green velvet of the robe, folded to show the first few silver-edged cutouts.

Draco smiled. "You actually bought it." He opened his mouth wide, and the other fairy flew to its fate.

"How could I not? It showed off your... assets... perfectly." Harry was grinning widely now, but he couldn't help it. Draco shook the robe out, letting it fall to the ground. "Besides, with the pants on, it actually looks quite good and is socially acceptable."

"I just can't believe you bought me something in Slytherin colours," he said, smirking. He hung the robe up in his wardrobe with a care that belied his casual words. He stayed like that for a moment, back to Harry, then said softly, "You know, I think this is the only birthday present I got this year."

"What about Crabbe and Pansy and the other Slytherins?" asked Harry, stepping close and putting a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"I... well, in previous years I've either demanded presents, or waved them away because my father provided me with all I could possibly want," he said softly, leaning into Harry's touch. Harry obliged him by wrapping his arms around Draco and holding him from behind, supporting him. "This year, I just... I didn't have the heart to demand, and so they assumed..."

"It's all right, Draco," said Harry. "I know you love your father in your own way." Draco turned in Harry's embrace and stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "No use pretending," said Harry, rubbing his cheek against Draco's suspiciously damp one. "I saw the way you looked at him those few times you were together."

Draco laughed bitterly, closing his eyes against the pain. "I suppose I do in my own way, despite everything."

"There's no shame in that." Harry pulled Draco close, cradling the taller boy as best he could. Draco let himself be held, the tension slowly easing from his frame.

"Well, we might as well get dressed for bed," he said, pulling away after long minutes of silence. "It's no use pretending you're not going to stay, after all."

Harry smiled and released him. "Right. Er, I don't suppose..."

"Yes, you can borrow pyjamas. Sheesh." Draco closed the wardrobe with one last caress to the velvet sleeve of his new robe, then dug through the dresser until he produced two sets of pyjamas, one in silvery grey silk and one in green. He tossed Harry the green pair. "Matches your eyes."

"Er, thanks," said Harry. At least they didn't have snakes. Harry had turned around politely while he changed, unwilling to break their fragile closeness with a crass display of lust. When he turned back, Draco was dressed and snuggled under the covers, eyes still suspiciously bright.

"Well, come on, get in," said Draco, holding the covers up. "And bring more chocolate. It's not a proper stay-over without chocolate."

Harry laughed and got in, bringing his entire Honeydukes stash. They spent hours talking, snacking and just getting to know one another on a level that Harry hadn't known he craved. He, Ron and Hermione knew each other like this, but through mutual experience, not this casual sharing. They talked about a hundred trivial things, and when they got sleepy, Draco actually snuggled into his arms on purpose.

"Might as well," he said, twining silk-clad legs with Harry's, "if we're going to end up this way anyway."

Harry rested his cheek on top of Draco's head and drifted off to the soft sounds of his breathing.