A Dark Time For The Light

33

They drowsed lazily in each other’s arms until Harry snapped to and sat up suddenly, lunging for the small clock on the bedside table and squinting at it in the low light. “Bollocks!. I didn’t set the bloody clock. I’m late”. He dived out of bed and into the bathroom, cursing. Draco got up and tied his gown around him. He unpacked Harry’s bag and went into the kitchen. He set the coffee-maker, washed out Harry’s flask and made him up some sandwiches, then re-packed his bag just in time for Harry to come looking for it. Draco handed it to him, “Fresh coffee and ham and tomato sandwiches, M’sieur”. Harry slung it on his back, “Thanks, D. I must rush. See you tonight. Don’t worry about food, we’ll order in”, he turned to go downstairs. Draco called him back, “Oi!!”, he tapped a cheek with a fingertip, lifting his chin slightly. Harry grinned and approached, sliding his arms around his lover’s waist and kissed him, short and hot, somebody moaned. They drew apart, mesmerised.

Draco broke it, “Thought you were late”, he leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Go on, shoo. Get to work!”, he turned a reluctant Harry round. Harry whinged, “Wish I didn’t have to go”, as he pretended to resist. They kissed at the top of the stairs, then Harry descended, his phone already out. As the front door locked, Draco could hear, “Cel, I’m on my way. Hang on for me if I’m not there......”, his voice faded down the street.

Leaning against the wall as the front door locked, Draco realised, he’d never actually spent a day in this flat on his own. As for ordering food in, bugger that, he was going to cook something. As to that, he had no idea, having never actually cooked before. In the Bunker, he had mainly done laundry detail or cleaning, occasionally being asked to help with the food, stirring the stew or turning the bacon or peeling spuds, but never actually prepared and cooked anything. He shrugged, it looked like Potions making to him, shouldn’t be too difficult. He knew that Muggles had books with recipes in. He grinned. That was his project for today. Cook tonight’s dinner. First, he had a cup of tea and assessed the tools they already had in the kitchen, a reasonable selection of basics, he assumed. He made a quick mental list.

He contemplated going back to sleep for a while but felt energised by his self-appointed task. He’d just turned the shower on, when his phone rang. Harry.

“D. How d’you fancy a house-warming party tomorrow night?. It’s about time we had some folks round. We don’t need to bother with food, just crisps and Bombay mix and stuff. We’ll have a walk over to the Bunker tonight and invite some folk and I’d like to ask a couple from work, Cellan and Steffie, if that’s all right?. Whaddya think?”

Draco was dazed a moment, then, “Okay. Why not? I know Caroline’s back in London tonight. Can I invite her, and maybe Marcus and his girlfriend Bronwen if they’re about?”.

“ ‘Course you can. The more the merrier, and you don’t have to ask. You’re more ‘out’ to your colleagues than I am to mine”, this last, murmured very low below the sound of the engine.

Harry waited until lunchtime and was sitting in the grass with Cellan, Steffie, Alan, Dean and Seamus then invited them all including significant others. Four accepted immediately and Cellan promised to get back to him after consulting his missus.

Draco, meanwhile, was having a ball out shopping in the vasts of London by himself. He felt delightfully anonymous weaving through the shoppers. First stop, a large bookshop. He was rather like Hermione in this regard. Problem?. There’s probably a book out there to help solve it!

He spent a happy couple of hours searching out cookbooks and plumped for a large tome on basics, that gave clear step-by-step instructions plus a few trickier things to try, and a culinary encyclopaedia, then got totally lost in the fiction section. He had a heavy knapsack as he left, but a lighter wallet.

He stopped for some lunch and made a list of cookware and ingredients as he ate. The food was delicious. He hadn’t realised what ‘vegetarian’ meant until he’d read the menu, but his concoction of roasted goat’s cheese, walnuts and cranberries on toasted bruschetta was splendid.

He set out again on the hunt and in a couple of hours wandering had everything he needed. Loaded down, he made his way back to the flat after a couple of detours to interesting looking bookshops. He unpacked and laid out his ingredients. He glanced at the time. He didn’t need to start cooking for a couple of hours yet, so he grabbed a beer and went into the lounge. After sinking the can rather fast, he toed of his shoes and lay on the couch.

The sound of the roller shutters on the shop window below being closed brought him round and he peered fuzzily at the clock taking a moment to decipher the 24 hour clock, “Why not stick with am and pm?”, he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. 5:30, perfect. Harry was due home in roughly two hours. Draco washed his hands and face then set to work.

He started simply with a beef stew and suet dumplings which were now browning on top in the oven. Then made ice cream with the splendid mixer that stood in the corner of the countertop, poured it into a shallow bowl and placed it in the freezer and set the timer on the cooker, it needed re-stirring when half-set.

Then pulled a clean saucepan down, filled it a third full and placed it on a high light until it boiled, then turned the light down, grabbed a metal bowl, a pair of tongs to hold it in an oven gloved hand and held it in the boiling water until the bowl heated and proceeded to make chocolate and toffee mallow sauce.

(A/N Sounds complicated? – melt two Mars bars in a bain-marie. Add cream if desired. Serve hot. Wicked!!).

Draco was warming bowls and laying the kitchen table as a rattle at the door told him Harry was home, “I’m in here”, he called. Harry put his head round the door, grinning, “Now there’s a memory to savour, Draco Malfoy in a pinny slaving over a hot stove”, he ducked out as Draco threw the oven glove at him. Harry stood on the landing and shed his overalls. “How long ‘til dinner?”. “About twenty five minutes or so”. Harry’s voice purred as his head appeared round the door again, “Mmm. Have we got time for a shower, then?”. Draco looked up from the oven and grinned, “Get started and I’ll join you”.

After a meal that was declared ‘brilliant’ by Harry. They sat back, stuffed. Draco had made far too much, a common enough mistake for a novice. When they could walk, they washed up and both headed out for the Bunker.

Kingsley let them in. They chatted with him for a while. “There have been a few new ones the last week or two, four people in the last three days. It’s getting a bit cramped in here”.

They went into the canteen, the buzz of voices louder than before. They spotted new faces, but none were familiar and wended their way to ‘their’ table, filled with relative strangers. “Harry”, a voice from behind him, he turned. Tonks. “If you’re looking for your lot, they’re all in your old room, plottin’ and schemin’”. Harry shrugged, thanked her and they made for the corridor, tapping on the door of the end room.

“Who is it”. Ginny. “It’s me and Draco, Gin”. The voice went up a notch, “Oh, Harry, come on in, it’s not locked”. The boys entered. Sitting in a litter of cans were Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Colin, Severus and Remus. The air was thick with weed smoke. The visitors grinned at each other as Draco closed the door.

They joined the circle on a large rug that was new to the room, the stacked up furniture was now gone. Hermione had picked a lock on an old door that led to a rather damp storage space. All the extraneous furniture had been stacked in there. The room seemed much bigger now. A few bright travel posters adorned the walls showing expanses of blue sky, hanging at regular intervals along the walls as if they were windows. Dean moved round and whispered something to Harry, pressed a small package in Harry’s hand, money was exchanged, “It’s Steffie at work, you know, where this comes from”. Harry smiled, “Really?”, in just as low a tone. He’d have a word with her at the party. Speaking of which...

He invited them, to a chorus of ‘Yes’es. Then Hermione remarked, “Draco, you’re not usually back by now on a Friday. Finished early this week?”. He told them all; what was going on right at this moment in the country house he was working at. “So, they’ve sent me home for a trumped-up emergency. Sorry, Harry, you were it, I’m afraid. I can’t go back until Jace sends me the all clear. I told her to keep a look-out for Mother and Lucius”. Several winced at the use of his Father’s given name and the short tone.

The room fell silent at this and Harry took Draco’s hand in his, “Come on, Draco. Think on, not all Muggles are useless or unsympathetic to our plight. I’d have a hard time trying to explain it to my foreman, Joe, that’s for sure”. Dean and Seamus laughed. Joe was a good bloke and fair with his workers so long as he got a good day out of you, but missing work on the strength of a weird cloud, no, no, no.

Hermione pulled herself up short, “I’m forgetting my manners, Do either of you want a beer?”, she passed them over. Harry borrowed papers and skinned up. “So, this party, is there food?”, from Seamus. “Nah, just nibbles. Eat first”, Harry replied. “It’s bring a bottle, but we’ll get some supplies in as well”.

They left the Bunker a bit wobbly and very giggly, kissing in every pool of darkness. As they attained civilisation once more, they blended easily with the equally wobbly Friday night after-the-pub crowd. They ran the last hundred yards to the flat, joshing and pushing to be first with the key, then the first through the door and up the stairs, They left the light off on the landing, finding each other by the weak orange of the nearest streetlight, arms around each other, tongue finding tongue, the pace slow, hands gentle in hair, lips on neck, knowing each other so well, tonight fresh and new due to the heady effects of the strongest weed either of them had had plus alcohol to uninhibit the senses.

Harry whispered, “We need music. Let’s go into the lounge”. Draco allowed himself to be led by the hand and lay on the sofa while Harry worked the boxes in the near dark, small green lights appearing, then music through the small black boxes mounted around the room, a deeper sound from somewhere, the music not quite classical, very nice, thought Draco as he slid full length on the settee, then Harry pushing him up and lying down beside him, both crushed together and laughing softly, struggling to remove clothes, then Harry rolled off the sofa onto the rug and pulled Draco with him, yelping.

“That’s better, more room”, then kissed Draco now lying beneath him, the orange light making his eyes dark. They undressed each other slowly, touching and kissing, sometimes tickling and poking in the ribs, Draco slapping Harry’s arse to make him stop, then alternating between hard and grunting, then soft, gentle, then playful and silly, they made love far into the night, finally sleeping as dawn rose.