A Dark Time For The Light

45

Hermione finally collapsed into her bed as her lover was rising, spent from writing and tears. As Ginny ate her porridge, she read the latest entry to the cadre’s webjournal, rose to the surface and promptly called in sick. No way was she leaving her own that day. She had just been told of another brother’s demise. She went back to bed with her tired Missy and they spent the day with kisses and tears.

Harry and Draco spent a similar day and Harry was mighty glad of Joe giving him the Tuesday too. They took care of each other, even while each was aware of the distress being caused around the nation by their posting. The fragments of banners they carefully mounted and pinned to the wall above their living room mantel. The fragments of the Gryffindor and Slytherin common room tapestries, they hung in their bedroom along with Dumbledore’s speech. Fawkes’ feather was in a flat box under Harry’s pillow.

They kept both of their phones off during the Monday and Tuesday. By Tuesday teatime the reactions were coming back thick and fast to the website. Various expressions of loss and sadness. Some to the loss of friends and loved ones, some to the parlous state of their once magnificent school, some to the loss of Magic in their lives. But there were one or two. “The phoenix feather. Nice one, Harry”.

The next day, the Magicals were a little distant at work. Harry had to frequently rub at his eyes and it wasn’t the paint fumes. Joe called him into his office and Harry told as much of the truth as he could. Learning that 324 of your own kind had perished was definitely cause for grief and Joe dispatched Harry, Dean and Seamus until next week, gently instructing them to grieve, cry it all out. Wet-eyed, they left. Both Dean and Seamus had lost someone that week, having hoped that they were in hiding. Cellan, Steffie and Alan watched the three leave, they had all seen the latest tale and knew that the Magical Community hurt right now.

Harry slumped on the bottom step as he came through the front door. Draco pattered down and sat beside him. “Joe sent us three home for the rest of the week”, he turned and wept again in his lover’s arms, “I can’t believe Fred’s dead. It’s doing my head in. I know George was injured. Oh fuck”. Draco stroked Harry’s hair. “I imagine it’s how Greg is managing without Vinnie. They weren’t twins but they might as well have been. They were loyal to me, but they were friends to each other. In the way that you and Ron are friends”, Draco sighed.

They sat quietly, then Draco helped his love up the stairs into their home, bestowing love and kisses. He laid Harry down and efficiently undressed him without a hint of eroticism although Draco experienced a pang as he viewed a knackered and near-sleep Harry naked before tucking him in, then held him as he variously shook, wept then slept in Draco’s arms.

The Underground was quiet all that week. Ginny broke down at work and Josie as her mentor got her sent home again. Ginny apologising but Josie stepping in feistily before their boss, “Come on Robin, how often do you learn your older brother has been dead nearly two fuckin’ years?. Cut the girl some slack. Company policy allows for grief. Send her home ‘til Monday”. Ginny was released.

Hermione called the boys later that afternoon, “Can we come and get totally blasted round yours tonight, only, I, for one, feel the need to get totally shit-faced”. Draco shrugged when Harry asked him, “Why not?. I think a sorrows-drowning session is well in order”, and Harry invited the crew round after dinner.

The doorbell rang and Draco admitted Dean, Seamus, Terry, Colin and the girls. Ginny had imparted the news to Ron the night before and was still red-eyed and teary from her break-down at work. Harry hugged her, “Our boss sent us home too. He’s one of your demi-magiques”. Ginny managed a small smile.

Over the first few beers there were tears, then as the weed hit, there were funny stories and laughs, in fact a proper wake. The Bunker crew had bought a bag of munchies on the way, which were devoured as they all sat about. Harry put some music on in the background, something cheerful and they finally released their lost ones, then toasted them, each saying the names of the folk they knew, with raised cans and hands over hearts. It comforted Draco when Harry pointed out that Vincent had been buried with the denizens of the Light, not cast into the Dark’s gravepit.

Draco had been missing a while when Harry found him in the kitchen, crying quietly, his head on his arms on the table. He was beside him in an instant, hooking Draco’s legs over his own as Draco fumbled for him and held him, sobbing on his shoulder. Harry rocked them both, his hand stroking Draco’s back, the other in the platinum hair. The sobs turned to sniffles and Harry snagged a piece of kitchen towel to dry his lover’s face. Draco blew his nose and sat up a bit straighter, meeting Harry’s eyes, his somewhat red, “I love you, Harry, and I always will. Kiss me, baby”, and Harry obliged, eliciting little eager whimpers from both of them. They were aware of a presence in the kitchen with them, ignored it.

The fridge door opened and shut, footsteps heading away, then a pause, “You two are really hot”, a giggle. Ginny. They came out of the kiss to find her still watching them, her head tipped aside and a slight smirk on her lips, “You two should get married”, she said suddenly, apropos of nothing. Harry barked a laugh, “Behave, Gin, in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re both guys”. “Nope, wrong. As of the 19th or 20th of December this year, same-sex couples can marry, in this world, obviously, not the Wizarding world, and only in a registry office, not in a church. In fact”, and she lowered her voice conspiratorially, moving closer, “I intend to ask my Missy on her birthday in October. You guys need a computer in here, the Internet is a wonderful thing, but, erm, don’t say anything, to Hermione, I mean. I want it to be a surprise”, she popped her can and took a long swallow before lurching back into the lounge.

The boys processed this new information with fuzzy brains. Draco laughed, “Would you marry me if you could, Harry?”. Harry’s return gaze was dark green and solemn, “In a heartbeat, my Dragon. In a fucking heartbeat”. Draco’s eyes were round, his voice notched up half an octave, ”Seriously?!!”. Harry just nodded, gazing into his lover’s grey-blue eyes. The laughter evaporated and Draco’s mouth hung slightly open in shock. He disengaged from Harry, instructed him to “Wait there”, and vanished.

He went into the bathroom cabinet, grabbing the nail scissors, then into their bedroom and picked up his rucksack. He emptied the contents across the bed and turned the bag inside out. With the points of the scissors he unpicked the stitching of the lining of the bag and fished inside with long fingers. There it was. His grandmother’s ring. That he’d filched from the Manor. It was always meant to be his, as she’d told him countless times before she died. His father may have robbed his inheritance, but Draco had made sure of taking this before he left.

He rushed back into the kitchen. Dean and Hermione were sitting talking to Harry. Hermione looked up, “Hey, are you two okay?, only you disappeared on us”. Draco grinned, “Yes, thanks. Can I just keep Harry for another minute or two, then I promise we’ll stop being anti-social?”. They took the hint and went back into the living room.

Draco sank to his knees before a bemused Harry. “What the hell are you doing on the floor, Dragon”. Draco merely smiled, “Give me your left hand, love”. Harry wordlessly complied, his brow furrowing slightly. Draco slipped the ring from his balled fist onto Harry’s little finger, “It was my Grandma’s and therefore a bit small for the finger next to it, but will you marry me Harry?”.

Gobsmacked was too mild a term. “Are you serious?. Please don’t say that this is a joke of some kind”. Draco shook his head, the sweetest blush to his cheeks, his eyes never leaving Harry’s, “No, Harry. I mean it. Will you be mine forever?”.

Harry’s eyes closed. There was a jackhammer in his chest, that he realised dimly was his heart pounding. His eyes squinted open on the ring, a delicate band of gold with three sapphires and two diamonds winking at him. His heart threatened to explode. He gathered Draco to him beside him on the bench, then kissed the blond senseless, “Yes. Yesyesyesyesyes”, he murmured into damp blue-grey depths, bending Draco back over the kitchen table. When they could let their eyes go from each other, Harry fished two fresh beers from the fridge and the two hosts rejoined their guests.

They couldn’t keep their eyes or hands off each other. One following the other with his eyes as he left the room to replenish supplies or to evacuate excess. They felt raw and tender and it showed. Hermione eventually asked how the mood had changed from understandable hurt to a deep secret joy that glowed from the pair of them. Harry asked Ginny, wrapping his arms around his beloved, how true this gay marriage thing was. Ginny grinned, “Absolutely. I looked it up on a Muggle Government website. It’s kosher and completely real. End of this year. Why?”.

Harry got the attention of the room and announced, “Because Draco just asked me to marry him and I just accepted”.

There was a silence for a few breaths then an eruption of squeals and congratulations. Strictly speaking, it would make Draco a bigamist, but that would be in that world. This was this world. Although Harry intended to speak with Jephaniah as soon as he could. The biggest congratulations were from his enthusiastic wife. Draco held her, laughing into her eyes, “You minx. You must show me these websites. This is all your fault you know”. Ginny smiled down into her husband’s gaze. “Make him happy, Draco. Support him. You know it’s still Harry against him. And prophecies have a nasty habit of having to be fulfilled”. They shared a significant ‘look’, then parted.

The rest of the evening passed in a happy daze, everyone got roaring drunk, not to mention gloriously smashed. Some faster music on the stereo, more intense beats and people got up to dance, Harry and Draco pressed back to chest, grinding slow and sexily against each other. The girls were the next up, hands everywhere, mouths glued together. Then Seamus and his love, so recently re-united. Their kiss threatened to burn a hole in the floor. Dean sucked on another blunt and lay back on the cushions watching the dancers and the erotic shenanigans between them, he sighed. Colin, beside him, giggled. “Okay, who’s the hottest. I nominate Harry and Draco by a long chalk”. Dean let out a long breath, “Me too, even though I’m straight. There’s no straight couples to measure against. So, in the absence of, I nominate Draco and Harry. That fucking Slytherin blond is fucking gorgeous”, he let this slip out as he took a long drink of his can and a deep drag on the blunt between his fingers.

“Though I would love to watch the girls together”, he amended, grinning and slightly adjusting himself. “Care to dance?”, the blond Gryffindor appraised him coolly. Dean leaned up, his vision slightly cloudy. He regarded the long slender body, almost as tall as him, the curly blond hair, the wide smile, the slight bulge, growing as they regarded each other, then leaned in and kissed the boy, tentative at first, then confidence growing, he took the blond’s mouth with his own, needy, wanting. Colin arched into his kisses and Dean was stunned, desire rising in him like a geyser threatening to blow.

Dean stood, holding out a hand, “Dancin’?”. The blond grinned, “Y’askin?”, he grasped it. “I’m askin’, hauling him to his feet, “Then I’m dancin’”, the tall brunet moved into his arms and closed his eyes, drinking in the scent of the boy in his arms, his mind a complete mess. A tiny voice of sanity beneath the burgeoning feelings said, “What’s gay and straight, really. Love is where you get it. If love extends her hand, for even a short period, then take it”, he remembered Hermione’s words from their sixth year and held Colin close to him as they danced.

Harry tried to hide a giggle as he watched Dean and Colin, “Fuck, Dragon, Dean’s straight”. Draco leaned in for a kiss, “Not any more”, he dryly observed as their lips met then opened for each other’s tongue. Harry kept an eye on his dorm-mate watching him come undone beneath Colin’s ministrations and grinning. A few tracks later and the Bunker crew were ready to leave, all coupled up and ready for bed, but not to sleep. Harry let them all out, they all kissed on the mouth, including Dean. Harry held him tightest, “Enjoy him. I hear he’s a good lover”, murmured into Dean’s ear as they left.

Harry shut the front door and drew the curtain over the glass panels. His movements were honeyed slow, his limbs heavy now that his friends had left. Moments later as he sat on the steps, he felt Draco’s delicious arms around him and leaned into them grinning, no, smiling widely, delighting in Draco’s touches, then allowed his fiance to lead him to bed where what remained of his mind was truly and comprehensively blown.

As they drifted towards sleep, Harry asked, “Did you mean it, about us marrying, ‘cos I did?”. Draco grinned and kissed his Harry. “Harry, you wear my ring, a family heirloom, I might add. Of course I meant it, you berk”. Harry was in heaven as they slept, curled closely enough together as to resemble a single body.