Chapter 24

The morning light filtered through the windows of the royal suite. It caused Harry to stir. His arm was draped possessively over Severus's waist with fingers idly tracing the curve of his husband's hip. Severus's breath was steady, and neither seemed inclined to break the spell of stillness.

"I want to stay in bed," Harry murmured, already knowing that the Potion master was a light sleeper. His voice was muffled against Severus's shoulder.

Severus's lips curved faintly. "Why not?"

Harry sighed as the weight of reality crept in. "Because I've got an on-site meeting with Hermione. We're going over the slum revitalization project. And Draco's probably outside pacing like a madman, itching to go through my closet again." He groaned while trying to bury himself deeper in the pillow. "I shouldn't have told him Madam Malkin delivered the next season's order of clothes."

Severus gave a low chuckle. Then he reached across the nightstand, and his fingers brushed the spine of the book Harry had tried to hide the night before. He picked it up and flipped it open, idly leafing through the pages. He stopped at several ones his husband had earmarked. Harry's blush deepened as Severus's thumb lingered on a sketch of the reverse cowgirl, which was rendered in vivid detail. The Potion master, of course, noticed.

Harry buried his face against Severus's chest. "Merlin, help me."

Severus's dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he took the book and rose from the bed. He watched Harry ogle as the blanket fell down. "We can try it," he said coyly. "When you return from your royal tasks."

Harry groaned and flopped back against the pillows with dramatic despair. "That's cruel. You know I've got a long day ahead."

Severus just smirked as he picked up his boxers from the floor. "Cruel? No. Motivating, yes. Consider it... incentive."

"Hermione's going to kill me if I can't concentrate!" Harry actually whined. "You have no idea how scary she can be."

"I have every idea. I taught her, remember?" Severus stated. "Ask her to tell you about the time she punched Draco and broke his nose during the Yule ball."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!"

Severus gave a low chuckle, clearly savoring Harry's reaction. "Draco was being... himself. According to Minerva, he made some remark about her dress being 'better suited for a house‑elf than a witch of standing.' She didn't hesitate. One clean strike. Dropped him flat on the marble floor. Blood everywhere."

"You just... let it happen?"

"I hardly let it happen," Severus replied, "I was across the hall when the commotion began. By the time I reached them, Draco was already bleeding. I deemed it... educational and left it at that."

"Wasn't Lucius pissed?" Harry questioned. "He's like the equivalent of a PTA MOM that would rig a Girl Scout cookie sale!"

"Have you met Cissy?" Severus deadpanned. "The moment she heard what Draco said, Lucius had no grounds to object."

"You know what, I am not opening that can of worms any further."

At that exact moment, the door to the suite burst open. Draco Malfoy barged in with his perfect hair and immaculate appearance despite the obvious impatience radiating off him. He clutched a stack of legal documents, which he promptly thrust into Harry's arms without preamble.

"Sign these," Draco ordered briskly, already striding toward the closet. "And don't argue, Potter. You'll thank me later."

Harry blinked at the stack now weighing down his lap. "Draco... just what the hell am I signing?"

But the blond was already halfway across the room, calling over his shoulder, "Good morning, Godfather," with a casual wave before disappearing into the closet.

"Draco what am I signing?!"

"It's the last draft of the trade agreement with the German Ministry, Potter! Honestly, do you think I'd hand you random parchment for fun?"

Harry blinked down at the stack in his arms, flipping through the dense legal text. "You mean to tell me you barged in here, shoved this at me, and didn't even explain until I yelled?"

Draco reappeared briefly, "I stayed up all night drafting it, thank you very much. Do you know how many clauses the Germans insisted on? Do you know how many times I had to reword the section on flora import tariffs so they wouldn't throw a fit? I practically bled ink for this kingdom."

"And yet you still found time to fuss over Harry's wardrobe." Severus arched a brow, impressed.

"I can't have him walking into meetings looking like a ragged Gryffindor who lost a fight with a laundry basket." Draco retorted.

"I was a Slytherin!" Harry uttered, but both men ignored him.

"Over the years that I have known Potter, it has become clear that he does not know Anderson-Blue from Duck-Egg-Blue. Mother nearly had a coronary when he told her that two dresses were just green. Presentation is everything." Then the blond smirked. "Besides Uncle Sev. You shouldn't be judging. Bet you were ogling Potter's behind in those trousers I picked."

Harry crawled his signature across the bottom of the parchments and then handed the stack back to Draco. "Now you wear this," the blonde handed Harry a set of black robes, silk shirt, and tailored trousers, all with silver trim. "You'll thank me when Hermione doesn't glare at you for being late to your meeting... which, by the way, should be in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?! Oh, fuck." Harry's eyes widened as he scrambled out of bed, tugging on the silk shirt and trousers in a rush.

Severus watched the entire spectacle with quiet amusement. His lips twitched as Harry hopped on one foot to pull his trousers up. With a flick of his wand, Severus summoned his own shirt and trousers from where they had been discarded the night before. He dressed with far more composure.

"I'll be in the lab today," Severus said smoothly while adjusting his collar. "Neville has promised to bring by a rare ingredient he's been cultivating in the greenhouses. I intend to see if it lives up to his claims."

Harry nodded quickly as he tugged the silver-trimmed robes into place. He gave Severus a brief, distracted peck on the cheek before bolting for the door. "Luv you!" he blurted, already halfway into his boots.

The words hung in the air long after Harry had vanished down the corridor. Severus stood frozen, and his hand instinctively rose to touch the spot where Harry's lips had brushed his skin. His composure faltered for the briefest moment, and to his own surprise, a faint blush crept across his cheeks.

Harry clearly hadn't thought before speaking. This confession had been raw, unguarded, and utterly sincere. As Severus stood there in silence, the corners of his mouth twitched.

In the Upper realm, Mortem was sprawled across the roof of a marble pavilion with binoculars pressed gleefully to his face. He had been banned from smut for a century, but apparently that didn't stop him from watching one of the viewing pool his sisters had gathered around.

"HA!" Mortem shouted in glee, nearly toppling from his perch. "Did you hear that? He said luv you! Oh, this is delicious!"

A roof tile slipped loose and shattered on the ground below. The crash drew immediate attention. Fate appeared at the edge of the pavilion. "Mortem! You were barred from your Snarry for a century, and yet here you are, ogling mortals with binoculars like some lovesick voyeur!"

Mortem sat up indignantly, while clutching his binoculars to his chest. "I wasn't ogling! I was... observing. And I have news on Oberon, thank you very much. I just got distracted."

Damara, meanwhile, folded her arms and arched a brow. "Yes, distracted... with binoculars? Really, Mortem?"