AN: this chapter is the reason this fic is rated Explicit.

Harry woke up at 4 am, but it wasn't from nightmares. Something was tapping at his window.

Warily, he unlatched the lock and swung it open.

In flew an owl with more missing feathers than it had left, swinging this way and that, slamming into Harry's lamp (which he caught, barely!) and careening toward his desk but missing, landing in a heap on the floor.

The owl hopped to its feet, shaking itself off and holding out the letter expectantly.

"Errol?" he asked.

The owl dropped the letter, cooing softly.

"Ah, you sorry sod."

Harry tossed Errol a treat as he scooped the letter off the floor. The owl did not make the catch, bending over to peck at every spare bit of carpet looking for it.

Harry sighed.

The letter was addressed to him, only Grimmauld scribbled beneath his name, with no other identifying information. He supposed Errol wouldn't need it.

Harry tore the letter open, scanning over the unfamiliar handwriting. He'd expected Mr or Mrs Weasley, of course, but it wasn't.

Only give up if you want to

-George

Harry stared at the writing for a moment, uncomprehending.

Then he rushed through the house, banging on Ginny and Ron's doors.

"Wake up, wake up! We've got things to do."

Ron's door flew open a moment later and he appeared in his pants, wand in hand, turning his head frantically this way and that.

"What, what?! Is the bloody house on fire?"

"I got a letter."

"I'm going to fucking kill you."

Ginny's door opened then and she peeked out, eyes bloodshot. At least she hadn't been sleeping. That was a bear that, now that he thought about it, he didn't want to poke.

"It's from George. He says I don't have to give up the shop!"

Ginny stared blankly. "Why is he talking? Ron, make him stop talking. It's 4 am."

"I'm bloody trying here."

"Aren't either of you hearing me? The grand opening's back on!"

"When was it off?" Ron said.

"I have to start working immediately. I have to go to the shop and clear all the orange stuff, and start the product manufacturing, and convince Rita to run the announcement again,  and tell Draco not to call off the other inspector and—"

"His mouth is still moving," said Ginny, stifling a yawn.

"It's hurting my brain too bad. I can't figure out how to make it stop."

A light appeared at the end of the hallway, growing closer, and then Hermione joined them, standing in a pale blue nightgown, hair spilling freely in curls down her back.

"Mione, you're smart, make him shut up already."

"Please," Ginny agreed. "So tired."

"Growing woozy," Ron continued. "Might not make it much longer. Send a message to mum for me when I'm sent away to Azkaban, telling her I did what I had to do."

"I'll fight for you. I'll say you had good reason."

"What's happening, exactly?" Hermione asked. She must have still been on Australia time because, despite her wardrobe choices, she appeared wide awake.

He held out the letter to her. "Read for yourself."

She took it, befuddled look growing. "But all the other problems..."

"Are you kidding me? That letter might as well be begging me not to quit. We can figure the rest out. For him."

Ginny leaned against the doorframe, forehead pressed against her hand to keep her eyes open.

"And Fred," she said quietly.

"And Fred," he agreed.

"Can it start after the sun has risen?" Ron asked, but his tone had lost all the exasperation of before.

Harry laughed. "For you? Yeah. But I've got stuff to do. I'll see you."

He jogged off down the hallway, chuckling at the stuttered, "Er, ahems," behind him of Ron and Hermione as they finally took in each other's states of undress.

He made it to the floo a moment later, throwing in a handful of power and calling the address he remembered Draco saying the last time he'd been at Grimmauld.

"Hello? Draco, are you there?"

It was nearly a minute before the sitting room was tipped into light, Draco entering holding a candle, a dressing gown flowing out softly behind him.

"Potter? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Draco sat cross-legged on the floor some distance away. "You'd better have a damned good reason for waking me up."

"Can I come through?"

Draco blinked at him for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.

Harry pulled back and grabbed another handful of powder. A moment later, he was stepping into Draco's sitting room, and Draco was standing to greet him.

"I got a letter from George."

"Not what I was expecting you to say."

"He says I'm allowed to try keeping the shop open if I want."

Draco's lips quirked up at the corner. Harry's body was flooded with the memory of what it was like to kiss him. "And you want?"

"I do. Is that all right?"

"Very. Of course, it's more work than you have any right to make me do, but—"

"But you'll help me?"

"I'm unfortunately very fond of you."

His heart stuttered. "I'm unfortunately very fond of you too. I mean, er—"

Draco snorted.

"Well, you're the one who said it."

But Draco was smiling at him, so Harry was smiling back, too giddy to regret anything.

"So I did," Draco agreed.

"You haven't called off the other inspector yet, have you?"

"I was holding out hope you'd change your mind. Silly me."

Harry stepped closer, laughing, wrapping his hands around Draco's face, cupping the sides.

He leaned their foreheads together, breathing in.

Broomstick handle, treacle tart.... honeysuckle.

"I think," he said, capturing Draco's lips in a brief kiss, "we should make an amortentia scratch and sniff."

"You're mad. That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"You smell so good."

"Apology accepted. Kiss me more?"

Harry leaned in, grinning against his lips, pecking a kiss once, twice, thrice.

"Stop being a bloody tease."

"I really, really like you."

"I— Circe, can't you say something normal for once?" He grabbed Harry's arse, pulling their hips flush against each other. "You're a nuisance."

"Work at Wheezes with me."

"What?"

Harry laughed, sliding his hands down Draco's chest, fumbling for the tie of his dressing gown. "You need a job, remember?"

"Of course, I remember, but—" Draco groaned as Harry's hands made their way past the opening of his gown, smoothing his sides, then downward to take his cock into hand, pumping it. "If we're to be co-workers then this is highly unprofessional."

"You want me to stop?"

"Merlin, no."

"Take it up with Human Resources."

Harry pressed a kiss to his neck, tracing the scars he'd so badly wanted to touch before, and then he fell to his knees, hands coming to rest on Draco's hips as he drew in a shocked, heated breath.

Harry brushed his lips over the head of his cock, just barely taking it into his mouth before pulling away.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured.

"If you expect me to carry on an intelligent conversation while you— hnngh!" Draco made a strangled sound as Harry wrapped his lips around him, twisting his hands in Harry's hair and fighting to remain still.

Harry was not experienced at this, but the onslaught of sensations would have been overwhelming for anyone, he was sure of it. He bobbed forward and suddenly his mouth was too full—smooth, slick skin nearly choking him—but he didn't care. His entire body lit up with energy, his heart pounding a steady rhythm of Draco, Draco, Draco.

Harry took him further into his throat and Draco moaned, cut off as he bit into his own fist, and gave a half-thrust.

Harry coughed and pulled back, his eyes watering, needing a moment to catch his breath.

"You all right?"

He nodded.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

"As long as we get to finish this first." His voice came out strange, croaky.

Draco hauled him to his feet, manhandling him across the room until they reached the wall and kissing him against it.

Draco's hands were pushing off his clothes, running all over him, and Harry couldn't take one more second of it if he didn't want to come just then.

"Bed, now," Harry mumbled between kisses.

"Too far."

He groaned in agreement, but still pushed Draco away, meeting his eyes. They were heated, locked on him. Harry shivered, feeling his magic stir.

Not now, thank you kindly.

He took Draco's hand, kissing it, turning it over and pressing his lips to Draco's skin, right above the dark mark.

Draco inhaled sharply. "What...?"

"It's always gonna be there, right? Like you said. I'd better make my peace with it now." Then he tugged at his arm. "Bed."

Draco's room was cool and dark as they stumbled in. His shades were drawn, blocking out even the faintest hint of light.

Harry could feel him pulling them toward the bed, and then he was tumbling over on top of him.

Draco's limbs stretched out underneath his, warm and strong, his cock twitching against Harry's thigh.

Harry huffed out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, feeling for Draco's face and kissing him once more.

"Why the hell is it so dark in here?" he mumbled.

"Helps me sleep. Now shut up and cast the bloody spells so you can get inside me."

Harry did, casting easily and then tossing his wand somewhere off to the right, patting around on his left until he felt a bedside table and leaving his glasses there. Then he let Draco roll them over, and felt the bed shift as he straddled him.

Harry ran his hands up Draco's hips, sticky with perspiration, then down his legs, feeling the smooth skin of his thighs.

"You ready?" Draco asked.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

Draco took him into hand, rising up and pressing the tip of Harry's length against his entrance, and then gasping out a sharp, throaty exhale that might have been his name as he finally sunk down.

Harry tried to catch his breath, knowing that if he didn't have a minute to recover, this would be over in an instant.

When he couldn't possibly wait any longer, he said, "Move."

And Draco did, rising up the barest inch before sinking back down. Harry hissed, grabbing at his hips and thrusting up involuntarily.

"Yeah?" Draco asked.

"Yeah."

Draco laughed, and if Harry had to trade all the gold in his Gringotts' vault just to hear that sound again, he would. He wouldn't think twice about it.

His legs strained as he rose to meet Draco again and again, grinding into him, so tight he almost lost himself. This couldn't possibly last as long as he needed it to.

Harry pulled Draco down for a kiss, his movements slowing as he responded, kissing Harry
languorously, only the occasional jerk of his hips showing any sign of desperation.

Then he broke away, trailing his lips down Harry's neck and back up to flick his tongue out just below his ear. Harry gasped, squeezing at Draco's arse as he sat back up. He resumed the slow, dirty rolling of his hips, and Harry heard him begin jerking his own cock.

"Are you touching yourself?"

Draco let out a heady whimper.

"Keep going just like that. I want you to come all over me."

"Fuck."

"Faster," Harry groaned, and Draco complied, gaining speed until he was bouncing up and down, his breathing turning into shuddering heaves.

Harry drove his hips up to meet him, arching his back, saying, "Fuck, harder," as he felt Draco's arse clench around him.

He knew he was about to come, he could barely hold on, but he didn't want to yet, didn't want it to be over. He cursed the dark, keeping him from seeing Draco's face as he let out an intoxicating moan.

"Oh, god," Harry said. "I'm close. I'm gonna—"

"Come on," Draco panted, "come in me."

And Harry slammed his hips up into him as Draco groaned, hot come splashing across Harry's chest, his arse squeezing him, and for just a moment there was light, silhouetting around Draco like a halo, his mouth hanging open, his eyes closed, and then Harry was coming, shooting into him, his world narrowing to just the feel of his cock in Draco's arse and the whispers, "Please, please, please, Harry!" above him.

He did not stop thrusting his hips, overwhelmed by sensation as Draco contracted around him, pulling him down as far as he could as he shook and juddered with the force of his orgasm.

"Fuck," Harry cried one last time.

And then it was over, Draco collapsing on top of him.

They laid there for several minutes recovering their breath before Harry remembered the reason he'd come over in the first place.

"I have to go," he said reluctantly. "I have to get started on work for the shop."

Draco huffed, but it sounded fond. "The shop can wait. You're not leaving until we do that again. Several more times."

"Yeah?"

"A hundred, at least."

Harry grinned into his neck. "I can work with that. Might need a bit of recovery time between them, though. Think I could deal with Wheezes during that?"

Draco sighed. "I suppose. Stay another minute, though."

He did.