Lima city was a busy, bustling shock after the tranquillity of the lodge in the middle of nowhere Harry and Draco had spent the past week in. Even if they had been out most evenings to several close-by towns, they had been more like villages, rural and charming. Harry had quite forgotten the towering white sky-scrapers and tarmacked roads filled with fast moving cars. As they stood on the spot where they had just apparated back, Harry tried not to be intimidated by the pace of the capital, reminding himself they were just about to travel back to London after all.

"It's a bit noisy compared to the jungle," Draco commented with a raised eyebrow, and Harry assured both of them by giving his back a quick rub. It wasn't like they had been in total silence; the wildlife had been extremely present the whole time, and Harry in particular had delighted in chatting to several different snakes over the past few days, much to Draco's astonishment and awe. But the lack of people had lulled them into a bit of a bubble, and Harry was feeling like he wanted to keep it that way a little longer.

But that wasn't to be the case, and he sighed in resignation. "Come on," he said cheerily, steering them towards the small international Floo hub they had travelled through only a week previously. "Just a few moments and we'll be back in the UK."

The yellow building with the white trim stood innocuously between a bank and a shop selling sandals, the national flag atop a pole on the pavement, waving happily in the light breeze. The boys dragged their suitcases behind them as they crossed the street and headed up the stairs into the open foyer, a ceiling fan attempting to dissipate some of the heat hanging thick in the air.

"Buenos dias!" the young woman behind the desk chimed, her affected air making it quite clear that she did so a hundred times a day. "Tourist Information, how can I help?"

"Hi," Harry said confidently, pulling out their permits. "Two for international Floo, scheduled at ten o'clock?"

"Of course Mr..." The woman's eyes lit up and her gaze inevitably darted from the parchment to Harry's forehead. "Mr Potter!" she cried. "What an honour, I am so happy to meet you!"

Harry scuffed his foot awkwardly and glanced apologetically at Draco, who merely smiled fondly at him. "Erm, yes, that's me," he said evenly. "And my friend?"

The woman, dressed in a Muggle suit of the same kind of yellow as the outside of the building, blinked and checked their papers again. "Oh yes, and a friend. How nice for you, to be the friend of Harry Potter."

Harry was certain she meant it as a compliment, but as they were lead through a door and down a corridor to where the Floo Mantelpiece was hidden away, he felt small and stupid. "Sorry," he mumbled to Draco, hating that anyone would treat him as second fiddle, innocently or not.

It was Draco's turn to rub his back, and he did so without much consideration for the woman showing them to their travel port. "Don't be silly," he said quietly. "She didn't call me the Spawn of Voldemort, so I really don't mind."

That just made Harry wince though. Why did other people have to make things so complicated?

The thing was though, he and Draco were famous whether they liked it or not, and they were going back home to where it would be even worse, so he just needed to take a deep breath, and get back in the mind set of brushing people off in the kindest way possible. "Thank you," he said to the lady, accepting the Floo powder she proffered. "We can take it from here." She would have cleared the international hop across waters with the British Ministry, so she was only really accompanying them out of formality, and Harry didn't feel like having anyone else around them just in that moment.

Things may have been manageable since Harry had accidently, unceremoniously outed their relationship back at Hogwarts at the start of spring, but they hadn't always been easy. Draco had suffered quite cruelly at the hands of many nay-sayers, receiving numerous Howlers screaming at him how he should be ashamed with himself for seducing The Boy Who Lived through nefarious means, and some outright telling himself to do the world a favour and jump off a cliff. Harry had been there for him every step of the way, burning the damn things and holding him after the brave face he put on during the day had crumbled at night.

Harry had gotten even more mail if possible, demanding he come to his senses, explaining just how wrong Draco was for him and the like. He'd even had several parents offering up their daughters (and some sons) as a suitable substitute, and Harry had burned those too before Draco ever got a chance to see them, summing up their contents as blandly as possible so as to keep his boyfriend in the loop, but not to trouble him unduly.

As Harry stepped up to the fireplace, flinching from the added heat the flames caused in the already inflated temperature of the day, he firmly reminded himself of the hundreds of letters of support they had also received. There were some saying he deserved happiness wherever he chose, others trusting that if he had forgiven Draco then he must warrant forgiveness. But the best came from every corner of the world, from wizards and witches of all ages on every point of the sexuality spectrum thanking them profusely for being role models, for giving hope to people like them who couldn't believe that their hero was an ambassador for their way of life. Harry hadn't felt like that when he'd shouted out that he and Draco were dating in a fit of temper, he had just felt like defending the man he loved from bullies. But he'd grown to accept it was so much more than that, and he and Draco had taken time to reply to every single one of those kind letters, and preserve all the original copies in a photo album so they could look back on them in moments of doubt.

That album was currently residing in Harry's small, one bedroom flat over Wesley's Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley, and the thought of it waiting to greet him on his return cheered him no end.

"Ready?" he asked as he and Draco held each other in front of the fireplace, their luggage gripped in their free hands, waiting to jump through the flames and cross continents.

Draco nodded. "Ready," he assured.

So with that, their time in paradise was over.