Harry tilted his head and considered his words before nodding in agreement. "You're right about that," he said. "He would have done the same to me as he did to you. Your father really needs to be brought down," he muttered before exhaling a breath. He'd rather have this all these years later, after the war, then either or both of them dead.

"No," he admitted with a smile and lifted a hand, using his wandless and silent spell casting to take the scones out of the oven and turning it off. "Now we don't have to worry about the flat burning down," he teased him, bringing the other man in closer. Harry rested his forehead against Draco's and exhaled a soft breath. "I'm glad that I didn't either... but I'm even more glad we have this now."

He liked the way Draco felt right there in his arms and the way the other man's hand rest on his chest.