the one | h. potter

50. ours

The next morning, I wake up in Harry's bed. Correction: our bed. Although it seems as though I've been calling it ours for ages. The reality of Harry's question last night has now truly sunk in, and I'm speechless.

I'm moving into Grimmauld Place.

The alarm we set every morning has woken Harry up as well (even though he usually sleeps through it) and he wraps his arms around my waist.

"G'morning, roommate," he purrs sleepily. I turn to meet him for a quick chaste kiss before climbing out of bed. Harry groans at the loss. "No! Come back," he grumbles.

"It's Monday, princess. We've got work in an hour."

"I don't wanna go to work!" he complains. "Too early."

I roll my eyes, sit down on his side of the bed, and bend down to kiss him again. He leans up into the kiss, but I pull away once he's fully seated and pull off his blanket.

"Hey!" he yells, grabbing the blanket at his feet and covering himself up to his waist. Harry always sleeps in just his boxer shorts ("It's comfortable, you should try it sometime," he'd laughed when I asked him about it), and his toned body is visible. He came into training pretty skinny, but he's gained body muscle and mass over the past six months. No longer is he the boy I met in our office 8 months ago, but a man. A very gorgeous and fit man.

Harry notices my staring and smirks, placing both hands behind his head and subtly flexing. I roll my eyes, shake my head, and excuse myself to the bathroom. He appears less than a minute later, while I'm washing my face, and begins to kiss my neck.

I towel my face off and glare at him. "We're going to be late."

"I don't care," Harry shrugs. "I do care, however, that I now get to wake up next to you. Every day."

"I haven't moved in yet."

"I know," he says, resuming his neck kisses (which he's way too good at). "But you will. And that's all that matters."

• • •

I run down the stairs into the kitchen five minutes before work starts, pulling on my robes and sending a spell down towards my feet to tie my sneakers. Harry's still upstairs finishing getting ready (which takes him ages), and I'm going to get a headstart to the office so I can make him some coffee in the breakroom. I hear a scratching noise coming from the window, and open it to find a daily prophet owl. I pay the owl, stuff the paper into my robes without looking at it (the prophet is still rubbish), and run towards the floo.

I take the private channel to the lone fireplace at the auror offices, which are already full and bustling with people. To avoid unnecessary conversation, I pull the paper out of my robes and pretend to read it, not even looking at the cover.

I mentally decide that it's time to tell Draco about Harry. Now that I'm moving out of the manor, he's bound to ask questions, and I don't want to keep it from him any longer. The sooner I tell him the better. Sometime this week, maybe even today if he joins us for lunch, should work.

I'm so engrossed in thinking of ways to break it to him I don't notice the weird looks I'm getting until I'm right at the office door. All the men are staring, all the women glaring. How did I not notice?

I push open the door and it emits a high-pitched squeak. "Have you guys noticed something off with everyone today?" I ask the room, still looking over my shoulder.

"Look who it is!" someone, who doesn't sound like Katie or Ron, says. It's more drawled, with a stronger accent, and is a voice I should be able to recognize in my sleep. I guess my brain is out of it today.

Draco.

I turn around to smile at him, but his face is anything but happy. He's scowling, red, and angry; I can tell from the shadowed, stormy look in his normally bright grey eyes.

"What?" I question, eyebrows furrowing.

Draco takes a couple of steps until he's right in front of me and jabs his pointer finger into my chest. "What do you mean what?!" he barks. "You, you lied!"

"What?" I whisper. I step back and peer around Draco's shoulder and sure enough, Katie's standing behind him, pointing silently at the Prophet in her hand. I snatch it out from under my armpit and unfold it.

Oh no.