[Harry]
Harry borrowed Draco's fireplace to floo himself home. He didn't want to risk being seen in public, at least for a few days.
Returning to the semi-empty household needed getting used to. However, he felt strangely content.
The heart-to-heart with Draco didn't go at all bad. He felt that he could trust him, and now he knew he really could. And Draco seemed to feel the same way too.
They had talked till fairly close to noon and Draco insisted that he stay for lunch. It was heated frozen food from the muggle supermarket. A hearty meal, nonetheless. He didn't expect much from a single man living alone without house-elves anyway.
Harry did insist to at least pay him for the meal and they argued over it for a considerable time, only ending it when Draco dragged him into his kitchen and tugged open the refrigerator door, revealing mounds of frozen food.
"For the last time, Potter. It's. Not. A. Problem."
Harry smiled, still hearing Draco's exasperated voice.
Practically chirping to himself, he plopped down on his couch, content. He finally felt at peace internally. He spent the rest of the day idling, reading a bit, tidying up, enjoy the last moments of calmness before he returned to Auror training tomorrow.
Humming happily, he rolled into bed and felt the bliss of sleep dawn on him.
He was completely oblivious to what the Daily Prophet had to say tomorrow.
---
Harry's alarm clock rang annoyingly. Shooting a dirty look at it for disrupting his most peaceful and restful sleep in ages, he got up. The clock merely arched up its handle back at him.
It was nice being back in his own house. At least that meant he didn't screw up big time. He dwelled a little on the fact that he kind of missed Draco's company, but he decided not to head down that road.
Just when he finished tightening his tie to the right length so that it looked formal enough but won't choke him, he heard a rapid tapping at his bedroom window. It was Ron and Hermione's owl.
That was weird. What did they possibly have to say to him at eight-thirty in the morning?
He went to slide the window open. Their owl, Rem, practically swooshed into his room at lightning speed, lifting up his leg impatiently. Harry froze. Rem was usually warm and fluffy, clicking his beak. That could only mean an emergency.
He rushed to untie the parchment attached as Rem hooted at him to hurry up.
It unrolled and Harry dropped to the ground.
Harry,
We don't know if you've checked the Prophet yet, but you might want to avoid training today. Mione called in sick and George is taking my shift. Floo call if you need us.
Ron and Mione
Harry's stomach lurched. He dashed downstairs and found his subscription of the Prophet lying on his table. Scrambling, he tore it open.
He failed to hold back a gasp-sob.
GOLDEN DAY FOR THE GOLDEN GAY
It is revealed by an insider that the Chosen One, a.k.a. the one and only Harry Potter, is indeed gay. The recent divorce-
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Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)
Fanfiction"Correct me if I'm wrong, Harry- but did you, or did you not, stare at him across the seas of tables in the Great Hall, and always manage to find him in the uttermost impossible crowds?" "No." Harry seethed, his face flushed red. Yes. Ron continued...
