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Chapter 4: Making Memories With You

**Recommend playing the song above** 

The afternoon sun cast a warm golden glow over the charming streets of Paris as Harry and Draco embarked on their romantic escapade through the city. Their fingers intertwined, they strolled leisurely, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the gentle hum of the bustling city.

Draco glanced around, taking in the sights with a mixture of curiosity and delight. "Paris has a certain charm to it, doesn't it, Potter?" he remarked, his tone soft yet appreciative.

Harry nodded, a fond smile gracing his lips. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen," he replied, his eyes alight with wonder. "Almost as magical as Hogwarts."

As they turned a corner, they stumbled upon a vibrant square teeming with life and music. Musicians filled the air with lively melodies, and the energy was infectious.

Draco's eyes lit up at the sight, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Well, well, what have we here?" he mused, shooting Harry a playful glance. "Shall we join the festivities, Potter?"

Harry's grin mirrored Draco's, his heart fluttering with excitement. "Absolutely," he agreed, his Gryffindor spirit eager for adventure.

They wove their way through the crowd, their movements synchronized as they danced to the rhythm of the music. Harry couldn't help but steal glances at Draco, admiring the grace with which he moved.

Draco caught his gaze and smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Impressed, Potter?" he teased, twirling Harry around with a flourish.

Harry chuckled, the sound mingling with the music. "Always," he replied, his voice filled with affection.

In that moment, surrounded by the sights and sounds of Paris, Harry felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man by his side. Draco had brought so much light and joy into his life, and he couldn't imagine a day without him.

As they danced, Harry's thoughts drifted back to their journey together. It had been five incredible years since they'd first confessed their feelings for each other, and every day had been filled with laughter, love, and endless adventures.

Draco's laughter interrupted his reverie, drawing him back to the present moment. "Lost in thought, Potter?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Harry grinned, pulling Draco closer. "Just counting my blessings," he replied, his voice soft but sincere.

As the music faded into the distance, they reluctantly left the square behind, their hands still intertwined as they continued their journey through the city streets.

Their next stop was a bustling market, where vendors displayed an array of fresh produce, cheeses, and pastries. Draco's eyes lit up at the sight, his excitement palpable.

"Where do we begin?" he exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Harry laughed, feeling a warmth spread through him at Draco's enthusiasm. "How about we start with some cheese?" he suggested, leading the way to a nearby stall.

They spent the next hour sampling cheeses from all over France, their laughter mingling with the chatter of the market vendors. Draco's eyes sparkled with delight as he savored each bite, his enthusiasm infectious.

"This one is amazing," he declared, holding up a wedge of creamy brie. "We have to get some."

Harry nodded in agreement, a smile tugging at his lips. "And maybe a baguette to go with it?" he added, already envisioning the delicious combination.

With their arms laden with bags filled with ingredients and treats, they made their way back onto the streets of Paris, their laughter filling the air as they shared stories and jokes along the way.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the city, they finally arrived back at their apartment, ready to embark on the next adventure of their evening—cooking a romantic dinner together.

Draco wasted no time in donning an apron and taking charge of the kitchen, his confidence shining through as he set about preparing their meal. Harry watched with a mixture of amusement and admiration, grateful for Draco's culinary skills.

"You're a natural in the kitchen, you know that?" Harry remarked, leaning against the counter as he observed Draco's expert movements.

Draco smirked, a hint of pride in his expression. "Years of practice," he replied, his tone casual but his eyes softening with affection as he looked at Harry.

Harry smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him at Draco's words. It was moments like these—simple, everyday moments—that reminded him of just how lucky he was to have Draco in his life.

As they cooked together, their banter filled the air, their laughter mingling with the enticing scents wafting from the stove. Draco's laughter was like music to Harry's ears, filling him with a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before.

"Remember the first time we cooked together?" Draco mused, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips as he stirred the pot.

Harry chuckled, the memory flooding back to him. "How could I forget?" he replied, his voice tinged with fondness. "We set fire to the kitchen."

Draco laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "We were hopeless, weren't we?" he remarked, his eyes sparkling with merriment.

Harry grinned, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Draco's forehead. "But we had fun," he replied, his voice soft but sincere.

Their conversation drifted from one topic to the next, their shared laughter filling the small kitchen as they worked side by side. Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for Draco, for the love and happiness he brought into his life every single day.

As they plated their meal and settled down at the table, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, Harry felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, surrounded by warmth and laughter, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be—here in Paris, with Draco by his side.