"Oooh, coffee!" Draco said, looping his arm through Harry's. He tugged him off the busy pavement and into a Costa café.

Oxford Street was packed with weekend shoppers on a drizzly February day, and it was warm and dry in the café. The scent of coffee that hit Harry's nose would have been much more pleasant if he weren't still reeling from the overwhelming aromas of the bath products in the last shop.

"What do you want?" Draco asked. "I'll buy."

"Not coffee -- hot chocolate, I suppose." There was a short queue at the counter, and the place was busy. Harry glanced around. "I'll go downstairs and find a table."

"Take this." Draco handed him a small green bag. Harry grimaced, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to use that massage bar on you later or not?"

"Do I get a choice?" Harry replied. The look on Draco's face implied not.

There were several empty tables at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Harry sat and pushed Draco's purchase across the table, wrinkling his nose when he realized he could smell its contents even in the coffee-scented room.

A few minutes later, Draco slid a tray onto the table and dropped into the seat across from Harry. He looked cross.

"What?" Harry asked. Had he done something to piss Draco off without even knowing? That happened a lot.

"Can I please hex some Muggles, Harry? Just a bit?"

"No," Harry replied. "Of course not."

"Even if they deserve it?" Draco snorted and picked up his latte. It had a carefully constructed swirl of cocoa powder on top.

"Even so," Harry said, trying not to smile. "What happened this time?"

"These horrid people in line behind me were staring at me, and one of them called me a 'bloody poof'."

"Really?" Harry replied, reaching for his cocoa. "Shocking."

Draco glared at him. "Oh, come on -- look at me. Do I look like a total queen?" He rummaged about on the tray and came up with a wrapped chocolate-dipped swizzle stick.

Draco's glamour today was a hot Latin type, with shoulder-length dark hair and a chiseled face. If Harry concentrated, he could see Draco underneath, as if through a haze. But it was difficult to maintain for long, so he didn't try anymore. He just enjoyed the view.

No matter the glamour, though, Draco was undeniably gay -- and Harry's gaydar was fairly abysmal. Harry smiled at him and sipped his hot chocolate.

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's expression. "Oh, please. I am a shining example of masculinity. Women throw themselves at me all the time. Oooh." He had unwrapped the swizzle stick. "Is it just me or is this incredibly phallic?"

Harry gave him a long look.

"Anyway, they were perfectly horrid, and you've no sympathy whatsoever."

"I'm sorry they called you a name," Harry replied. "But you can't hex them."

Draco dipped the phallic swizzle stick into his latte and stirred. "Shit," he whispered, nodding to the stairwell. "That's them." Harry started to turn, and Draco kicked him under the table. "Don't look!"

Harry waited several seconds, then turned his head. And nearly fell out of his chair. Staring right back at him was his Aunt Petunia.

She saw him at the same moment, and the blood drained from her pale face. Standing right behind her and carrying a tray was Harry's cousin, Dudley. He hadn't seen either of them in years.

Aunt Petunia stepped forward, giving Draco a cursory glance as she did. "Harry. How… lovely to see you again."

Dudley just blinked at Harry. He looked more like Uncle Vernon than Harry'd remembered.

"Yes," Harry replied. "You… look well."

Petunia sniffed, then pasted on a forced smile. "Well, we're in the city shopping today. Dudley needs a new suit. He's getting married in a few weeks."

Dudley shuffled his feet beside her, staring longingly at the chocolate croissant on the tray he was holding.

"Congratulations," Harry said, forcing a smile of his own. "When's the baby due?"

"August," Dudley grinned, proudly. Draco made a sound like a cough and set his latte mug down.

Aunt Petunia's jaw clenched. "How's your wife? Well, I hope?"

"We got divorced," Harry replied. "It's just become final."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Petunia sniffed, in a tone that indicated she'd expected as much.

Harry sighed. Best to get all the pleasantries done so they would leave. "I was sorry to hear about Uncle Vernon."

Petunia frowned and looked away. "Thank you for the flowers. I'm sorry you couldn't attend the funeral."

"I would have, if I'd been invited."

"An oversight, I'm sure." Petunia sniffed again, and glanced at Dudley. "Dudley will make sure you receive an invitation to the wedding."

Which meant he wasn't really invited, of course. "I'll look forward to it. Should I bring a date?" It was all he could do not to smirk as Petunia's eyes darted back to Draco-in-disguise.

"Well..." she began.

"Have you met my boyfriend?" Harry continued, gesturing at Draco. "This is Derek. Derek, this is my Aunt Petunia and my cousin, Dudley." Dudley made a face, which could have been an expression of disgust or of intense concentration. They'd always looked the same to Harry.

Harry turned to Draco and raised his eyebrows, and the corner of Draco's mouth twisted.

Draco stood and held out his hand. "Oh, I'm so pleased to meet you! Harry's told me so much about you both. Do sit with us, please."

Petunia and Dudley stared back at him, open-mouthed.

Draco poured it on even thicker. "And what a lovely bag, Petunia! Is it vintage? My grandmother had one just like it, rest her soul." He crossed himself, but got it reversed. Harry bit his lip. "And Dudley! You are a handsome bloke, aren't you? What a lucky girl to get knocked up by a sturdy manly man such as yourself." He gasped and started fumbling through his pockets. "Oh, you simply must give her my card! I do hair and make-up you know, and weddings are my specialty--"

"We really must be going," Petunia sputtered, grasping Dudley's arm.

Dudley blinked at her. "But my croissant--"

She cut him off with a severe look. "You'll just have to eat it on the run, dear. We have so much to do."

She gave him a shove and he started up the stairs. "Erm… Bye, Harry," he called as he disappeared, stairs creaking beneath his feet.

Petunia gave Harry a stern look, nodded, and followed him.

Harry grinned as he turned back to Draco.

"Say it," Draco said, sipping his latte calmly, as if he hadn't been leaping about the room the moment before.

"That was brilliant," Harry replied.

"No," Draco sighed. "I want you to acknowledge that I am not a raging queen."

"Not normally, you mean?" Harry ducked the balled up napkin Draco threw at his head. "All right, yes! You're absolutely right. You're not a total queen."

Draco smiled and waited for him to continue.

"And… you're actually quite masculine, of course. Even when not in this particular guise."

"Thank you," Draco replied, sucking on his phallic swizzle stick again. The chocolate had nearly melted.

Harry grinned. "No, thank you."

"For terrorizing your Muggle relatives? Anytime." His smile was smug, and he looked rather pleased with himself. Too pleased.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Draco…"

"It was just a little hex," Draco said.

"How little?"

"Nothing, really. They won't even know it was magic."

"Draco," Harry repeated, trying to inject a note of warning in his tone. Not that it ever helped.

"I put a... little laxative hex on their coffees," Draco said.

Harry blinked at him.

"It's nothing, really. But they'll want to stay close to a toilet for the next few hours."

Harry snickered before he could stop himself.

"Serves them right, after the way they've treated you," Draco said. He drained his latte and winked.

Harry cupped his mug in his hands and smiled.

+++++

Fin