Scared, Potter?

“What do you even need with that anyway?” he asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at his silver-headed husband. “You’ve bought four of them in the last two years, and you’ve never used any of them.”

Draco frowned. He pointed in the shopping basket. “This one is different,” he insisted.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“Well,” Draco began pacing around Harry, “It was spring then. I didn’t need it in the spring, but now that it’s wintertime, I’ll have more use for it. Because it’s the proper season.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“And,” Draco continued, “It’s on sale. You like sales, don’t you?”

“Not for buying things that you already have.”

“I’ll simply use my own money,” Draco argued. “I have plenty.”

Harry stopped the other man’s pacing. “We discussed this - we have plenty,” he said. “We have a joint account now, you see? We’re married,” he motioned between the two of them, “which means we make decisions together.”

Draco stomped his foot. “You never let me do anything!”

“I swear, this happens every time we go to the shops,” Harry muttered, taking Draco’s object of desire out of the shopping basket and putting it back on the shelf. As he began to push the cart away, Draco followed, now holding the damned item.

“Harry, this is not fair!” he cried, trailing Harry, who was quickening his pace. Draco circled Harry as he picked up a bag of apples and placed them into the shopping cart. “I demand an appeal!”

Harry laughed shortly. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, now surveying kitchenware. “You’re not getting it. That’s final.”

Draco glared at him. “You got to buy those expensive Quidditch tickets last month.”

Harry turned and faced Draco. “Those tickets were to see Ginny play,” he replied. “Besides, you love attending Quidditch matches just as much as I do.” 

“I didn’t even get to go to that one.”

“You could have gone,” Harry said. “But you didn’t want to sit next to Ron.”

“I hate that Weasel,” Draco grumbled. Harry gave his husband a warning look. 

“Hey,” he muttered. “I could have left you at home today.”

“You always buy the wrong kind of milk.” 

Harry sighed and began rolling the cart towards the checkout lane. Draco, suddenly remembering his mission, scurried after him. “Wait,” Draco exclaimed. “What if I give up my bathroom privileges for a week?”

Harry stopped. “You would let me use the bathroom before you, every morning? For a week?” he asked, incredulously.

Draco paused for a moment and grimaced. “Yes.”

Harry began to grin. “You have to let me sleep on the left side of the bed,” he said. “The whole week.”

“Oh come on, Potter.”

Harry gestured at the item in Draco’s hand. “You want it?” 

“Ugh. Yeah. Okay.”

“And you have to make dinner tomorrow night,” Harry added. “No cheating either. That is to say, no magic and absolutely no on-call House Elves.” 

“Harry!” Draco burst, horrified. Harry began to laugh. 

“And you have to-”

“You’re pushing it!” Draco growled. “Fine, I will do all of those things! Can I get this now?”

Harry smiled. “Okay.”

Draco immediately lit up with glee. He grabbed the shopping cart from Harry and ran to checkout, triumphant. Harry followed, still smiling a little. Git, he thought, affectionately. 

~ ONE WEEK LATER ~

“Hey,” Harry announced, holding a basket of laundry in one hand and Draco’s store purchase in the other, “I found this stuffed at the bottom of the downstairs closet. Did you need it?” 

Draco was lying on the couch, flipping through channels on the telly. “Not now,” he said, not looking away from the screen.

Harry frowned. “Thought you said you were going to go out yesterday and use it.”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”