Chapter Text
When Harry wakes up in the morning, he first notices how warm he feels. It’s so warm, Merlin. Then, he feels a body against his, and it takes a moment to realize that it’s Draco’s arms tightly wrapped around his torso, and for a moment, Harry freezes. Draco? In his bed? What the —
Memories of last night come back to him — memories of kissing Draco, touching him, and more. Goosebumps form on Harry’s arms, and he feels breathless.
Not in a million years did he think he would end up in bed with Draco Malfoy. If, a year ago, someone had shown him an image of Draco and himself right now in this intimate position, he would have hexed the person. The thought almost makes Harry chuckle, but he doesn’t want to wake Draco, so he keeps as quiet as possible. He seems so peaceful and happy in Harry’s arms. Harry has never seen this soft expression on Draco before — it makes him look so much younger and wonderful.
How has Harry never noticed this before? Why is he only now seeing how pretty Draco truly is?
Soft blond hair falls over Draco’s forehead, framing his face. His pink lips are slightly parted, and his long lashes illuminate his cheeks.
“Beautiful,” Harry whispers and gently traces his fingertips over Draco’s cheeks. Harry feels so peaceful with Draco in his arms. He can’t remember the last time his mind and body felt so calm and relaxed.
The peaceful atmosphere gets interrupted several minutes later when the door bursts open with a loud bang. The sound and sudden movement make Draco jump, now wide awake, and he shrieks.
“Hey, sleepyhead, we are waiting for you! Are you not joining us for breakfast?” Neville asks as he stumbles into Harry’s room. Then, his eyes flicker to Draco in Harry’s arms. For a split second, Neville frowns, confused. Then, his face softens. “Oh, hi, Draco. Are you joining us as well?”
Draco sits up and pulls the blanket over his chest, his eyes flickering to Harry, looking unsure, but Harry nods. He wants Draco to join them. It would be silly to not have breakfast together after last night. “We’re both coming,” he says, “give us a minute.”
“Sure, we’ll wait downstairs,” Neville replies, leaving the room again and closing the door softly behind him.
Harry stretches his arms and yawns, ready to get out of bed. Draco, however, sits stiffly next to Harry and blinks at him, stunned. “I have so many questions.”
“What?” Harry asks and looks over to Draco, who’s still sitting awkwardly, clutching the blanket tightly. He looks cute like this. “Why?” Harry chuckles and throws the blanket away. He feels sad leaving the bed. If it weren’t for their classes and his friends waiting for them, he would easily stay in bed with Draco all day.
Now, Draco sits up and frowns at Harry. “First of all, why was Neville not freaking out over seeing us together in bed?”
“Neville doesn’t judge,” Harry explains with a shrug. “I don’t think Neville would ever freak out over something like this.”
“Okay, but — he invited me to have breakfast with you.”
“Yes, and?”
“I’m not part of your group,” Draco replies, worriedly nibbling his bottom lip.
Harry gently pushes Draco’s shoulder. “The past is the past,” he says. “We all want to start over. That’s why you’re joining us for breakfast.”
“I don’t know,” Draco mumbles, staring at his hands and looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“It is,” Harry decides and grabs Draco’s wrist. He knows it’s a good idea. He really, really, really wants Draco to join him for breakfast. Why? He’s not so sure himself. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to separate from Draco right now. “Come on, now.” He pulls Draco up from the bed, and when Draco stands on his feet, he stumbles slightly closer to Harry. For a moment, they stand still, staring at each other. Draco is standing so close, Merlin. All Harry has to do is lean forward a few inches, and they will kiss.
Harry really wants to kiss Draco, he realizes. But can he? Is he allowed to? Is kissing a thing now? Harry would love it to be a thing, but maybe Draco isn’t on the same page. What if Draco isn’t interested in kissing? Or touching? Or spending time together? Harry takes a careful step back. “You don’t have to join us for breakfast,” he says. “Don’t feel pressured.”
Draco quickly shakes his head. “No, no, that’s not it,” he promises and steps closer to Harry, closing the distance again. “It’s just — yeah, I don’t know. I guess I’m just — shy? Insecure? I don’t know.”
Harry feels a sudden tightness inside his chest, and he cups Draco’s cheek. He hates seeing Draco so unsure. “You don’t have to feel insecure,” he promises him. “Do you want clothes from me?”
Draco blinks as if he just woke up from a trance and shakes his head. “Uh,” Draco says, his eyes flickering all over Harry’s face, “wouldn’t that be weird?”
Harry frowns in confusion. Weird? What does that mean? Sometimes, he struggles to follow Draco’s train of thought. He never quite knows what to expect from him. “Why?”
“I mean, sharing clothes is kinda domestic,” he explains, scratching his arm and looking awkward. “Intimate.”
If Harry thought he was overthinking things with Draco, then Draco is worse. Merlin, this man is the definition of overthinking!
“Merlin, Draco, you think too much,” Harry responds and steps to his closet. He grabs a random blue sweater and throws it at Draco. He catches it with ease and blinks at it a few times. Then, he sighs, slips out of his shirt, and changes into the sweater. Harry tilts his head and looks at Draco from head to toe. He looks good despite his hair being messy from sleep and his skin a little pink from blushing so much. “Blue suits you,” Harry eventually says. “You should wear it more often.”
Another pretty blush covers Draco’s cheeks, and he ducks his head, smoothening the blue fabric with his hands. Cute. Harry should compliment Draco more often.
Harry quickly changes into a fresh sweater and a fresh pair of sweatpants. Then, they head to the great hall together, ready to join the others for breakfast. He can feel how tense Draco is, the aggravated energy radiating off him, and Harry isn’t sure how he can help him. He clears his throat, feeling bad that he pushed Draco to come along now. It’s clear that Draco isn’t happy about the situation. “Look, you know you don’t have to join us, right?” He scratches the back of his head. “Just because I’d like you to join me doesn’t mean you actually have to do it.”
“You want me to join?” Draco asks with big eyes. He steps past a few students, trying to keep up with Harry‘s fast pace.
“Of course,” Harry snorts, throwing Draco an amused look. “Why else did I invite you, hm?”
“Oh,” Draco breathes. He steps closer to Harry now, their arms pressing together, and a shy smile spreads all over his face. Cute. “Well. Then, I’ll gladly come along.”
This makes Harry smile, and out of instinct, he grabs Draco’s hand and squeezes it. Just as quickly, he lets go again. He’s unsure if he’s allowed to hold Draco’s hand — especially in public.
They enter the Great Hall, and Harry spots his friend group sitting together in the corner. Harry waves at them, and Ron nearly chokes on his tea when he spots Draco walking closely behind Harry.
Feeling protective of Draco, Harry grabs Draco’s waist and guides him until Draco sits on the bench, Harry sitting next to him. “Morning,” Harry says and grabs a slice of toast. He hands Draco another slice with a soft smile. The Great Hall is filled with students, and sounds of laughter and chatter fill the hall. For the first time in a long time, the laughter doesn’t annoy Harry. He’s glad that the other students seem so happy. He can be happy for them today.
Draco, however, is silent. He presses his leg against Harry’s, seeking his comfort. A few ghosts roam the hall, teasing some students and making them laugh, but Harry only focuses on Draco.
“Morning, Harry,” Ron says. Then, he clears his throat, his eyes flickering to Draco. “Malfoy.”
Draco nods at Ron with a neutral expression, but Harry notices how the corner of Draco’s mouth twitches.
Hermione and Ron exchange a questioning look. Hermione coughs. “How nice of you to join us, Draco.” Harry knows Hermione means well, but her words could sound ironic to someone who doesn’t know her very well. Harry shoots Hermione a pointed look, and she shrugs apologetically, looking helpless.
Draco throws Harry a look that screams for help. Draco seems uncomfortable, shuffling closer to Harry. He’s not sure if Draco is aware that he’s doing this, but Harry finds it endearing. He places his hand on top of Draco’s thigh and squeezes. “I invited Draco to join us,” Harry announces. “We can always expand our group, can’t we?”
“Of course,” Neville agrees quickly. “Draco, do you want some coffee?” Neville asks and hands Draco the coffee can. Draco takes it with a thankful nod, but he still keeps quiet.
Now, the others start chatting about homework, visiting Hogsmeade, and the latest quidditch news. The atmosphere slowly grows more natural, and that’s when Harry leans against Draco’s side. He knows Draco must feel uncomfortable, and Harry wishes he could do something to make it better. “You okay?”
Draco presses his arm against Harry’s. “As long as you stay with me, yes,” he whispers back. That simple statement makes Harry’s heart flutter inside his chest, and he feels warm all over.
Harry smiles and squeezes Draco’s thigh. “I’ll stay with you,” he promises.
Of course, he’ll stay with Draco. He can’t imagine leaving his side.
***
When Harry walks into the dungeons later that day, ready for another dreadful potions class, his feet automatically carry him to where Draco sits. He’s not even thinking about it—it’s like a magnetic force pulling him toward Draco, who’s quietly sitting in a corner, reading a book. Ron and Hermione shoot Harry confused looks, but Hermione holds Ron back, giving Harry space to approach Draco. “Let’s sit at the back,” she whispers.
Harry appreciates that they’re not asking any questions. He appreciates that they simply let him be. They allow him to explore whatever is happening between Draco and him, even if Harry doesn’t fully understand the whole thing himself.
Harry falls into the chair next to Draco, and the wizard shrieks in surprise, turning to Harry with huge grey eyes. “What —“
The room fills with students, but Harry doesn’t pay them any attention. Instead, he gets out his notebook.
Draco blinks. “What are you doing?”
Harry looks at Draco. “Sitting.” Someone in the back of the classroom nearly stumbles, but neither Draco nor Harry pays them any attention. Their eyes are glued to each other. Harry’s only focus is on Draco. Nobody else.
“No, I mean — why are you sitting here with me?”
What kind of question is that? Harry is confused. “Because I want to?”
Draco stares at Harry. “Why?”
Harry shrugs. “I just do.”
“But —“
Their conversation gets interrupted when Professor Graham enters, and the classroom falls quiet. Harry looks to the front of the classroom and watches how Professor Graham places several ingredients on the desk. Professor Graham is fine. He’s trying his best, and while he’s a bit awkward, he’s kind.
However, a tightness builds in Harry’s chest, remembering how Professor Snape used to stand at the front, his scowl frightening and annoying at the same time. Professor Graham will never replace Snape. Watching him at the front makes Harry miss Professor Snape so much that it physically hurts. Harry’s jaw clenches, the coldness spreading all over his body, and he stares at his trembling hands.
Long, slender fingers wrap around Harry’s, and Harry blinks in surprise. Draco is holding his hand. Their fingers intertwine, and Draco squeezes tightly.
Draco understands.
Draco might even feel the same way.
Harry closes his eyes and enjoys how warm and comforting Draco’s hand feels. It helps Harry calm down and makes him feel much less alone.
The first half of the class passes by like a blur. Harry isn’t really listening to Professor Graham’s explanations. Instead, he focuses on Draco and them holding hands.
For the second half, Professor Graham orders them to brew a potion. Harry clears his throat and turns to Draco. “Umm — actually, I’m not amazing at brewing potions.”
Draco grins. “I know,” he says. “But I am. You chose the right team partner.”
Oh, Harry already knows that. He definitely chose the right team partner. He watches Draco with a soft smile and watches how Draco eagerly prepares the kettle. The small frown on his face makes him look really cute. “Can you get some unicorn hair, ylang ylang, and pearl dust?”
Like an obedient puppy, Harry nods and heads to the cupboard, getting all of the needed ingredients and carrying them back to their table. He hopes he got the right ingredients. Potions have never been his strongest skill.
“Do you want to try it?”
“And kill us both?” Harry says, horrified. He shakes his head. “No, thanks. You do it.”
Draco laughs. “You won’t kill us,” he says. “It’s a harmless potion.” He nudges Harry with his elbow. “Come on. Try it.”
Hesitating, Harry takes a step back. “I don’t know, Draco. I really do suck at potions.”
“I’m here to help,” Draco encourages him. “Come on.”
Sighing, Harry steps closer to the caldron and stares at the empty insides. What is he supposed to do now? He’s not sure.
“First the pearl dust,” Draco tells him.
Harry nods and grabs the ingredient, pouring it into the cauldron. Then, he adds the ylang ylang.
“Not too quickly,” Draco tells him. “You need to be delicate while adding ingredients.”
Harry huffs. “I’m not very delicate.”
“You can be,” Draco encourages him. He steps closer to Harry and gently holds his wrist. “I’ll guide you.” Draco carefully moves Harry’s wrist and helps him pour the ylang ylang into the kettle. God, he’s standing so closely. He can even feel Draco’s fresh breath on his neck. Merlin. Harry closes his eyes for a second, trying to compose himself, but that’s when his hand shakes, and a big chunk of ylang ylang spills into the kettle.
Harry gasps. Oh no. He freezes in shock. What did he just do?
Next thing he knows, the mixture explodes loudly, and his face turns cold and wet.
Harry blinks in surprise, stunned. Oh. What just happened? Is he still alive? Then, Draco bursts into hysterical laughter. “Your face is bright pink!” He giggles and points at Harry’s face.
Is it? Harry turns toward Draco and now it's him who bursts into laughter. Draco’s cheeks and forehead are covered in pink liquid. Harry isn’t sure if their potion is supposed to be pink — it’s definitely not supposed to cover their faces. “So is yours,” Harry laughs. Draco looks hilarious with the potion all over his face, making him laugh so hard that his tummy hurts.
“Malfoy, Potter,” Professor Graham shrieks as he rushes toward their table. “Your faces — pink — everywhere!”
Draco cackles and nearly falls over from laughing so hard, and Harry can’t help but join the laughter. The pink looks too funny on Draco, and the situation is just hilarious.
“Go and wash up,” Professor Graham yells. “Both of you. Now.”
Still dying from laughter, Harry and Draco leave the classroom and head to the closest bathroom, their laughter echoing in the hallways.
Harry can’t stop laughing. He can’t remember the last time he has laughed this hard, and god, does it feel good. Tears of laughter are streaming down both their faces.
“Let me help you,” Harry giggles once they’re inside the bathroom. He grabs some tissues and wets them with water and soap. Then, he cups Draco’s cheek. Gently, he begins to rub the pink off Draco’s face.
Only now do they slowly stop laughing. Now, Draco stares at Harry with big eyes.
Realisation suddenly dawns on Harry: they’re standing impossibly close, and they’re in a relatively secluded space. No one will accidentally stumble inside this bathroom.
Merlin, Draco is standing so close. So close that Draco’s minty breath tingles Harry’s lips. Every cell in his being wants to kiss Draco. The desire to kiss him is overwhelming.
So, Harry gives in. He leans forward and presses his lips against Draco’s with a desperate moan, gripping Draco’s waist and pulling him against his chest. The kiss isn’t gentle; it’s not sweet. It’s desperate and needy right from the start, and Draco matches Harry’s movements as if they’re in perfect sync. They’re stumbling back against the bathroom tiles, and Draco is even more eager to kiss Harry now. His hands roam all over Harry’s body, gripping and clutching, trying to get his shirt off, trying to bite his lips, touching him everywhere.
Harry chuckles breathlessly as his fingers find Draco’s belt, opening it. Draco gasps, his hips rolling forward. “Are we really doing this?” He rasps. “Here?”
“Yes,” Harry breathes. He mutters a spell under his breath, which locks the door. “Undress.”
Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. At lightning speed, he slips out of his clothes, staring at Harry with huge, expectant eyes. He’s obedient, and Harry loves it. God, he loves this so much.
“Pretty,” Harry breathes, taking in all of Draco.
Then, he sinks to his knees, and Draco releases a shaky gasp. “Harry —“
“Shhh,” Harry hushes him and places his hands against Draco’s thighs. He inches forward and licks his lips. He wants to taste Draco so badly that his fingers shake with want, so he leans forward and softly licks the tip of Draco’s hard dick. Draco’s response is heaven: he moans loudly, his thighs shaking, his fingers finding Harry’s head.
When Harry wraps his lips around Draco‘s tip, the wizard nearly collapses, and Harry has to hold him up by holding his thighs. He tries his hardest not to smile because he doesn’t want to accidentally scrape his teeth over Draco‘s sensitive length, but god, does it feel good to see the effect Harry has on Draco.
Flattening his tongue and relaxing his jaw, Harry begins to suck. He hums around Draco‘s hardness, swallowing some of the precum and gurgling around Draco, trying to take him even deeper.
Draco’s thighs start to shake, his fingers tightening in Harry’s hair. He rolls his hips forward and into Harry’s mouth, and Harry welcomes it with a pleased hum. It’s so hot to see Draco like this. It’s hot that he’s so fucking needy and desperate, fuck.
Draco seems close already. He’s a whimpering, needy mess, holding onto Harry‘s hair desperately, gasping and moaning. “Harry — can’t — close —“
Harry hums again. He loves how hot and bothered Draco is, and that it’s his doing! Harry did this. Pleased, he quickens his pace and breathes through his nose, trying to make Draco orgasm. Draco’s fingers clench in Harry’s hair, pulling tightly, holding him close, and Harry loves it.
When Draco comes, he yells Harry’s name and sinks against the wall, his muscles relaxing and his legs giving in. Harry catches him just in time and holds him up with strong arms. “Easy,” he chuckles. Sinking against Harry’s chest, Draco sighs and wraps his arms around Harry’s torso.
“That felt good,” he mumbles, his voice slightly blurry.
“I’m glad,” Harry chuckles and kisses Draco’s head. Draco is really freaking cute like this, and Harry doesn’t mind holding him for a while. He doesn’t mind it at all.
“Give me a minute,” Draco slurs. “Wanna return the favor.”
“It’s not a favor,” Harry laughs. “I just wanted to suck you off. And you don’t have to return anything.”
“But I wanna,” Draco pouts, looking at Harry with huge, grey eyes, making Harry laugh in fond adoration.
“You can,” Harry promises him. “But later. We need to get back to class.”
Draco huffs, upset. “Do you not want me to?“
Harry frowns and cups Draco’s cheeks with both hands. “Has the potion messed with your head?”
Draco blushes and closes his eyes.
“You can sleep in my room tonight,” Harry says, “and you can return the favor if you like.” Harry emphasizes the word to make Draco understand that Harry means it sarcastically.
Draco doesn’t even pay any attention to Harry’s sarcasm. He stares at Harry with huge eyes and asks: “Do you really want me to?”
“I’m expecting you at ten in my bedroom,” Harry says and pecks Draco’s lips. “Preferably naked.”
***
After their potion class, Harry feels the strange need to stay with Draco. He doesn’t want to go back to his room, and he also doesn’t want to spend time with any of his friends (no offense to Ron, Hermione, Neville, or Luna — he loves them).
But no, he just really wants to stay with Draco.
However, Harry isn’t sure if Draco feels the same way. He doesn’t want to do too much. Harry has already invited Draco to his room tonight — maybe Draco needs some time for himself now. Maybe Draco thinks Harry is being clingy and annoying.
Unsure of what to do, Harry takes an unnecessarily long amount of time packing his bag. From the corner of his eyes, he sees how Draco also takes his time packing his belongings.
“Umm —“ Harry starts, and Draco’s head snaps up.
Draco‘s eyes look hopeful when he breathes: “Yes?”
“Anything exciting planned for this afternoon?” Harry asks, still careful and worried about overstepping boundaries. He grabs another pen and slowly puts it inside his bag, trying to create as much time for them as possible.
Draco quickly shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing at all. I have time. Lots of time, yeah.” He straightens his back, looking very eager all of a sudden.
Harry licks his lips. “Yeah, same.”
Draco whips on his feet back and forth and looks at Harry with huge, expectant eyes. “So?”
So — what? What is Harry supposed to do now? Is he doing too much by asking Draco to hang out today? Does Draco want Harry to ask? Harry isn’t sure. He scratches the back of his neck, feeling incredibly awkward and unsure. “I — I haven’t played quidditch in a while.”
What? Harry wants to smack himself across the face. Quidditch? Seriously?
However, Draco’s eyes light up, and he steps closer. “Me too,” he breathes. "It’s been a long time. We could—" Draco presses his lips together and stops himself.
“What?” Harry says, stepping forward himself. “We could what?”
“Never mind,” Draco quickly says and steps back, shaking his head. “Never mind.”
Out of instinct, Harry grabs Draco’s wrist and stops him from stepping away more. “Please,” Harry whispers, and Draco stops in his step, blinking at Harry, surprised.
“I thought we could play together,” Draco whispers, his cheeks turning pink. “But that’s silly. Forget it. I bet you have better things to do.”
“I don’t,” Harry quickly says. “I would love to play with you.”
“Really?”
Harry smiles and tugs at Draco’s wrist. “Come on.”
***
It’s a little absurd how Harry and Draco stand on the empty quidditch pitch across from each other, their brooms in their hands and both wearing massive grins.
“Whoever catches the snitch first wins,” Harry announces.
“That will be me,” Draco says with a playful smirk, pointing at his chest.
“Keep dreaming, Malfoy,” Harry snarls, shooting Draco a challenging grin. “Ready?”
“Are you, Potter?”
Harry gets on his broom and feels excitement surge through him. God, he feels almost as excited as he did when he first started playing Quidditch all these years ago. His feet lift off the ground, and he keeps his eyes firmly on Draco the entire time. So does Draco. The energy between them is as wild and intense as it always was — but something is different this time. Where once used to simmer hate, rivalry, and anger, now simmers desire, tension, and lust.
Harry feels animalistic. Draco pulls him in, leaves him breathless, and makes his heart race inside his chest. What a crazy feeling. Harry has never felt like this before.
Harry’s hand opens, and the golden snitch shoots up in the air with a vibrating sound. Then, the game is on.
Fuck, Harry forgot how fast Draco is. Within seconds, they spot the snitch and fly right ahead, trying to knock the other off the broom. Draco easily keeps up with Harry — he’s fast and skilled and manages to catch Harry by surprise a few times. They’re flying across the field, up and down, to the left, to the right, following the snitch closely. Harry doesn’t even care about winning. When he was younger, he would have, but not anymore. All he wants is to have fun with Draco.
And merlin, it’s so much fun to fly with him. Harry feels carefree and easy. Nothing matters but them. When Draco tries to knock Harry off his broom again, Harry manages to get a hold of Draco‘s shirt and yanks with full force, causing Draco to lose balance and fall to the side. He grabs Harry’s arms, which makes Harry lose his balance. And then, they both fall off their brooms and on the ground, right into a pile of mud.
For a second, Harry is too stunned to react. All he can do is lie on the ground and stare at the sky. Then, he bursts into hysterical laughter.
Harry is laughing so hard that his tummy hurts. What a silly situation: They’re lying in the mud, and neither of them cares that their clothes are covered in dirt. Tears of laughter roll down Harry’s cheeks, and when he turns to Draco, he sees that Draco isn’t doing much better. Draco is laughing so hard that his eyes tear up, and his head is thrown back. His hair isn’t blonde anymore — the brown mud is covering the blonde locks.
They both try to catch their breaths. “Merlin, I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard,” Draco sighs, and when Harry turns to look at him, he feels mesmerized by the soft smile on Draco’s face.
He’s truly beautiful. So ethereal. Those grey eyes, soft lips, straight nose, and sharp jaw. Harry leans over and hovers above Draco, who’s blinking at Harry in surprise. Then, he leans down and connects their lips in a firm kiss.
Draco hums, his fingers tangling in Harry’s hair and pulling him closer. They’re kissing, and Harry feels on cloud nine. He doesn’t even care that they’re in public, out in the open, on the quidditch pitch. He doesn’t care that anyone can see them right now. All Harry cares about is Draco, his soft lips, lean body, smell, eyes, and everything.
Harry loses track of time.
Harry pulls back only when it gets darker, and they both start shivering.
“We should probably take a shower,” Draco mumbles. “We’re covered in mud.”
Harry smirks. “Was that an invitation?”
Draco blinks at Harry, stunned. “You mean — together?”
Harry laughs and pulls Draco into a sitting position. “We took a bath together. Why not shower together?”
A pretty blush covers Draco’s cheeks. “Oh — I mean — do you really want to?”
Harry rolls his eyes and grabs Draco’s hands. Draco is seriously asking too many silly questions. They get up, and Harry intertwines his hand with Draco’s. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to.” He pulls Draco toward the castle.
***
The atmosphere between them is different once they’re standing in the shower together.
It’s a lot more calm and quiet. Peaceful. Emotional.
Draco’s eyes are closed, and he holds Harry’s waist, not letting go. Harry presses a soft kiss against Draco’s forehead while warm water washes the mud away, lulling him in and keeping them warm and comfortable.
Harry thought their shower would be sexual, but he doesn’t feel horny right now. All he wants is to hold Draco in his arms and cherish him. He wants to hold Draco forever.
Wrapping his arms around Draco, Harry nuzzles his nose into the crook of Draco’s neck and shoulder. He sighs when Draco presses soft kisses against Harry’s collarbone.
“We almost killed each other during our quidditch matches,” Draco huffs. “Look at us now.”
“Look how the tables have turned,” Harry laughs, his fingertips gently pressing into Draco’s skin. “Our rivalry was pretty iconic, though.”
Draco snorts. “It was stupid,” he says. “I was arrogant, stubborn, and childish.”
“So was I,“ Harry mumbles, his lips grazing Draco’s ear. “But we were children,” Harry points out. “We were eleven.”
Draco sighs and tightens his hold around Harry’s waist. “We’ve known each other for so long now.”
Even though they’re in a public bathroom, Harry feels nothing exists outside their little bubble. Standing here with Draco feels safe and comfortable. The world around them doesn’t matter. Draco feels familiar. They truly have known each other for so long. He has known Draco for as long as he has known Hermione and Ron. He considers those two his family — so, what is Draco to him, then? What is Draco to him now that things have changed between them?
Home.
The word forms inside Harry’s brain and stays there. Draco feels like home. It’s silly and strange how the universe works, how Harry has hated Draco for most of his life, but now they’re standing here, and Draco feels like home. “Maybe that’s why you feel like home,” Harry admits in a soft whisper, feeling brave enough to confess this to Draco.
Surprised, Draco pulls back to look at Harry. “Home?”
“Just —“ Harry blushes, suddenly feeling shy. “I just feel comfortable around you. Like, how I feel when I’m at home.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Draco whispers. “Where is home for you?”
“For the longest time, it was Hogwarts,” Harry whispers. “It doesn’t feel the same anymore though. Not after the war, not after everything.” Harry closes his eyes. “Maybe Grimmauld place. But it reminds me so much of Sirius, and that pain —“ Harry shakes his head. He can’t talk about Sirius right now.
“I feel similar,” Draco whispers. “Malfoy’s mansion hasn’t felt the same ever since — you know. I don’t wanna go back there. It gives me the creeps.” Harry can only imagine. He tightens his grip around Draco. “And Hogwarts … I don’t know. I feel so much pain walking around the castle now.”
“I understand,” Harry replies. Draco doesn’t have to explain anything further. Harry can see how it pains him. “I get it.”
Draco leans his forehead against Harry’s and sighs. “Maybe you’re right,” he whispers. “Maybe home isn’t a place, but a feeling.” He’s quiet for a moment. “And maybe I also feel at home with you.”
That simple statement makes Harry’s chest flutter, and he cups Draco’s cheeks with both hands. Water is flowing all over them, and even though Draco’s hair sticks to his head, he’s the most beautiful person Harry has ever seen. Draco’s eyes flicker to Harry’s lips, and then, he leans forward. They’re kissing. Soft and careful. Tender and sweet.
Emotions twirl inside Harry’s chest, and he feels a bit overwhelmed when Draco pushes him back against the shower wall. He lets it happen, and he is glad that Draco finally feels confident enough to take the initiative. He allows Draco to roam his hands all over his body, making Harry gasp in response. It feels so good to have Draco touch him like this. Every muscle is excited for Draco’s touch. His body shakes in anticipation.
Harry is not inexperienced when it comes to sex, but he’s definitely no expert either, and Draco makes him feel like a little boy experiencing sex for the very first time. Each touch, stroke, kiss, and bite feels electrifying, and Harry gets addicted. He wants this all day, every day, preferably forever.
“Harry,” Draco moans and presses his hips against Harry’s, pressing their erections together. Harry can’t help the loud, broken moan that slips past his lips. This feels too good, Merlin. Harry can’t get enough. “Need you — need more — need —“
Draco grows desperate and needy, his hands turning frantic, and Harry knows it’s time to take the lead again. He doesn’t mind at all. He likes taking the lead. Anything with Draco makes him happy.
So, he grabs Draco and turns them around, pressing Draco against the shower wall and moving his leg between Draco’s, pressing his knee against Draco’s dick. Draco moans and starts shivering, his head thrown back against the tiles. The soft moans echo in the empty bathroom, and Harry wishes they could be even louder than this.
Now that Draco’s throat is exposed, Harry takes the opportunity to bite all over Draco’s jaw, leaving soft little bites that make him feel good.
The moans that slip past Draco’s lips become louder and louder, and at this point, they sound scandalous. Anyone hearing them would think they’re filming porn, but Harry doesn’t care. He’s too far gone already, too turned on. His cock is too hard, his muscles too tight, begging for sweet release.
Everything feels hot and addictive, and Harry can’t get enough. God, he can’t get enough.
They’re kissing, hungry and greedy, and Harry’s tongue slips into Draco’s mouth, taking more and more. When Harry’s hand wraps around both Draco’s and his length, Draco nearly collapses, his knees shaking, clutching Harry for leverage. “Harry,” he gasps. “Fuck — Harry — please —“ Seeing Draco so crazy and desperate is so fucking hot — it turns Harry on like crazy. He can’t get enough. He wants Draco to moan more, to lose control, to let go.
Tears form in Draco’s eyes, and he clutches Harry’s shoulders, his nails digging into the skin. They’re staring at each other now while Harry gets them off, his hand working both of their lengths quickly. It’s not going to take long, at least not for Harry. He’s so hard for Draco that it almost hurts. God, he wants Draco so much. He craves him, desires him, needs him.
Tears of pleasure now roll down Draco’s cheeks. He looks fucked in every possible way, and Harry is mesmerized. He leans forward and kisses Draco again, tasting desire on his tongue.
They’re kissing while hot tightness pulls at Harry’s lower half, right between his legs. His thighs start shaking, and he speeds up his hand, working both of their lengths quicker and quicker. Draco sobs into Harry’s mouth, needy and desperate, and the way his nails dig into his skin is almost painful now, but Harry doesn’t care. They’re kissing, moaning, crying — until Draco comes with a loud cry, spilling cum all over Harry’s hand, which quickly washes away with the water.
Harry comes a second after, the sight of seeing Draco's orgasm too hot for him to handle. He comes with a loud gasp, moaning into Draco’s mouth, hot release taking over him. Fucking hell.
Harry gasps for air. He feels like he just ran a marathon, his lungs tight and his muscles shaking. Sinking against Draco’s chest, Draco wraps his arms around Harry, holding him up and sighing softly. “You did all the work again,” Draco pouts. “I don’t wanna be a pillow princess.”
Confused, Harry lifts his head to blink at Draco. “A what?”
“A pillow princess,” Draco repeats and turns the shower off. The sudden silence feels magnetic. Harry feels like he’s in another universe with Draco, far away from the rest of the world. “Someone who enjoys receiving sexual pleasure and doesn’t reciprocate.”
For a moment, all Harry can do is stare at Draco in confusion. He has never heard of the term before and certainly wouldn’t have called Draco that, either. But Draco seems deadly serious, his brows drawn together, and Harry realizes Draco is actually upset over this. This makes Harry burst into laughter. “Are you serious right now?”
“Don’t laugh,” Draco whines and punches Harry’s arm.
Harry only laughs harder, his laughter echoing from the bathroom tiles. “You’re ridiculous!” He can’t stop laughing. “First of all, I don’t care if you’re a pillow princess or not. I’m having much fun with you, whether you do something or let me do all the work.” Harry leans forward and pecks Draco’s cheek. “Second of all… now that I think about it, I think the term pillow princess suits you exceptionally well.”
“Don’t you dare!” Draco snaps, upset. “Take that back!”
Harry’s laughter echoes through the bathroom as he quickly rushes out of the shower and to the towels on the bench on the left. Draco follows him closely, leaving water all over the floor. “Never.”
***
When Draco knocks on his door later that night, Harry already expects him.
This time, Harry cleaned the room as best as he could: he changed the bedsheets, cleaned the floor, organized his desk, and put all the clothes away. Proudly, Harry walks over to the door and lets Draco inside with a soft smile.
Looking shy but happy to see Harry, Draco steps inside, clutching a pillow to his chest. “Hi,” Draco breathes and turns to Harry.
“Hey,” Harry smiles back.
Draco clears his throat. “You still want me to sleep here?”
Harry nods. “Yes,” he tells him and steps closer to the bed. He pulls the blanket away and nods at Draco to step closer. He does, and Harry watches with a pleased flutter inside his chest how Draco slips under the covers and makes himself comfortable in Harry’s bed. Draco looks good in Harry’s bed. He should sleep here more often.
Harry quickly crawls under the covers, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him tightly against his chest. He presses a chaste kiss against Draco’s head and closes his eyes.
Stunned, Draco freezes. “Are you really going to sleep now?”
Confused, Harry pulls back and looks at Draco, puzzled. “It’s past midnight already,” he replies. "We have classes tomorrow. Why would we not go to sleep?”
Draco blushes. “I thought — I thought you invited me over so I could return the favor.”
This makes Harry frown. “I invited you over because I want to spend time with you,” he replies. “Because I want to sleep next to you. I don’t expect any favors from you.”
This makes Draco visibly relax, and he exhales in relief. “Oh,” he breathes. “I thought — I thought you only wanted me here for — you know.”
Harry shakes his head and tightens his arm around Draco’s waist. “No,” he replies in a firm tone. “No.”
Draco sinks against Harry’s chest and presses his forehead against Harry’s. “Sorry,” he whispers. “It seems like I expect the worst from you, but I don’t. I just find it hard to believe that we’re now spending time together. That you want to spend time with me.“
Harry gently cups Draco’s cheek and traces his soft skin with his fingertip. “I do want to spend time with you,” he reassures Draco. “And not just for blowjobs or handjobs or kisses in bathrooms.”
This makes Draco snort, amused. “Yeah, same, but I wouldn’t mind if we kept doing that.”
This makes Harry giggle. “Same.”
For a while, all they do is look at each other with soft eyes, holding each other, enjoying the other’s warmth. Harry feels his eyes getting heavier, and sleep slowly comes to take over him. With Draco, sleeping is easy. Sleeping is peaceful. Harry is glad that Draco is here.
“Goodnight, Harry,” Draco whispers and softly kisses his lips.
Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face.
***
The weeks pass by like a blur, and suddenly, it’s Christmas time, and Harry isn’t sure where the time went. It seems like it was yesterday that Draco stumbled into that bathroom and had interrupted Harry’s bath. But in reality, it’s been months.
Months that he spent with Draco.
Every day, Harry has spent time with Draco. Sometimes, they’re studying, sometimes they’re playing quidditch. Sometimes, they take naps together. Sometimes, they go on walks. Life is passing by like a blur, and suddenly, Harry isn’t draining the next day. He’s not in pain all the damn time. He’s looking forward to the weekends, and sometimes even the weekdays, too, because he gets to spend his days with Draco now, and god, does it feel good.
Draco is a wonderful companion and makes life at Hogwarts so much better. He understands Harry — whether they’re talking or keeping silent. And Draco makes Harry laugh so much, and he hasn’t laughed full-heartedly in so long.
For the first time in a long time, Harry feels like he’s in the right place and time with the right person. He can’t really describe it. It feels so right to be with Draco. Kissing him, touching him, talking to him, laughing with him — it feels so good.
“You seem happier,” Hermione says one day. She looks at Harry with thoughtful eyes, her bushy eyebrows drawn together, making her look even wiser than she usually looks. “So does Draco.”
Harry smiles softly, playing with the pen in his hand. Draco has another afternoon class, and Harry will leave soon to pick him up and study together. “I think we just get each other.”
Hermione hums, her brown eyes glistening knowingly. She looks like she knows something Harry doesn’t. “Yeah, maybe,” she says. “I mean, it seems like you match somehow.”
Harry hums in agreement, his eyes flickering over the parchment before him. He hasn’t written a word and is too busy thinking about Draco. Huh. “Yeah, I don’t know. It just — it just feels right.”
“Did you talk to Draco about that?”
“About what?”
“About you and him,” she says, flicking her wrist and making the tea kettle on the left float into the air. She then pours another cup of tea for them. “Together.”
“Together?” Harry asks, confused, and grabs the hot cup of tea.
Hermione rolls her eyes. “You can hook up all you want if that makes you happy, but don’t you think you two should talk about your future together?”
Harry doesn’t understand a single word. “Future together?”
Hermione sighs. “A relationship, Harry. That’s the term for two people spending every second together and hooking up all the time. A relationship.”
Harry blinks at her, stunned. He hasn’t really given much thought to that. A relationship.
All he was focused on was enjoying his time with Draco, but perhaps Hermione was right. Could this thing with Draco go even further? Could they be in a relationship?
Harry stares at the cup in his hands, his thoughts going wild.
“Have you really not considered a relationship?” Hermione asks, stunned. “I mean, you two are basically together already.”
“I didn’t really think about it, no,” Harry admits a soft blush covering his cheeks. Now, he feels quite silly. They are acting like a couple, and Harry hasn’t even noticed! They’ve been hanging out for months, walking around the castle like they’re together, and Harry didn’t even consider a relationship. He doesn’t even understand why. A relationship with Draco seems pretty amazing to Harry.
Spending every day with Draco, waking up together, and falling asleep together. Graduating from Hogwarts together, and maybe getting an apartment together. Harry softly smiles, imagining a future with Draco. After the war, Harry found it impossible to picture his future. Every time he tried to see himself in a few years, he saw nothing but grey and black. But now, suddenly, he sees Draco.
Draco brought him back to life. He made life pleasant and easy again. Draco understands Harry like no one does – not even Hermione and Ron. "I think," Harry mumbles, his brows drawn together, "I think I might be in love with Draco."
Hermione snorts. "You're only realizing that now?"
A deep blush covers Harry's cheeks, and he coughs, feeling slightly embarrassed because, yeah – he does only realize it now. He realizes he's in love with Draco Malfoy. Harry should probably talk to Draco about this.
***
It turns out that Harry doesn’t need to talk to Draco because Draco confronts Harry later that evening and catches Harry completely off guard.
“I think we should end things between us.”
Harry stares at Draco with huge eyes, not knowing what to say. His heart starts racing inside his chest, an ugly feeling growing inside his tummy, and he gulps several times. The bedroom is deadly silent, and Harry’s eyes flicker from the red bedsheets to the mess on the desk to the door and the poster on the wall, and eventually back to Draco.
Draco wants to end things.
Why?
Did Harry do something wrong? Did he mess things up? Anxiety bubbles inside Harry’s chest, and he clears his throat. “Why?”
Draco stares at his feet, unable to meet Harry’s eyes. “We — we spend so much time together. I — I don’t think that’s healthy.” His voice is small and timid, and he looks unsure. For some reason, Harry grows suspicious. Draco doesn’t actually want to end things, does he?
“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” Harry responds in a soft voice. He hasn’t given up hope yet. He needs to find out why Draco wants to end things with Harry. Maybe he can change his mind!
Surprised, Draco lifts his head, sad grey eyes meeting Harry’s. “Really?”
“Are you not happy?”
Draco presses his lips together. “I’m too happy,” he admits softly, his eyes moving to the ground again.
Too happy? Does that even exist? If Draco is happy, and if Harry is happy, what’s the freaking problem? “What does that mean?”
“It means that this thing between us has gone too far.” Draco stares at his feet, his hands nervously folded together.
Too far. Harry thinks they haven’t gone far enough. He’s not ready to end things. He wants to move things further.
But maybe Draco doesn’t feel the same way. Maybe he thinks they have went too far. Maybe he doesn’t want to move things further; doesn’t want a relationship. Harry’s heart breaks a little, and he gulps.
“Do you regret it?” Harry asks, carefully scanning Draco’s face for any negative emotion. He holds his breath, scared of Draco’s response.
Draco’s eyes flicker, unsure, and he clenches his jaw. He flares his nostrils. “That’s beside the point; I think we should —“
No. That’s not beside the point! Harry needs to know if Draco regrets this thing with Harry. He has to know if they still have a chance together. Harry steps into Draco’s space. He’s not ready to let Draco go. “Do you regret it?”
Now, the wizard lifts his head and stares at Harry with huge, grey eyes, looking vulnerable, unsure, and so shy. He gulps. “I —“
“Do you wish we never would’ve gotten intimate?” Harry asks. “Do you really think we went too far? Did you not like it when I touched you?”
Draco’s pupils dilate. Then, his eyes flutter shut. “It doesn’t matter if I liked it or not. It doesn’t matter what I think.”
“Yes, it does,” Harry argues. “It matters a lot.”
Draco sighs and closes his eyes. “Harry,” Draco whispers. “Please be realistic.”
“Realistic, how?”
“We can’t keep hooking up,” Draco says. “Where is this heading? We’ll have to stop sooner or later anyway. Christmas is right around the corner, and we won’t see each other for two weeks, and that made me realize that we should probably stop seeing each other altogether.”
“But why?” Harry asks, utterly confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Because this thing between us will stop anyway. Why not stop now when we haven’t hurt each other yet?”
“Who says we will hurt each other?”
“I know we will.”
“I won’t,” Harry protests, straightening his back. “I won’t hurt you.”
Draco’s eyes shimmer sadly. “Maybe not on purpose,” he whispers. “But I know you will hurt me.”
“Hurt you how?” Harry asks, desperate. He steps even closer. “Draco, how will I hurt you?”
After a long stretch of silence, Draco whispers: “You’ll break my heart.”
“I won’t,” Harry immediately protests. “I won’t.” Harry shakes his head. He’s not going to break Draco’s heart. Never. “Will you break mine?”
Draco tilts his head. “I might.”
“You’re breaking it right now,” Harry says, his voice breaking and showing how vulnerable he feels right now.
“Harry…”
“You’re ending something good just because you’re scared,” Harry says, pointing an accusing finger at Draco. He steps closer to him. “You’re scared because this is leading somewhere. Somewhere serious, somewhere good.”
“Yes,” Draco yells. “Because good doesn’t stay with me. It never has.”
“I’m staying,” Harry shouts and corners Draco against the wall. They’re now standing impossibly close. “I’m right here, and I’m staying.”
Draco closes his eyes again. “You’ll change your mind.”
Harry grabs Draco’s cheeks with both hands and forces him to look at him. “I’m not going to,” Harry says. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to push me away, but I’m not letting you. I’m not going anywhere.” He grabs Draco’s waist and pulls him in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around Draco’s slender body, Harry can feel how Draco practically melts against him, the tension leaving his body right away. Draco clutches Harry’s shirt, holding him tightly. He presses his nose against Harry’s neck and sniffs.
Harry rubs his hand over Draco’s back, trying to comfort him. “You’re not getting rid of me, Draco,” he whispers. “You should know how stubborn I am by now.”
Draco stays quiet, and Harry decides to simply hold him. It’s obvious that Draco isn’t ready to talk just yet, so all Harry will do for now is hold him in his arms. Time passes, and Harry isn’t sure how long they’re standing arm in arm, but Harry isn’t complaining. It feels good to hold Draco; he’ll gladly hold him for the rest of the night.
At some point, though, Harry lifts Draco by tightening his grip and carrying him toward the bed. They fall onto the mattress and stay intertwined. Draco hides in Harry’s arms. “Are you really not leaving?” He mumbles eventually, his voice soft and quiet.
“Never,” Harry reassures him, and he means it.
Draco pulls back to look at Harry with huge, grey eyes, his lashes still wet. “But — but you do know what that means, right?
Confused, Harry runs a fingertip over Draco’s cheek. “Enlighten me.”
“If you’re not leaving, then — I —“ Draco takes a deep breath. “If you’re willing to stay, you need to know that I don’t want to be one of your lovers,” Draco admits. “I don’t want that. I want a relationship at some point. I want a partner, someone I can rely on.”
Harry frowns in confusion. What on earth is Draco talking about? “I want that, too,” he says. “What made you think that I felt any different?”
Draco’s eyes flicker all across Harry’s face, looking shy. “You do?”
“Of course,” Harry snorts. He’s not sure if he finds the situation amusing or upsetting. “I don’t have any other lovers. I don’t want an affair. I want a relationship.”
“But — but you’re Harry Potter,” Draco stutters. His fingers clutch Harry’s shirt. “You could have anyone.”
“I don’t want anyone,” Harry says, slightly offended that Draco thinks Harry would be interested in sleeping with the whole world when, in reality, all he wants is to be with Draco. “I want you.”
“You do?”
Harry clicks his tongue in frustration. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says and gently pinches Draco’s cheek. "You’re lucky that I built a lot of patience with you over the years.” He leans forward and kisses Draco.
“Does that mean you do want a relationship with me?”
“Oh my god, Draco, you can’t be serious,” Harry nearly yells, losing his patience. He cups Draco’s cheeks with both hands and firmly kisses him. “I want you. I want to be with you. I want a relationship with you. Just you.” He stares at Draco. “Got it now?”
A pretty blush spreads all over Draco’s cheeks, and his lashes flutter. “I do,” he says. “I want you, too.”
“Yeah, I know,” Harry says. “The past weeks made that very obvious.”
Draco rolls his eyes and nudges Harry’s side. “Stop being mean.”
“You know how I am,” Harry says with a shrug, not feeling bad about teasing Draco at all. He’s still slightly offended that Draco really thought Harry would see him as one of his whores, but he tries not to be too upset about that. He knows that was probably just Draco’s insecurities speaking. He pulls back and cups Draco’s cheeks. What he’s about to say is important, but he knows it’s the right moment. He knows it deeply in his heart. “Draco,” he whispers. He stares into Draco’s eyes. “I love you.”
Draco’s reaction is funny: he blinks at Harry multiple times, stunned. First, he looks like he sees a ghost, pale face and mouth shaped into an o. Then, he looks scared. Then, his brows furrow together, and he looks slightly mad. In the end, his eyes fill with tears. “Are you serious right now, or are you making fun of me?”
“I’m dead serious,” Harry replies. “I’m in love with you.”
Draco gasps. “You love me?”
Harry groans and throws his head back. This can't be true! How on earth is Draco so delusional? Does he really not know how much Harry loves him? “Yes, Draco. Merlin, you can be annoying!”
Draco cups Harry’s cheeks and forces him to look at him. “Harry, I love you,” he nearly yells. Surprised by Draco's sudden outburst, Harry blinks. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Oh,” Harry breathes. He's not sure what he was expecting, but he didn't expect Draco to say it back. “Really?”
Draco snorts. “Of course I do,” he replies. “I thought you didn't love me back! I thought I was just your – your fuckbuddy or I don't know."
"What made you think that?" Harry yells, blinking at Draco in utter disbelief. Why on earth would Draco think that? "Did I give that impression?"
Shaking his head, Draco grabs Harry's hands. "No, you didn't," he reassures him. "You're actually perfect. How could I not fall in love with you?” He leans forward and kisses Harry firmly on the lips. “I love everything about you.”
With a soft smile, Harry wraps his arms around Draco’s slender body and presses them closer together. “And I love everything about you,” he whispers, kissing Draco’s neck. "So. Boyfriends?"
Draco lets out the cutest giggle – a sound he hasn't heard from him before – and nods. "Boyfriends."