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Winter was fast approaching, frost sparkling on the grounds each chilly morning, and the cold drafts throughout the castle prompted fires to be lit at all times. The eight year common room was generally full of students in the evenings, relaxing and conversing after a long day of classes. Inter-house relationships had been tense at first, but after a few months they realized that their similarities outweighed their differences. Even the former Slytherins had begun reaching outside their tight knit group,slowly dropping their condescending facades as they found they could be accepted for who they were.
Recently Draco had been avoiding the common room, nowhere to be seen after classes dismissed, just when he had been becoming more comfortable among the other students. Harry noticed his absence, as he noticed most things about Malfoy. It wasn’t in the obsessive way of previous school years. Harry didn’t think he was up to something, it was just more….habit at this point, he confessed. He found himself automatically scanning each room for a flash of white blond hair, his eyes constantly drawn to Malfoy if he was near. Quick, furtive glances; Harry couldn’t help himself and he wasn’t sure why. The animosity was gone - drained away by post-war trials and earnest, mumbled apologies - but another, stronger feeling remained, one that Harry was hesitant to focus on. They didn’t talk much, although their circles of friends had been interacting more often these days, throwing them together at various social events. They would catch each other’s eye and exchange a quick nod, a silent agreement to let the past lie and move on.
Harry was sitting in an armchair by the fire, gaze drawn to the common room entrance every few minutes, though, not for any particular reason, he had convinced himself. He unconsciously sat up a little straighter when he saw a familiar tall, slim figure enter the room, head down, blond hair falling down over his forehead and covering his eyes. Harry watched as Malfoy finally looked up and around the room, Malfoy’s eyes not focusing on anything in particular until they settled on the fireplace. Harry saw Malfoy’s face flush and his eyes widen as he stared at the fire, seemingly unable to look away. He came back to himself after a terse moment, took a deep shuddering breath, ripped his gaze from the roaring fire in the grate as he turned and fled up the stairs to the boys dormitory. Harry was on his feet before he could blink, heading up the stairs after Malfoy before he could think about what he was doing.
He didn’t have to go far to find Malfoy; he was right around the corner, sitting on the floor against the wall, hugging his knees tightly to his chest, his bag and its contents strewn across the floor next to him. His face was hidden, but Harry could see his back shaking and hear quiet sobs with desperate intakes of breath in between. Harry stood frozen in place. He almost turned right back around, sure that Malfoy wouldn't want Harry to see him like this. But at the same time, Harry was very familiar with what a panic attack felt like, he’d had his fair share and more after the war. He knew what it was like to feel completely alone, adrift in a vast dark sea without a single point of light in the distance. And he knew that he didn’t want Malfoy to feel that way, not if he could do anything about it. Harry approached slowly, quietly, and slid down with his back to the wall so he was sitting next to Malfoy, not yet close enough to touch, just close enough that Malfoy would know he was there.
“H-hey, Malfoy,” Harry stammered out softly.
Malfoy’s shoulders jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice, but he made no other acknowledgments to Harry’s presence. He turned his face away from Harry, his breathing still harsh but less frantic. “You don’t need to tell me anything about it, but I just want to sit here with you, if that’s okay?” Malfoy didn’t respond, and Harry took his silence to mean he was okay with Harry staying. At least, he hoped it was okay. “Whenever it all gets too much to handle, I know I don’t like to be alone. You don’t have to deal with everything alone, you know? A lot of us are going through the same things, since the - the war.” Harry kept his voice low and calm, talking to ease the awkwardness he felt creeping into his chest. “You can ask me for help, whenever you need it, Draco.” The name just slipped out, it felt right in this moment to let go of the last vestiges of their childhood rivalry.
Draco looked up at the sound of his name, fixing red-rimmed eyes on Harry’s face like he had never seen him before this moment. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, the gaze too intense for him to handle, and he looked down at his hands clasped in his lap. They sat quietly like that for a few minutes, before Draco finally spoke. Harry kept his eyes trained on his lap, not wanting to break the fragile trust Draco was displaying.
“I just....I can’t stand being anywhere near fire since that night. Seeing it brings everything back, and I - I panic. I can’t breathe.” Draco’s breath was quickening as he spoke, and Harry reached out a hand without a second thought. Wild flames, an overwhelming need to escape, and a tight grip around his waist featured prominently in many of his nightmares, causing him to wake up gasping and doused in sweat. Sometimes his panic would awaken Ron, who would sleepily stumble over to Harry’s bed and climb in without a word, draping one arm over Harry and falling almost immediately back into a deep slumber. Harry was grateful in those moments to have someone there with him, and he wanted to offer that same comfort to Draco.
“Shh, you don’t need to explain anything to me, not right now. Just breathe. You’re safe.” Harry spoke softly and rubbed small circles on Draco’s back until his breathing returned to normal and the tension left his shoulders. With one last heavy exhale, Draco slumped down with his head on Harry’s shoulder, exhausted beyond the point of caring about his vulnerable position. Harry laid his arm over Draco’s shoulders, laying his head atop Draco’s own.
“Thank you for being here, Harry.”
“Any time,” Harry replied. And he meant it. Harry knew in that moment that he would do anything so that Draco never felt alone again.