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When Harry wakes up, it takes him a moment to familiarise himself with his surroundings. It takes him a while to place the white ceiling, the harsh too-bright lights that seem to momentarily blind him and when he does realise where he is, he groans. St. Mungos. Just perfect.
He tries to sit up, tries to evaluate the damage done. Wriggles his toes and moves his feet. Something in his left leg burns. He hasn’t noticed the figure sitting next to his bed and flinches when the figure moves.
“Potter,” he says softly and Harry looks at him.
Draco Malfoy. His former school rival, his current Auror partner is sitting next to him looking completely disheveled.
Harry sits up a little straighter. “Hi,” he goes for a smile and remembers the potions ring they were trying to take down. Their first big assignment. Figures that he’d fuck that up spectacularly and land himself in hospital. The chosen one indeed.
“What happened?”
“They threw hexes at you. One hit you square in the quest and another one grazed your ear I think,” Draco clears his throat and stands up, leaning over Harry to look at his left ear.
“Backup arrived and I was able to floo you right here.”
He sounds composed. He drawls his words with an air of aloofness that Harry as always admired. But then he sees it. One single tear makes its way out of Draco’s red-rimmed eye and rolls down his cheek slowly.
Harry doesn’t even think about it, he is overwhelmed with the knowledge that Draco has been taking care of him. Has been sitting next to him for god knows how long and who was now crying because Harry was in Hospital. He cups Draco’s cheeks in both hands and lets his thumb caress Draco’s cheekbone.
“Draco,” he whispers. It is a broken sound even to his own ears. He leans forward and presses his lips to the spot where the tear was making its way down, effectively kissing it away. Harry leans back a bit, to look at his partner.
Draco is staring at him intently, a blush creeping onto his pale features. His mouth wobbles slightly as if he is about to properly cry any second.
Harry doesn’t hesitate for a second before he covers Draco’s quivering lips with his. It is soft and comforting - it is wonderful, Harry thinks.
When Harry breaks the kiss so he can look at Draco again, he says: “Thank you,” and then, because this is even more important, he whispers: “Don’t cry.”
Draco’s eyes dart between his eyes and his mouth and back again. He licks his lips and frees himself of Harry’s hold, plopping back down on his visitors chair.
“I thought you were dead. The one hex, there was… this green light and… when it hit you and you fell to the ground, I…”
He hugs his knees in an attempt to comfort himself.
“But I’m not,” Harry grins.
“I’m here. Because you were with me and you saved me.”
Draco looks at him intently and finally nods.
“You save me always.”
He disentangles his arms and his legs again in favour to stand over Harry once more. This time, it’s Draco who covers the distance. Draco whose hands find their way into Harry’s messy hair. Draco who kisses Harry as if this was their last chance. To Harry, it’s perfect. And he won’t let this go anytime soon.