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It was so fucking frustrating. Having to watch him day in and day out. Laughing with his friends and enjoying life as much as he possibly could post war and Draco just loathed that Potter apparently adapted so easily. It was almost as if he didn't care. Draco couldn't take it anymore. He abruptly got up, leaving Blaise and other 8th year Slytherins behind. He stalked across the great hall and made a beeline for his hideout spot. He was delayed from having an anxiety attack by Pansy. She clearly didn't understand the meaning of the word no.
He ditched her as quick as possible and muttered outraged, under his breath. What the fuck was he doing here anyway? It's not as if anyone wanted him here. He heard the rumours, he was aware that people talked behind his back and sometimes, the more unapologetic or just asshole students talked about him as if he wasn't even in the room.
It was terrible but he couldn't, wouldn't let it get to him. He stopped in front of the room of requirements, although quite irreparably damaged, still of great use when required. All the room had to offer was solace and solitude and that is just what Draco needed.
He needed a breather. He shouldn't let Perfect Potter and his friends get to his head, especially since he found out much to his dismay, that he actually liked Potter's friends.
He stopped walking when he heard soft hushed sounds. He carefully walked up to the middle of the room. The room was filled only with piles of ash and burned down furniture and Potter, fucking Potter, was sitting against one, his knees pulled up to his chest and his palms pressed tightly into his eyes. Draco could see his shoulders shake and he knew he should leave Potter alone but he was intrigued. He found that he simply couldn't look away.
The boy who fixed everything now surrounded by broken down chairs and breaking down himself. Draco made the mistake of stepping on something and the serene silence ended. Potter's head snapped up and he quickly got himself together, standing up with such haste that he nearly fell into the big pile. Salty trails covered his quickly reddening cheeks and Potter looked down at the ground.
"I'm sorry, I know this is your stake out, I just- it was too much. I needed some quiet and I-" "Potter." Potter's head snapped back up and his green eyes pierced into his own. "What? I'm sorry okay, I know I'm supposed to be all kept together and without traumas. I'm sorry that I went here and I'm god damn sorry for caring when I shouldn't." His voice broke on that last word and his eyes filled with tears again. He harshly wiped away the droplet with the palm of his hand.
Draco took one careful and considerate step towards Potter. "Harry," they both froze. Draco mentally cursed himself. He shouldn't have fucking called him that. Although, it was just a name. But a name could hold so much power over someone and Draco knew this just as Potter did and Draco knew that as well.
Draco slowly took another step forward until he reached Potter. "Harry. It's okay. No-one expects you to have it all sorted out okay?" Potter's shoulders shocked and Draco awkwardly placed his hand on Potter's shoulder. Potter froze and looked at Draco. "I'm the Boy Who Lived. I should have it all together. I'm being stupid and-" Draco didn't think. He carefully pressed his lips on Potter's and Potter stopped talking like Draco had intended. Potter stepped into Draco's body, Draco carefully cupped Potter's cheeks and pulled him closer. He knew that this was a mistake but he had wanted it for so long now. Harry was kissing him back. "Draco, I-" Potter said as he pulled away, out of breath for entirely different reasons now. "Let's face this. Together."