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The Boy Who Lived. The Boy Who Lived Twice. The Saviour of the Wizarding World. What did these titles actually mean? What good had they brought to Harry’s life? He had lost his Mother and Father, Sirius and Remus, among many others. Yes, he had gained a new family, but what was the cost?
Harry couldn’t sleep. How could he? No matter how exhausting his day had been, dealing with the mountains of revision for his NEWTs, with Hermione’s extra work, with whatever the teachers had assigned, he just simply couldn’t sleep. Images of what had gone on the past year haunted him, voices of those he had lost narrating his nightmares, empty promises he had made creeping through his subconscious. Most of the other students seemed to be settling into their post-war lives nicely (well, nicely considering the circumstances), whether they had decided to return to Hogwarts to sit their seventh year properly or whether they had ventured out into the adult world.
Harry gazed over at Ron, who was sprawled, fast asleep, on the bed next to his. Why was it only Harry who was haunted by the past? Hermione was working harder than ever to attain the grades she needed to become a healer for St Mungo’s, Ron was working hard with Hermione’s help to become an auror, but Harry was distant; school didn’t seem like the most important thing anymore.
There was no point in lying in bed any longer, so Harry slipped out of bed and out of the dorm down to the eighth-year common room. After the war, McGonagall hadn’t seen the point in splitting up the eighth-year houses. The old rivalries had no value any more, so it seemed pointless to return the students to their old house dormitories.
When Harry descended from the stairs, he hadn’t expected anybody to still be awake, it must have been two in the morning. Yet there he was, curled up in an arm chair in front of the fire, bags under his eyes and a distant look on his face. Draco Malfoy. He hadn’t noticed Harry walk in at first, and Harry debated sneaking back up the Gryffindor staircase. Something held him back, however, and instead Harry walked over and perched himself in the armchair opposite Malfoy’s. This seemed to draw Malfoy out of his trance, his eyes lifting to meet Harry’s.
“What do you want, Potter?” He sneered, yet Harry couldn’t help but think his heart wasn’t in it. Harry shrugged, slouching further into the armchair.
“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think anyone else would be up.” Harry answered, his gaze drifting to the fire. Malfoy didn’t respond for a while, a silence settling between the two.
“I couldn’t sleep either.” Malfoy said after a few minutes. Harry could feel Malfoy’s gaze on him but couldn’t bring himself to meet the other boy’s eyes. “Look-,”
“Malfoy-,” Harry brought his gaze back to Malfoy, who had an indistinguishable look on his face. Malfoy nodded for Harry to continue, “Sorry, uh, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Malfoy gave Harry an incredulous look, his mouth agape. “Why are you apologising to me? After everything that happened in the- in the war?” Malfoy paled, his voice seeming less sure than Harry had ever heard it.
“I don’t hold any of that against you Malfoy- why else would I have testified for you in the trials? I wanted to apologise for acting like a, well like a dick to you for all those years. Our rivalry, well I don’t know about you, but I regret how I treated you, especially-you know, sixth year... I was hoping you could forgive me, and we could maybe even have a fresh start?” Harry had been thinking of this for quite a while but had never found the right time to approach Malfoy about it. The sudden realisation of what he had said hit him, and he turned his head away bashfully, feeling heat rush up his neck.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that at 2am on a Tuesday.” Malfoy jested, letting out a huff of amusement. “I don’t agree that you should be the one apologising… but, I accept your apology, Potter. I’m sorry too, I think a fresh start would be nice.” Malfoy knocked his ankle against Harry’s, and Harry brought his gaze back up to meet Malfoy’s. They sat for a while, bashful smiles plastered on their faces and a slightly awkward silence hanging in the air.
Perhaps the war had changed them, changed studying at Hogwarts, but this was a change that Harry could live with. Perhaps it was time to let go of old rivalries and pettiness and let something good come out of the war. Perhaps Malfoy, his new friend(?), could be that something good for him.
---
Hermione and Ron were worried. The two had been spending more time together lately, the war was over, and they could finally spend time together as a couple. In all fairness, most of that time was spent studying Arithmancy or Transfiguration or Astronomy, but that was besides the point. It wasn’t that they didn’t bloody love spending time with Harry, but they just wanted some quality ‘alone time’. They thought Harry would spend his time without them with the other Gryffindors, or studying, maybe even making some new friends. They had never expected one of those new friends to be Draco Malfoy of all people. So yes, they were worried. Was Malfoy planning something? Had Harry gone a bit mad in the aftermath of it all? Had Harry been hexed?
He seemed perfectly normal during meals; chatting animatedly with Ron about Quidditch, begging to borrow Hermione’s potions notes because his were illegible, eating more than an 18-year-old should be able to.
It had been three weeks since Malfoy and Harry had made amends, and the two were sticking to their agreement of having a fresh start. Firstly, the two had sat together in potions to work together on their task. The conversation had flowed smoothly, and Harry found that potions was a lot easier with Malfoy who seemed to know what he was doing (with decidedly less explosions as well). It was also nice talking to Malfoy, with him not acting like an utter arse to Harry. Secondly, the two had started studying together in the common room, much to everyone’s surprise. Blaise and Pansy had been very apprehensive, laughing as Harry helped Malfoy with his Muggle Studies homework (Malfoy was really trying, bless him), and as Malfoy laughed at Harry for not knowing 2nd year Potions content. Finally, they had taken to staying up late at night, after everyone else had retired for the evening, chatting or reading or drinking tea by the fire. Sleep didn’t seem to come as easy to the two of them anymore, and having each other’s company seemed like a much better option than laying alone in bed with nothing but their thoughts.
There was once a time that Harry would have been spilling all of Malfoy’s secrets to Ron and Hermione, but not anymore.
Once the initial shock had blown over of their friendship, Harry found his circle of friends expanding once more, as Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Goyle took to joining the two’s study sessions. Working with the Slytherins was refreshing, Harry found. It allowed a competitive streak to blossom in him that he had never had studying before. Yes, he was a very competitive person by nature, especially when it came to Malfoy. Their new friendship hadn’t changed that, but now the competition was healthier. Normally when studying, however, Harry couldn’t give a rat’s arse what grades he gets compared to other people. Now he found that the competitive element gave him motivation to study, and it was more enjoyable.
One evening as Harry and the Slytherins studied on a table by the far wall, Ron and Hermione pulled Harry to the side for a quick conversation.
“You alright Harry mate?” Ron asked, shifting uncomfortably with Hermione by his side.
“Yeah, why?” Harry was puzzled. He thought Hermione and Ron would be happy that he was making new friends after the year he has had.
“Well, we’re just a bit worried about you Harry. I know you’ve- struggled, this past year. Your new friendship with Malfoy is just a bit unorthodox. We wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Hermione assured Harry, stepping forward to rest her hand on his arm. Harry found his eyebrows drawing down irritably; they hadn’t seemed to care much about Harry while they were going off to God knows where and leaving Harry on his own.
“I’m fine ‘mione. Malfoy’s okay, a good mate actually. If you don’t trust my judge of character, why don’t you two come to Hogsmeade with us on Saturday?” Harry shrugged away his annoyance. It felt wrong to be angry at Hermione and Ron after everything they had been through. He just hoped Malfoy would be okay with going to Hogsmeade with them all on Saturday if Hermione and Ron agreed.
Hermione beamed, “That sounds lovely Harry! It’ll be like a double date.” Ron snickered at this, jabbing Harry in the arm.
“I knew you and Malfoy were getting closer Harry, but I didn’t realise you were getting that close!” Ron began to guffaw loudly, drawing the attention of the remaining students in the common room. Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks at the insinuation, hoping the two didn’t notice.
“Ha ha very funny Ronald, would you like me to tell Hermione about that ti-” Ron stopped laughing, his eyes wide as he dashed to cover Harry’s mouth.
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t you dare.” He hissed. Hermione shook her head at the two, an amused smile pulling at her lips.
“What can’t Harry tell me Ron?” Ron smiled nervously, pulling away from Harry.
“How much I adore you babe. Shall we go back to the library now?” Hermione seemed pleased enough with the answer, though Harry guessed that Ron might have to give a more believable response later. Harry laughed at the two, muttering a goodbye before he returned to his seat.
“What was that about, Potter?” Malfoy asked in a bored tone, his attention focused on the essay in front of him. Harry watched as Malfoy wrote about the uses of Unicorn hair, admiring the flawless curves of his handwriting.
“Just checking in.” Harry turned his attention back to his own essay, he had about 7 inches of scroll left to fill in. “They also wanted to know if you wanted to come to Hogsmeade with the three of us on Saturday.” Harry wasn’t quite sure why his stomach flipped uneasily as he waited for Malfoy to reply. He didn’t dare look up at Malfoy's quizzical face, and he dreaded to think of what his own must look like right now with how nervous he felt.
“What’s the occasion?” Interest definitely clung to Malfoy’s voice, Harry grew more confident at this.
“No occasion- you just have to get the Romione Approval in order for this friendship to continue, you see.” Harry jested, lifting his eyes to meet Malfoy’s, a smirk already pulling at his mouth.
Malfoy raised his eyebrows, lifting his hand to cup his chin as if in thought. “Hmm, approval for Potter’s friendship? That’s a lot of hassle now isn’t it.” Malfoy laughed heartily at pout that took over Harry’s face. “Fine, fine, I’ll go. What happens if I don’t get approved?”
“Then I’ll be friends with you anyway.”
Malfoy smiled, nudging Harry’s knee with his own. “How kind. I’ll come on Saturday. Just don’t expect me to give them any special treatment.”
Harry laughed, “Never.”
“Can you two please stop flirting now? This essay is due tomorrow and it’s already half 9.” Pansy whined, stress pulling at her eyebrows. The two boys apologised, insisting that they were most definitely not flirting. Harry couldn’t stop lifting his gaze to Malfoy while he finished his essay, however. Saturday was going to be interesting.
---
Malfoy was screwed. So bloody screwed. Why had he agreed to go to Hogsmeade with the Weasley couple and Potter anyway? Potter had some kind of effect on him, one he wasn’t most pleased with. Malfoy had been prepared for anything he might face this year; his friends turning away from him, judgemental scowls in the corridor, confrontations about his past. He hadn’t been prepared for Potter to ask to be friends, to apologise to him with a lopsided grin on his face, to treat him better than some of his actual friends treated him.
It was a pleasant surprise, the friendship. Though initially shocking, it was nice not to worry about his ‘rivalry’ with Potter. He found that when they weren’t insulting each other, Potter was actually quite good company. It had taken months, even years, to build his past friendships to the same level of trust- but Potter had slotted himself into his life in mere weeks. It scared him a bit, how dependent he had become on Potter’s presence in his life. Studying with him, working with him in class, confiding in him.
Malfoy still had doubts; how could golden boy Potter truly accept someone with a moral compass as fucked as Malfoys is? How could he forgive someone who had done all of those dreadful things in the war? When would this fantasy of having Harry bloody Potter as a friend finally collapse? He couldn’t think like that. Not when Potter had become such a large part of his life. It had all happened so quickly: going from hating Potter and his privilege and his ‘how can I save the world today?’ attitude to spending most of his spare time with Potter, who acted as if Malfoy was his favourite bloody person in the world. Malfoy struggled to get his head around their blossoming friendship as it is. So, when Malfoy sat a week prior, Potter at his side working on a Transfiguration essay, eyebrows scrunched in concentration and his teeth tugging at his lip in thought, Malfoy was aghast at his own attraction to the boy.
Potter was his friend for Merlin’s sake, and Malfoy couldn’t even be his friend properly. Malfoy had noticed how attractive Potter was before, it was hard to miss. It was a completely different thing to be attracted to him though. Perhaps the friendship was happening too fast? And Malfoy had got confused? Needless to say, Malfoy had gone to bed that night frustrated at himself, at Potter, and after he had had a thorough wank, frustrated at himself even more.
Now he had to go on a trip to Hogsmeade with Weasley and Granger who would undoubtedly be obnoxiously cute and loved up, and he would be left with Potter. It sounded like a double date already, Merlin knows what it will look like to other people. He had put Potter through enough when they became friends- he wasn’t thick, he’d heard the rumours that had been spread about the two of them. He had got used to them by now, the rumours about himself and his family, but with Potter it was different. Because he didn’t deserve to have comments spread around about him, he had been nothing but chivalrous to Malfoy despite everything that had happened, annoyingly so. His trip with them to Hogsmeade would likely birth more rumours built on half-truths, and Malfoy wasn’t sure if he could handle that.
Even so, he wasn’t sure if he could handle being put in that situation with Potter. He was a stubborn, strong-willed man, that he was sure of. But he wasn’t sure how his self-control would fair against Potter if anything happened; what if he did something he’d regret?
Perhaps he should just fake an illness, or homework, and try and get out of the trip? Anything to preserve his friendship with Potter, it was the best thing that had happened to him for a long time.
---
Malfoy had been acting strangely, and Harry wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe he didn’t want to go with him, Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade after all? In the mornings Malfoy normally waited for Harry in the common room before going down to breakfast, but this morning Harry found that Malfoy had gone on ahead without him. In Potions, Malfoy had sat at the other side of the classroom next to Pansy Parkinson, leaving Harry to sit with Ron and Hermione awkwardly. When Harry had mouthed to Malfoy ‘are you okay?’, Malfoy had simply nodded and avoided eye contact with Harry for the rest of the lesson. After dinner, Harry had sat at his and Malfoy’s usual table to study on; but Malfoy simply floated past him with his head averted and left the common room.
Harry couldn’t concentrate on his Potions revision. Every time the portrait hole opened, Harry would turn his head in the hopes of seeing a flash of pale blond hair, a lanky figure in green robes, but it never was. People filtered out of the common room as people retired for the night, or since it was a Friday some people went for drinks in the Hufflepuff dorms. It grew later and yet Malfoy had not yet returned to the common room, by midnight the last people were clearing out to their respective rooms, and Harry was left alone, on his table by the fire, Potions notes discarded unread across the table.
He pondered whether or not Malfoy had snuck in, and whether or not Harry had missed him. It was late, and Harry’s eyelids felt heavy. He had his Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, so it was probably a good idea to head to bed and try and get some sleep. He began to shuffle his notes together, an ache in his chest as he glanced at the portrait hole one more time. Just as he stood up from his chair, the entrance to the common room opened. Malfoy looked dishevelled as he slumped through the opening, his robe in his hand, tie undone loosely around his neck and shirt untucked. Harry had never seen him like this; he was normally so proper and neat and well, not this. It was a good look on him, Harry found himself thinking, before shaking the thought out of his head.
“Potter, what are you still doing up?” Malfoy’s eyes widened as he saw Harry.
Harry was unsure what to say, and he was unsure of how Malfoy would react if he knew the truth. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, you seemed off today.”
Malfoy looked guarded, staring at Harry as he searched for the right thing to say. “I, uh-” He racked his brain for anything that he could tell Harry, shifting his footing awkwardly. “I’m just nervous for tomorrow is all. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, Potter.”
Harry shook off what Malfoy had called him, though he could feel heat rising steadily to his cheeks. “Why are you nervous?”
“I suppose I’m just nervous about spending time with Granger and Weasley. You and I have made amends, but I never did apologise to them, especially Granger, for how I treated them.” Malfoy explained, turning his head away from Harry.
This new information made Harry feel awful- he has spent so much time assuming what Malfoy was thinking, what he was feeling, but Malfoy was just scared. It warmed Harry, to think of how lovely and real and honest Malfoy was. He took a step forward, putting his hand on Malfoys shoulder in what he hoped would be a supportive gesture. “I can tell you honestly that they don’t hold grudges, well, they aren’t holding a grudge against you at least. I think the best thing you could do is exactly what you just said; apologise. Tomorrow will be fine. Don’t stress about it. And if not, I, your Prince Charming, will come to your rescue.”
The tension in Malfoy’s shoulders disappeared as they shook with laughter, a light pink hue on his pale cheeks. “Prince Charming? You? I think I’d be put in bloody Hufflepuff before that happened.” Harry smiled, glad to see that Malfoy was back to his usual self. “I think you’re probably right. I’ll apologise before breakfast.” He gave Harry a grateful smile, which Harry gladly returned.
Tomorrow was going to be fine. Malfoy was fine, Harry was fine, they would be fine. He just prayed that Ron wouldn’t be a git when Malfoy apologised.
---
The apology went about as you’d imagine: Ron stood there awkwardly, shook Malfoy’s hand reluctantly and then complained to Harry about Malfoy’s bony hands. Hermione got emotional, enveloping Malfoy in a tight hug and reassuring him that he was forgiven, as long as he wasn’t an arse again. Malfoy looked over Hermione’s head with a pleading look, but Harry and Ron just snickered.
Breakfast was normal, except Malfoy had accepted the trio’s offer to sit at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. The Slytherins shot Malfoy puzzled looks. It was one thing to be friends with Potter now, but it was a completely different thing to sit on a different house’s table at meal times. The Gryffindor’s were even worse, it seemed not everyone had warmed up to Malfoy. Malfoy could deal with it though, for Harry. The Slytherin table had always been rather quiet and tense at meal times. He adored his fellow house-mates, it wasn’t their fault, it just is as it is. At the Gryffindor table, or at least with Harry and his friends, it had always looked so friendly and fun and just content. Malfoy decided he liked it, sitting with Potter at breakfast while he shoved treacle tarts in his mouth as Hermione scolded him for an unhealthy breakfast and Ron dared him to see how many he could fit in his mouth.
After breakfast, they headed to Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry chatted animatedly about what they would do, while Hermione and Draco walked ahead talking about the recent Arithmancy test. It was humbling, how domestic the situation was. After shopping for more supplies for school, then paying the Honeydukes a very expensive visit, they decided to go to The Hog’s Head for butter beer.
Harry and Malfoy sat together on one side of the booth, Hermione and Ron on the other. Malfoy couldn’t help but notice how couple-y it was, sitting here besides Potter, their legs brushing together. Hermione and Ron were cuddled together, their drinks long forgotten as they indulged in each other’s company. Harry took a sip of his drink, and Malfoy couldn’t hep but notice how pretty Harry was. His jaw was strong, his green eyes flicking around the room, his messy hair curling at the nape of his neck. The warm, low lighting mixed with the warmth of Malfoy’s drink and Harry so close to him was doing strange things to Malfoy’s head.
“I think we can officially call you an honorary Gryffindor,” Harry said to Malfoy, Hermione and Ron lost in their own conversation.
“You wish Potter. I’m a Slytherin through and through.” Malfoy shot back, watching the competitive flare that flickered on Harry’s face. “You on the other hand, have integrated quite well into the Slytherins if I do say so myself.” Malfoy turned his body towards Harry, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Is that so?” Harry quirked his eyebrow, imitating Malfoys action before tilting his head down, his fringe flopping on his face. “Well, the sorting hat did want to put me in Slytherin at first, so it doesn’t really surprise me.” Malfoy’s eyes opened wide at that.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Nope.” Harry replied, popping the ‘p’ and looking back up at Malfoy bashfully. “It only put me in Gryffindor because I asked not to be put in Slytherin.”
“Are you telling me that you could have been put in my house? We could have been sharing a dorm for the past 7 years? Could have been friends for 7 years instead of pulling each other’s pigtails?” Malfoy was shocked, confused and quite frankly annoyed, his head dizzied as he imagined all of the lost possibilities. Perhaps things would have turned out differently for the two of them if Harry had been put in Slytherin. Perhaps Malfoy would have had a chance with Harry.
Harry chuckled, taking a drink before nudging Malfoy’s knees with his own. “Maybe. I do quite enjoy ‘pulling your pigtails’ though.”
Malfoy smiled, leaning forward to tug a lock of Harry’s hair. “I think pigtails would rather suit you, Potter.” Malfoy enjoyed the flush that appeared on Harry’s cheeks.
Harry began to reply but was cut off by Hermione and Ron laughing. “Interesting flirting skills,” Ron joked, punching Harry lightly in his arm. The colour on Harry’s cheeks deepened, and Malfoy dreaded to think of what his own face looked like.
Harry stuttered out a quick ‘Shut up Ron’, before going and getting another round of drinks. Malfoy noted that Harry hadn’t denied anything, but soon stored away the flicker of hope that had arisen. There was no point getting hung up on someone that wasn’t interested. Hermione gave Malfoy a small, knowing smile. Perhaps Malfoy wasn’t as discreet as he thought he was.
---
Malfoy was laid on Harry’s bed, back against the headboard, reading a book on the History of Wandless Magic. Harry decided that he liked this new advance in their friendship- Draco accompanying Harry to his room. He looked rather good sprawled on his bed sheets.
Harry pulled the emerald jumper over his head, giving himself a once over in the mirror. His hair was still a mess, even though he’d spent a good half an hour trying to get it to sit right.
“Green suits you, Potter.” Malfoy commented from the bed, looking up from his book to let his eyes roam over Harry’s body. “Perhaps not enough to condone you eye-fucking your reflection though.”
Harry snickered, walking over to flop down on the bed next to Malfoy. “That’s rich coming from you, I swear it took you 3 hours to get ready before you came here.” Malfoy shrugged, lowering his gaze to meet Harry’s.
“Hmm maybe. But I’d say it was 3 hours well spent- look how good I look Potter,” Malfoy could not deny the colour that flooded to Harry’s cheeks as he looked Malfoy up and down, and he felt the spark of hope blossom in him once more. “See?”
“Touché.” Harry nodded, getting up from his position on the bed. Malfoy watched as he spritzed his cologne and grabbed a bottle of fire whiskey from under his bed. “It’s about 8, I think the party started in the common room at 7.30? So we should be good to go down now.” Malfoy nodded, putting his book down on Harry’s bedside table.
He wasn’t quite sure how Harry had managed to persuade him that going to this party would be a good thing. He found it hard to keep his feelings for Harry secret while sober, never mind drunk. Even worse, he knew what Harry was like when he was drunk, and he wasn’t sure how that would play out. It probably would have been a better idea to spend their Saturday night studying, yet here he was in his best shirt and trousers, walking into a party with Harry bloody Potter. He was already mentally preparing himself for all the bad choices he would likely make tonight, but it was too late to back out now.
Harry grabbed two glasses from a table, looking around the room for his friends. By the fire, Pansy, Blaise and Theo sat, beckoning the two boys over. Harry held out his arm to Malfoy, “Shall we?”, wearing the most adorable grin ever and Malfoy felt drunk already. He took Harry’s arm and the two made their way over to the Slytherins.
The two boys started drinking; it seemed everyone else had been drinking for a while, so they had some catching up to do. An eventful game of never have I ever led to Malfoy and Harry getting drunk rather fast, and some very interesting secrets came out. All 5 of them had, at one point, had a crush on someone of the same gender (this was very reassuring to a certain two of them); Pansy on Hermione, Blaise on Ron, and the others were rather shy at disclosing that information. Some first times were discussed, embarrassing events spilled, each new revelation earning them a shot. By 11, Harry was feeling remarkably lighter than when he had entered the room. The bottle of fire whiskey sat emptied at their feet, and a pleasant numbness settled around them. Pansy, Theo and Blaise said their goodbyes soon after, and Harry watched as they stumbled over to some Ravenclaw’s and began drinking with them instead. Harry’s head felt slightly dizzy, how could they go drink even more?
Malfoy slumped onto Harry’s shoulder, humming pleasantly, a pink hue on his cheeks. Harry looked down at the boy with his head on Harry’s shoulder, watched his pale lashes flutter closed against his cheeks, his lips parted with a content sigh. Harry had never seen him look quite this peaceful. It was a good look on him. “Draco,” Harry mumbled, trying to get up without jostling the blond too much. Harry realised his mistake when he saw Draco, Malfoy, stiffen. His shoulders tensed, his eyes flickered open, resting on Harry’s. “Oh, um, sorry Dra- Malfoy.” Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot.
Malfoy sat in shocked silence for a moment, before pushing himself up to stand next to Harry. He grabbed Harry’s arm and began to pull him across the room, murmuring “You’re drunk. I’m taking you back to your dorm.” Harry cursed at himself internally; he had definitely screwed this whole thing with Malfoy up.
Malfoy dragged Harry into the room, shutting the door loudly behind them. Harry stood awkwardly by his bed, looking at his shoes. “Hey,” Malfoy took a step closer to Harry, reaching his hand out. “Hey,” Harry didn’t dare look up from his shoes, Malfoy took another step closer. “Hey, Harry.” Harry’s head shot up at this. Malfoy never called him Harry, never. It was always Potter this and Potter that, but never Harry. “Look, it’s okay, you can call me,” Malfoy reached for Harry’s hand, taking it in his own. “You can call me Draco.” The look they shared was intense, it made Harry’s toes curl in anticipation. “In all honesty I’ve been thinking about you as Harry for a while now, it’s just, in pureblood families, it’s an important thing, a first name. Not just anybody is supposed to use it, only those who you regard as dear to you, and well-,” Draco was rambling, and he knew it, but he couldn’t make himself stop. Harry was standing there and not bloody saying anything, standing there with his face all scrunched up and cute in thought and how had Draco managed to fuck this up now. He knew this was a bad idea and he did it any-
Harry pulled Malfoy forward by the hand that was still holding his, his other hand falling to Draco’s hip. His face pulled into a soft smile, and he was sighing “Draco,” and leaning forward and Draco wasn’t sure if this was still real or not. Was this a dream? Had he got too drunk and passed out? Had one of the others slipped something into his or Harry’s drink? His lips were so close to Draco’s now, Draco could feel Harry’s breath warm against his skin. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and Draco knew this had to be true because never in a million years could his dreams feel this real.
Just as Harry brushed his lips against Draco’s, the door slammed open and the two had to jump apart. Dean came sauntering into the room, singing loudly before falling onto Seamus’s bed and passing out. Harry laughed, and Draco was brought back to reality.
He didn’t deserve Harry. Harry didn’t deserve to be lumped with him. Before anything else could happen, he grabbed his book from the bedside table and bounded out of the room.
---
Harry had really blown it this time. Out of all of the stupid things to do, he picked the absolute stupidest thing and then multiplied it by 100. How could he fix this? He wasn’t sure he could fix this.
His sleep was getting bad again, without Malfoy’s company he was left to his own thoughts once more. It was scary really, how dependent Harry was on Malfoy’s company, and how quickly Malfoy had become so close to him.
A week had gone by, but Malfoy had said nothing. No rumours had been spread, maybe that was a good sign? There had been no sneers sent his way by the Slytherin, Malfoy was pointedly avoiding Harry, no matter how much Harry tried to catch his eye. Ron and Hermione had been giving him worrying looks, spending more time with him than usual. Harry was grateful, he really was, but it just wasn’t the same being with the two of them. He missed Malfoy, as much as he hated to admit it.
It was Sunday night, and Harry had finished all of his assignments for the week. Hermione had offered to give Harry some help with a 6th year Potions topic that he couldn’t get his head around, but his mind was wandering, and he couldn’t concentrate. Studying the subject just wasn’t the same now that he had experienced it with Malfoy. After apologising to Hermione, he left the library to walk around the grounds. Perhaps the fresh air might clear his head.
It had been a while since Harry had been this bad, but left in his own company, all of the horrors of the war he had tried desperately to supress were rising. One of the only good things in his life was screwed- and he was completely at fault. Completely. Anger burned in the pit of his stomach at himself- how could he be s thick? Why would he ruin his friendship over something he had already resigned himself to believing impossible? He kicked stray stones around the grass and into the lake, needing to do something to alleviate his frustration. He vowed to stay away from bloody fire whiskey for a while, and he vowed to give Malfoy the space he clearly wanted.
He didn’t get much sleep that night.
---
“I’m worried about Harry, Ron.” Neither she or Ron had seen much of Harry since the party, and when they did see him he was distant. “He’s acting how he did when it first ended, before we came back to school.”
“It’s that bloody Malfoy twat- we told him to be careful around him. Seems old habits do die hard.” Ron lowered his voice a they passed some first years, Hermione dragging him off to Transfiguration.
“No, I don’t think that’s it. Have you looked at Malfoy? He seems to be as bad off as Harry.” She wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but Hermione assumed it was a mutual upset. Perhaps another Slytherin had said something? Or Gryffindor? Perhaps Malfoy’s family? A misunderstanding? “Either way, it doesn’t see like Harry’s going to talk- and I refuse to let him wallow in self pity again. I’m going to talk to Malfoy tonight and try and sort this out.”
“’Mione, do you really think that-“ Ron began, but was soon cut off as Hermione spun around, a determined look seared on her features.
“It’s all we’ve got Ron! Will you try and cheer Harry up, please?”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s about time I kick his arse at Quidditch again anyway.” There really was no dissuading Hermione when she put her mind to things, and perhaps it would be good for Harry.
“More like Ginny kick both your arses.” Hermione countered, a smirk pulling at her lips. Ron stood there, mouth agape and twitching, while she sauntered off towards the classroom.
“Wha-Wait!”
---
It had taken three hours to find Malfoy after dinner, three! Harry had better be bloody grateful for all of that missed revision time. The bags under Malfoy’s eyes when she did resemble that of his in 6th year, and concern flooded through her at the sight.
“So, Malfoy. Do you fancy explaining to me while you and Harry are off moping alone instead of scheming in the wee hours together?” Malfoy flinched at Hermione’s sudden appearance, but soon recovered, putting his Arithmancy book down.
“No ‘hello, how are you today my dear friend?’” The look Hermione fixed Malfoy was not to ignore. He gestured at the chair in front of him, mentally preparing himself for the wrath that was Hermione Granger.
“Spill. I know something happened at that party,” she really didn’t, but hopefully her speculation wasn’t wrong. “I also know you and Harry also both miss each other. Let me know and I can help you resolve it.” The look Hermione gave Malfoy was one he had never had directed at him before- genuine concern, a desire to help. He spent a few seconds weighing up his options- but he knew what he wanted.
Malfoy sighed dejectedly, clasping his hands together on the table before resting his head on them. “He kissed me. He was drunk, and he kissed me.” It came out as barely a whisper, but he was sure Hermione had heard it. It felt strange and foreign on his tongue, saying it out loud, as if fake, as if it didn’t really happen. He knew it did though; how could he forget?
Hermione was frankly shocked: it was clear to most how these two feel about each other, but she hadn’t expected a first move so soon. It was also hard to engage Malfoy’s feelings about the matter- she couldn’t see his face, and his voice didn’t give much away. “Is that… a good thing? A bad thing? Do you like him too?”
“I don’t know- it’s a thing that happened. He was drunk and Merlin I let myself get my hopes up and. And. Wait, what do you mean ‘too’?” Malfoy’s head shot up so fast, Hermione feared he might break his neck. She couldn’t help the giggles that fell past her lips at his flabbergasted look.
She let out a frustrated sigh, dragging her hand down her face. “Dear Lord, how can two people be so obliviously thick?” Directing her gaze back at Malfoy, she directed a small, comforting smile his way. “yes, ‘too’. DO you seriously not notice the way he looks at you? Talks about you? You and he have always had that Thing between you- its just healthier now. I honestly do not think that kiss was anything other than him really just wanting to bloody kiss you. I also bet he’s really beating himself up over doing that and ruining the friendship. If I were you, I’d go and clear things up before he actually starts beating himself up.” Her smile grew warmer, and more encouraging, and that little flicker of hope in his chest grew exponentially. Surely Hermione wouldn’t lie to him? Who cares- he had to clear this up.
Jumping out of his seat, he quickly bent down and kissed Hermione on the head, shooting a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder before shooting up the stairs to the dormitories.
Hermione shook her head at the sight, warmth spreading through her- Harry was going to be just fine. Besides, looking back, her and Ron had been even more dramatic, so it’s the least she could do to help.
---
Sure, Malfoy had the resolve to fix things with Potter and rekindle their friendship- hopefully something more. Sure, Hermione had given him a lovely confidence boost and inspired him to fix things right now. He wanted to do that. He was trying to do that. The one problem was actually finding Harry bloody Potter. Was that a muggle movie? Maybe. Maybe he should watch it for ideas about how to find Potter now.
He had searched the dorms and come up empty and wandering around the grounds was getting him nowhere, so he made camp in the common room by the fireplace. Potter would have to come through to o to bed- he would just wait for him here.
Hours ticked by, and students came and went. At about 11, students began to trickle into their rooms, probably to go to sleep. Malfoy was tired- his body was tired, but there was no way he could sleep right nw. This was too important, and he didn’t want to wait any longer.
It was past midnight when Potter finally came back, looking miserable and worn out. The common room was empty, now, and it didn’t take long for him to spot Malfoy. The eye contact was awkward, but searing, and neither one could look away. This was probably the first time they had actually looked at each other since the Incident last week. For a second, Malfoy feared that Potter would walk straight past him to bed or walk back out the way he came. But he strode straight over to Malfoy, a fierce look of resolve on his face as he slumped into the chair next to him.
The eye contact remained, though neither said a thing. The tension was almost pliable between them. Potter was the first to break.
“Look, Malfoy, I’m sorry-“ Potter started, but was soon interrupted by Malfoy.
“Stop.”
“Stop? Why?” The baffled expression Harry wore could only be described as gawking, his lips parted dumbly. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting this. Malfoy smiled a bit at the thought, clearly, he meant a lot to Potter for him to throw away his pride and apologise like this.
“You’re not apologising. I’m sorry I’ve avoided you these past few days. I’m not mad about the kiss and it hasn’t ruined anything- yes I know what you’re thinking.” Potter gave him a puzzled but defeated look, and Malfoy took the chance to jest. “I’m secretly a mind reader, you see.” Harry chuckled at that, his nose scrunching up adorably- and Malfoy was so glad for Hermione in that moment.
“Shut up you actual twat,” Potter pushed at Malfoy playfully, the tensions between the two significantly lesser. “Now spit out what you actually want to say, it’s late you know.” Malfoy was about to make a comment, after all, it was Potter who had stayed out so late. But he ignored the cocky smile on Potters face, glancing away as he spoke next.
“Right, so, I’m not mad about the kiss. Well, I am, that was my first you know!” Potter blanched, and Malfoy backtracked- he hadn’t anticipated how flustered he would be despite how many times he had thought his speech over in his head. “Let me just clarify- I’m mad we were drunk when we kissed, I’m not mad it was you that took my first kiss.”
Malfoy lanced back over to watch Harry as the words sunk in, his ears reddening and his shocked expression knocking his glasses askew. “Does this mean-“
“I like you too, Harry.” His name still felt foreign on his tongue, but it was worth it for the giant smile that took over Harry’s face. “Now please clarify that you do indeed like me, I am a needy bitch and I need clarification.”
“I need to record you saying you’re a needy bitch- my God, Pansy will never believe it.” Malfoy smacked Harry lightly on the arm, but Harry grabbed his hand instead, threading his fingers through his own and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles. “I like you too, Draco.”
Draco will never forget the earnest, loving smile Harry wore as he said those 5 words, firelight flickering and warming his green eyes. It was hard to believe really- after all of the drama that had encompassed the two of them since starting at Hogwarts, the war and the losses they had both suffered. But they found comfort and relief in each other- a friend and companion, someone to share the sleepless nights with. It was the start of new era of the wizarding world, and a new world for the two of them to enjoy, together.