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Harry Potter breathes in without fear for the first time in years. Inexplicably, he’s alive and Voldemort’s dead. Nobody can say the boy who lived hasn’t earnt his name now. He stands up on his good leg, though even that is an overstatement. No bone or organ of Harry’s isn’t broken, sprained, bruised or aching. Even the core of magic deep within his chest splutters and fizzles, daring him to try one more spell. Luckily there’s no need for that anymore.
The bang like a cannon-blast as Voldemort’s spell backfired moments earlier still rings in Harry’s ears. So loud he can’t hear the voices of Hermione and Ron as they envelop him, or anyone else remaining in the Great Hall for that matter. He knows from their faces they’re shouting – screaming even – but the chants and cheers are lost on him.
There’s only one person in the crowd with their mouth firmly shut and it is him Harry is drawn to, now that it’s all over, now that they’re finally on the same side. Harry extracts himself from his best friends’ embraces and hobbles through the Great Hall, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff banquet tables on his left, Slytherin and Ravenclaw on his right.
His clothes are covered in blood and remnants from the Forbidden Forest floor. He’s wearing only one shoe and his binder is ripped through completely on one side, but he can’t bring himself to care.
“Harry!”
A shout from behind him finally cuts through the ringing but he ignores it. He stumbles on, picking up speed despite his spent body, the body that already died once tonight.
His target, a too-thin and too-angular boy with white-blond hair and pale grey eyes like the clouds on a sunny day, stands by the grand doors, as if readying an escape. Oh, no you don’t! Harry thinks pushing forward faster still.
As predicted, the boy turns, whipping his torn cloak behind him.
“Draco Malfoy!” Harry yells. “You stay right there.”
The boy stops.
Harry closes the distance and places one hand on his shoulder. “Look at me.”
Draco Malfoy turns back around. Blood leaks from the crown of his head, pooling at the base of his chin. It drips steadily into his outstretched hands. His lips move, forming Harry’s name and then more, but Harry can’t hear the words.
“Draco Malfoy,” he says loudly in case Draco’s ears are ringing too. “I love you.” And then he kisses him.
It tastes of metal and rust, so distinct from their previous tender kisses stolen behind tapestries, in the Quidditch locker room or beneath Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. Yet, it has been a long time since a kiss with Draco Malfoy felt quite like this – as if all the energy he expends into it is given back to him twofold. This is being alive.
Draco pulls back first, eyes red not from blood but from tears. He opens his mouth again and–
“Harry, are you mad?”
Harry turns to face Ron, closely followed by Hermione. The dirt on Ron’s face reminds Harry of when they all met on the Hogwarts Express. How long ago that seems now. The ringing continues but the muffle of surrounding voices is stronger now.
“You know that’s Draco Malfoy you were kissing?” Hermione asks gently. Her bushy hair is slicked tight to her scalp with sweat and blood.
Harry nods, ignoring how it causes the pain in the back of his head to sear. “He’s–”
“Leaving,” Draco interrupts. “You’ll never have to see me again.”
Before Harry can react, Ron takes hold of Draco’s cloak and yanks him close. “Oi, not so fast,” he says. “Harry just told you he loved you. Aren’t you going to say it back?”
Looking around at the faces approaching behind his best friends; Ginny, Neville, Luna, McGonagall, Hagrid, Molly, and more; Harry realises he is probably the only one whose hearing was affected by the blast. Three years of secretly dating have been exposed to the entire Great Hall in one shouted confession.
“So?” Ron prompts, shaking Draco lightly.
“Of course I love him too. That’s why I have to leave. He deserves someone better.” Draco avoids Harry’s eyes, staring down at Ron’s feet. “Someone good.”
“Mr Malfoy!” McGonagall’s voice cuts through the crowd and she steps out beside Ron. Dried blood covers her robes but she has no visible wounds. “Look around you.” She gestures at the crumbling walls. “All this is finally over. Don’t extend the misery.”
“Yeah,” Neville adds. “For once in your life, don’t be a coward.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Neville reddens and shrinks back into the crowd.
“I don’t want to be a coward anymore,” Draco says. “Leaving is the only brave thing I can do.”
“That’s a load of fucking shit and we all know it.”
Everyone turns to Molly Weasley who stands tall, wagging her wand at Draco like an index finger. “Love,” she says, “is the bravest thing. The most heart-wrenching thing–” tears spill down her cheeks– “but the bravest all the same.”
“Stay,” Harry says, talking only to Draco as if nobody else is watching. “Stay with me.”
Ginny steps forward next, chunks of torn hair frames a messy matted bun atop her head and a purple bruise has taken over her forehead. She points her wand to Draco’s face. “If you don’t say yes, I’ll cast a bat bogey hex on you for eternity.”
Draco’s eyes widen but he doesn’t say anything. Ginny moves her wand in closer.
Harry gently pushes her hand away. “Don’t force him.”
She drops the wand but her knuckles still clench tightly around it. “Let me know on the hex,” she says to Harry before stepping back.
“Harry,” Draco says. “All I’ve wanted all these years is to find a way to be with you. You must know that I love you more than anything. But after everything my family’s done, after everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“What about what Harry deserves?” Hagrid suddenly speaks up. He remains at the back of the crowd but he towers over the rest and his voice carries. He peers down at Harry, his face a mix of confusion and fondness. “Is Malfoy really who you want, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry answers without hesitation. Walking to what he thought was his death in the Forbidden Forest earlier today put everything in perspective.
“Then don’t be a selfish little git about it,” Hagrid says to Draco. “Harry can decide for himself what he wants and what you deserve…” Hagrid’s voice lowers “…which is a solid kick in the backside if you ask me.”
“I hate to break up this little soiree,” says a smooth cold voice, slipping through the crowd. “But you need to get your grubby hands off my son right now.”
Lucius Malfoy fixes his broken cane on Ron’s shoulder and shoves him away.
“Stay out of this, father,” Draco says, avoiding Lucius’s grip. “Wherever I’m going, it’s not with you.”
“You naive little brat!” Lucius swings his cane back but before it can complete its arc, Harry stops it with one outstretched hand.
Next, McGonagall moves into action, swishing her wand and enveloping Lucius in a full body bind. “Somebody get this man out of my school and into Azkaban,” she says sternly.
Immediately, a small obedient group gather up Lucius Malfoy and take him away. Draco watches, his eyes cold and unforgiving. Is that how he thinks people should look at him?
“Stay,” Harry repeats. “Stay with me.”
Draco’s eyes move to Harry’s and all their previous coldness fades away.
“Stay,” Harry pleads once more.
“I want to,” Draco says.
‘Then what are you waiting for?” Luna pipes up. “Wrackspurts will infest your brain soon if you keep being unnecessarily stubborn.”
“Yeah,” Ron agrees. “What she said.”
Luna beams at him.
“Draco, dear,” Narcissa Malfoy says. She’s roped up on the Ravenclaw table but in all the commotion has managed to crawl right to the edge by her son. “The manor hasn’t seen a wedding in years. Do your soon-to-be divorcee mother a favour, would you?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Narcissa,” McGonagall says coldly. “We were talking about what Harry deserves, not you.”
Narcissa purses her lips at the scolding but doesn’t say anything further.
“Besides,” McGonagall continues, “they might wish to consider the Hogwarts grounds for a Summer wedding.”
“Enough about weddings,” Ron says. “First this slimy git needs to stop running away.”
“Ron–” Harry starts.
“No,” Ron interrupts. “I might not like the bloke but I’m not an idiot. I know where you’ve been sneaking off to since fifth year. I know it was Malfoy who supported you when you came out, when I…wasn’t as quick to see sense. And I saw how devastated you were when we had to leave him at Malfoy Manor. I can’t begin to imagine what you see in an arrogant, self-entitled, obnoxious, selfish–”
“You’ve made your point,” Hermione whispers.
“But despite all that,” Ron continues, “you love him and he loves you so there’s no excuse not to try and make it work. He owes you that much.”
“Look at me and Ron,” Hermione adds. “We wasted all this time tiptoeing around each other before admitting our feelings and we could have died today. Just like that.” She nods at Harry. “You did die today.”
Draco stands up a little straighter and surveys the crowd before turning to Harry. Tears brim at his eyes and there’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips, as if he’s allowing himself to believe in the possibility of a future with Harry for the first time.
“We can really make it work?” he asks.
Relief hurtles through Harry’s body, from his aching feet all the way to the grin that overpowers his face. “Come here.”
“Everybody’s watching,” Draco whispers.
“I don’t care anymore.”
Draco kisses him and the Great Hall cheers. Someone pats Harry on the back, another ruffles his hair, but his only focus is Draco Malfoy. After years of only pretending their relationship was possible, it finally is. There’s nothing and nobody left in their way. And every single person in the Great Hall knows.
Harry’s vaguely aware of someone slipping what must be the Invisibility Cloak over their heads and guiding them from the Great Hall, but he doesn’t break away, he only holds Draco closer, wanting this moment of ‘Finally!’ to last forever.
“You’re alone now,” whispers Ron’s distant voice. “Take your time.”
A door creaks shut, and Harry finally breaks off from Draco and opens his eyes. They’ve been placed in an empty Potions classroom and sealed in with a silencing spell if Harry’s reading the faint buzzing sound correctly.
“You’re really going to stay with me?” Harry asks.
Draco nods, and at last his usual demeanour returns in the form of a smirk. “It seems I have no choice in the matter. You have far too many friends and fans to run from. Not to mention, I’m not particularly fond of bat bogey hexes.”
Harry laughs, giddy with relief. Somehow, he’s equally more exhausted and more energised than he’s ever been before. “I think they want us to…” He trails off, gesturing to the empty room. He gets the sense Ron has been waiting to try out his wingman skills for some time now.
Draco’s eyes widen. “But you’re covered in blood and grime.”
“So are you!”
Draco laughs, flicking some of the dried blood from his face. “You’re not helping your case.”
“It’s what the people want,” Harry points out. “Do you need me to take you back to the Great Hall and have them convince you first?” he teases.
“I see ‘The Chosen One’ still likes to throw his weight around.”
“Actually it's ‘The Wizarding World’s Saviour’ now.” He's joking but the words and the responsibility weigh heavy on Harry’s shoulders. He’ll have to confront the aftermath of it all soon, but for now–
“Here I was thinking your head couldn’t get any bigger.”
–he has something, someone, that truly makes him happy, and he’ll stay in this moment for as long as the world allows. And the world owes him a lifetime.