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This whole thing was easier than they had expected. So much easier.
Not only keeping their relationship a secret from everyone. But also said relationship itself.
Harry was in awe of how easy everything was with Draco.
Sure, they’d had their fair share of miscommunications and fights over the first few months. But they were rebuilding Hogwarts then and things were complicated. Everything was just too fresh, still too painful. But in the end they had always managed to work it out somehow.
And that's how it came to their first kiss. Neither of them could sleep then, so they both wandered around the castle. And somehow they managed to meet each other in the Great Hall where they'd spend the nights talking, and then kissing.
Now that eighth year had started they didn't need to pretend to be enemies. Their friends had watched the careful friendship bloom between them, Harry and Draco only had to leave everyone under the impression that they were nothing but friends.
A few staged fights, some screaming from their shared room, nothing too big to make their friends worry, but also nothing too nice to make them suspicious.
They weren't ready to face the world just yet. Not with the grief everyone, including them, was still carrying around.
But with each other they had found their place.
And if Draco's bed never looked like anyone had ever slept in it, and Harry's eyes became all soft whenever he hauled curses at Draco, nobody said a word about it to them.
One day they’d make it official.
But until then they could have this little secret for themselves.
Feeling like he had drunk an entire cauldron of Felix Felicis, Harry pulled Draco into his arms.
Soft skin touching his own, sending him flying as the Slytherin snored on.