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Today is the day. No more excuses or delays. Today Harry will step up and do what he’s wanted to do for weeks now. It’s the only way forward. So Harry spins his legs out of his bed and stands up. He takes his glasses and walks towards the shower. He brushes his teeth and pulls on his Auror robes. Today is the day. Today he will not chicken out at the last minute. He will do it.
Harry takes his time to try to tame his hair. It’s useless, as always. But he’s trying anyway. Malfoy’s hair always looks like he’s just got out of bed, but still stylish. Harry wonders how Malfoy does it. And why his own hair only likes to look like a crows nest. His grandfather was the inventor of an amazing hair potion, so why doesn’t do anything to tame Harry’s hair?
In the end, Harry gives up and just goes downstairs to grab a cup of coffee. He needs to get his energy up for what he’s going to do.
He walks to his fireplace and takes a hand of flu powder. He takes a deep breath and then steps into the green flames.
The ministry is almost empty when Harry steps into the hallway. It’s still early. Harry likes to arrive before everyone else. Before the reporters come in to try to get a glimpse of there saviour. And today Harry doesn’t need them at all. He needs to be focused on his task. If he gets sidetracked he will chicken out again.
He’s tried to do it before. Just walk up to Malfoy and just say what’s on his mind. But it’s hard. It isn’t until now that Harry understands why it took Hermione and Ron so long before they could admit to each other that they were in love. Putting yourself out there is more terrifying than taking on Voldemort.
Harry makes it to his office without running into anyone. He pulls off his robes and sits down. He takes one look at the massive pile of paperwork he needs to get through today. The pile never seems to become any smaller. Harry shakes his head and stands back up.
He turns on the coffee machine in the staff room and waits. He looks at the schedules on the wall. He’s on-call this coming weekend. So maybe, he shouldn’t. But fuck no. He won’t find an excuse to not do it. He will do it today. He made a promise to himself. Before the end of this month. So that means today. He’s twenty-eight. He can do this. It’s no big deal.
But it kinda is. If this goes wrong, Harry will lose a friend and have his heart broken in one minute. And there is a big change this will go wrong. Harry isn’t even sure if Malfoy even is gay, or bi like Harry. He never talks about his love life. Harry is quite sure Malfoy never goes on dates. He would have mentioned them if he had, wouldn’t he? Harry has told him about dates he’s been on.
What if Malfoy is asexual, or demisexual? Maybe this is all a mistake and it will ruin everything they’ve accomplished over the last three years.
Harry sips his new coffee and shakes his head. Three years of dreaming of the same man is long enough to take a leap. He has to do something. He can’t go on like this, pretending he doesn’t want to kiss Malfoy every time he sees him. No, he has to be honest. With himself, and with Malfoy. He deserves to know that Harry wants more than the friendship they’ve build up.
The trip down to the potion lap is short. Harry stops in front of the door. Maybe Malfoy isn’t in yet. Maybe Harry can go in and see Malfoy has the day off and then he will have him as a friend for one more day.
“Are you going to stand in front of that door all day, or are you coming in and offer me a decent cup of coffee,” Malfoy says as he walks up to Harry.
“You’re late,” Harry says. Malfoy looks amazing in his black robes. His hair falls around his cheeks and he smiles.
“Yes, that’s what happens when your co-parent decides to drop off your son at six in the morning without any warning. I’m glad Andromeda was willing to babysit. I love Astoria, she’s a great friend. And what she did for me after the war. Well, I owe her. But it would be nice if she would remember that I have a job.”
Malfoy shakes his head and walks into the potions lab. He puts his satchel down and then checks on some of the potions he left overnight.
“How’s Scorpius?” Harry asks.
“He’s great. He started primary school this year and he loves it. I can’t believe he’s already five. And he’s growing. He’ll be taller than me before he even goes to Hogwarts if he keeps growing the way he does now,” Malfoy says as he sits down. “Now, where is my coffee?”
Harry hands him a steaming cup and Malfoy sips it carefully. This is the moment. They’re still alone. Harry should say it now before Malfoy’s colleagues arrive.
“What’s up with you this morning. First, the staring at the door and now you stand there like the world is ending any minute now. Please don’t tell me if it is, I would like to stay ignorant to the very end,” Malfoy jokes.
Harry shakes his head and then sits down. “Sorry, it’s just,” he says before he falls silent. He can’t do this. Malfoy is his friend and once Harry utters the words that have been roaming inside his head for the last couple of months he won’t be any longer.
“Just what, Potter? The press got nasty pictures of you? Did they stop you from doing your work, again? Spit it out. We both know you’ll feel better once you’ve complained about it all being so unfair.”
“No, that’s not it,” Harry says. “It’s worse, or maybe better. Depends on how you look at it.”
“You make absolutely no sense, Potter,” Malfoy says.
“I know, I’m sorry. Fuck. Okay, here it goes. You might hate me after this, but I need you to know.”
Harry looks at Malfoy who has put down his coffee. His hands rest on his desk and his mouth has become a thin line.
“Is this the moment you say you made a mistake? That you should have never reached out to me after the war. That our friendship means nothing,” Malfoy says. His voice sounds strained and Harry hates it.
“Fuck, no. Off course not. It’s the opposite. Our friendship means everything. You mean everything. Because, somehow, I’ve fallen in love with you. And I just wanted to know, if you maybe would like to go on a date with me sometime, to see if you could love me too.”
Harry looks at his cup of coffee in his hands. He’s afraid to look up and see what Malfoy will say.
“You love me,” Malfoy whispers. He sounds so small and frightened and Harry has to look at him as he confirms it once more.
“Yes, I love you,” he says.
Malfoy stands up and Harry’s coffee floats to the desk. Two hands grab his cheeks and then Malfoy’s lips are placed on his. Harry smiles into the kiss which doesn’t last long enough if you ask Harry.
“I take it, that this means you love me too?” Harry asks.
“Yes, Potter. Yes, I do,” Malfoy answers. “I love you, Harry,” he says.
Harry pulls Draco on his lap and kisses him again. Why did he even ever worry about saying these three little words?