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It was hard being Draco Malfoy in the current political climate. It was even harder being Draco Malfoy who was in love with Harry Potter who was bloody clueless! He told Blaise that Potter was the most oblivious person to exist in the Wizarding World and the bastard hadn’t believed him. Which led him to this clusterfuck of a situation.
Draco had just held an incredibly sappy soliloquy in which he very emphasized just how much Scarhead meant to him, and what did he get in response? “Oh, I love you too Draco. Thanks for telling me. I’m so glad. We. Became. Friends.”
Draco didn’t know if spontaneous combustion was possible, but he really wished he could just… Cease. Existing. Right now. He silently cursed the hundred-year-old anti-apparition wards over Grimmauld that preventing him from leaving right this second. And the best thing? Potter had no idea he was currently dying of embarrassment. He just kept talking about how nice it would have been if they became friends sooner and how he really liked spending time with Draco and how now that Ron and Hermione had a kid, he felt a bit neglected which wasn’t fair, but it did give him time to hang out with Draco more. Draco, his new best friend.
“Isn’t that weird? That we’re best friends now?” Harry asked and took a sip of his butterbeer. They were sitting on the floor of Harry’s living room, or rather Harry was sitting on the floor while Draco was lying down, staring at the ceiling, and questioning his existence.
He sort of wished he’d just snogged the annoying prat instead of trying to talk about it beforehand. Talking never sorted anything out.
“Draco?” Great, now Harry was concerned about his wellbeing. He sighed and pulled himself up, face to face to the Boy Wonder.
“I love you,” he said slowly and clearly. “As in more than friends, more than best friends and more than super extra best friends.”
Harry blinked at him. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Draco was just about to get up and leave when Harry said, “Good then. Me too.”
“I’m sorry, what?!”
“I love you too,” Harry repeated as if he was talking to a child. “Like, romantically. The way you love me.”
Draco stared at him like he’d grown three heads trying to comprehend. Maybe he was the oblivious one but did Harry just tell him that he was into him? Like for real?
“You okay?” Harry asked and placed a hand to his cheek to take a closer look at his face.
“I – did you just say you love me the way I love you?”
“Yes. Do you need to check your hearing?” Harry chuckled and then turned his head from side to side as if trying to find an injury. If Draco wasn’t crazy, it was merely an excuse to ogle him. Or it would if Draco was in Harry’s place right now.
“I heard you. I just have, er, trouble believing?” Draco murmured. “You didn’t just say that to make me feel better, right?”
“I’m not one of your sycophants, Draco,” Harry said dryly. “Would it help if I snogged you?”
Draco said nothing for a moment, still trying to gather his bearings. Maybe this wasn’t a total disaster of an evening.
“Yeah,” he finally replied. “It’d help.”
“Good,” Harry said and proceeded to snog the living daylights out of him. He was a good snogger.