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Harry sat up straight and stretched his neck, rubbing at the knot that had formed while he weeded the garden. There were some things that magic could do but just felt better to do the muggle way and Harry had always found that gardening was one of them.
Besides, gardening helped him to keep his mind off of Draco and the idiot that he was moving halfway across the bloody country with.
Ah. And there he went again, thoughts spiraling away, racing after someone who was never truly his but had still somehow always felt like he was supposed to be.
There was the crack of apparation and Harry jumped, twisting around to see that Pansy had appeared right in the middle of his garden. “Oy!” he shouted at her, “Get off of my carrots!”
“Potter, honestly,” she grumbled, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He scowled at her, “You know what Parkinson? You can piss off. It’s not a great day and-”
“What are you still doing here?” she asked in exasperation.
He blinked, momentarily sidetracked from what he’d been rattling off at her, “What?”
“Why are you still here?” she said gesturing around with a mild look of displeasure on her face.
“Where else would I be?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said sarcastically as though the answer should have been obvious, “Stopping Draco from getting on a train that’s going to isolate him with that complete wanker of a boyfriend-”
“Why me?” he protested, “You’re his best friend.”
“And you are the love of his life!” she exclaimed in complete frustration.
“What?” he repeated.
“Potter, come on,” she groaned. “He’s been in love with you for years.”
“Why doesn’t he tell me, if that’s the case?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.
“Because he’s as stupid as you are!” she shouted, stomping a stiletto’d foot into the ground and probably smashing some of his vegetables. “Because the two of you have made us all suffer, watching and waiting for you to fucking figure it out, but you’re both idiots! And now he’s going to leave because he thinks that you don’t love him and it won’t matter to you when he’s gone. And you’re just going to let him because you think that sacrifice is all you’re good at.”
“He loves me, too?” he whispered.
She rolled her eyes, “Yes. Now are you going to stop him from leaving or aren’t you?”
He nodded once and then stood so he could apparate, ignoring that he was stepping on his radishes as he did so. When he got sucked back into existence, he immediately started running, looking for that shock of platinum hair that he recognize anywhere.
When Harry caught sight of him, he was standing in a queue, waiting to board the train.
“Draco!” he shouted, shoving his way through the crowds, “Draco!”
The other man turned his head and caught sight of him when Harry was several feet away. “Harry?” he asked, ducking under the fence and stepping out of the queue. “What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes raking over Harry’s disheveled, dirty clothes.
“I’m in love with you,” he blurted. “And I should have told you everyday and I know it’s shitty to tell you now, but honestly Zach is a bastard and we all hate him. And I just-”
“Woah,” he said, holding up a hand, “Harry what?”
“Don’t go,” he said. “Please don’t leave.”
“You’re going to do this now?” he asked incredulously. “You’ve had years to tell me! Literal years! And you’re going to wait until,” he paused and cast a tempus, “three minutes before my train leaves to tell me?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “Pansy said-”
“Oh, bloody Pansy,” Draco said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I should have known, the cow. Look,” he said, taking a step back, “I’m leaving. I’m tired of waiting for my life to happen, I’m tired of waiting for you to love me-”
“But I already love you-”
“It’s too late,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s too late. I’ve got a job set up and a lease I just cosigned on for a new flat,” he took another step back from Harry. “You’re too late. I’m sorry.”
He turned around and Harry watched as he slipped back into the line that was now mostly through and climbed on the train without a backward glance.
He watched the train pull away, leaving him standing there without quite knowing what to do. And he stood there for a good while longer as people bustled around him, heading to their destinations; coming and going, living their lives in a way that Harry had been too afraid to.
After what could have been minutes or could have been an hour for all it mattered, he disapparated, back to his little cottage with the lovely garden in the back.
———–
Several hours later, Harry was sitting in front of the fire holding a book and trying to force himself to read it, but mostly thinking about Draco when a knock on the door caught him off guard.
He turned his head and shouted, “Go away. I’m not in the mood for company.”
There was another knock, more insistent this time and Harry threw down the book and stormed over to the door, throwing it open.
And revealed Draco, standing there in the doorway, glaring at Harry. “Did you mean it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Did you mean it?” he repeated. “What you said at the train station?”
He nodded quickly, “Every word.”
Draco looked at him for another long moment, eyes darting between Harry’s before he stepped forward into Harry’s house and kissed him.
Harry groaned and melted into the kiss, tugging Draco closer and pulling Draco’s bag off his shoulder and throwing it on the floor out of their way.
“I can’t believe you!” Draco growled as he nipped at Harry’s lower lip, his hands slipping up under his shirt. “Why did you wait so long?” he asked as he pushed Harry back against the door frame.
“You could have-” he broke off, “Oh,” he whimpered as Draco sucked at his jaw. “You could have said something, too,” he protested.
“I sold my house!” the other man protested. “I literally have no where to live, I gave up my job, and-”
“Stay here,” Harry said, kissing him again. “Godric, Draco, never fucking leave me again. Stay,” he repeated.
And so Draco did.