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Draco’s footsteps echoed loudly down the empty room as he pushed the door open, dust tickling his fingertips. His uniform blew as he walked, fumbling to unbutton his collar. Fuck, he just needed some air.
He was going to the only part of the castle no one went; the deepest corner of the west wing, the section that solely held the occasional ghost, creaky floorboards, and dust. The ghost of Ravenclaw, Helena Ravenclaw, was rumored to drift through the dusty halls and weep. It was only a rumor but it kept students away effectively. Helena stayed in her tower. Draco knew that because of how often he came to the abandoned section of Hogwarts. He knew his way around, how not to get lost and where to keep clear of.
The blonde reached a particular room with stained glass windows that Draco had to crane his neck to see the top of. The windowsills held undisturbed gray particles that glowed in the sunlight. Draco felt like the room was limitless and best of all, it was absolutely silent.
His breath escaped him as he sank to the floor, back to the wall.
He suffered with slight anxiety, and whenever he got blown around by a day out of his control, he began to be... well.. stressed is an understatement. Blaise called them his ‘fits’, his mother called them ‘episodes’, which was worse, and his father had once called them ‘tantrums’.
He liked to call them breaks. Breaks from school and home and life. No one ever found him in the west wing. He could breathe, even if the air he was breathing was a bit dusty.
Today, Draco’s break was called for because he failed an exam. Stupidly small, he knew, but it was a potions exam. He placed his worth in his skills and he was supposed to be good at potions. Snape was so damn judgemental with his disapproving gazes, folding his test as he gave it back. Snape wanted to favor Draco, so when Draco dropped the ball, Snape handed him the failure with a look of disappointment in his eye that reminded Draco of his father.
He traced up his thumb, inhaling, and back down, exhaling. He went up and down each finger and back. Time was irrelevant in this place.
Everything came back to his father somehow. His father, who set the bar so high that Draco could swing on it without his feet ever brushing the ground. Quidditch captain. Prefect. Slytherin. Rich. Straight-A’s. Never needy.
His father wanted Draco to be him. Draco’s hand clenched into a fist. He couldn’t. It was too much to bear the weight of expectations he could never live up to. Still, he took every burden and his parents watched as he struggled with a look of distaste.
Draco felt tears sting his eyes and a silent war started in his mind. He was never to cry but it’s not like anyone would see. He felt the first tear roll down his cheek and drip onto his robe with a tiny dot of wetness. The facade was up and he was trembling, sucking in his breath as tears poured down insatiably. He fell into his hands, heels of his palm digging into his cheeks. Fuck. He hated it.
His crying was interrupted by the sound of distant talking. His head snapped up, hand instantly going to his wand.
“...anks…Crookshanks.. come on you stupid cat, where are you?” The voice said, footsteps distant. Draco strained to place the voice. He knew that voice.. he was sure he knew that voice... But he also knew whoever it was was on the wrong side of the west wing; it was old and unstable. He wiped the tears from his face. Why couldn’t he just have a peaceful moment to himself? “Tch, tch, come kitty! Crookshanks!”
Draco opened the door and cautiously stepped forward, looking around for the person. His eyes landed on Harry Potter, who was already looking at him. His green eyes widened behind his wire, circle glasses. Draco went stiff as a rock.
Of course it was him, wandering in the most dangerous part of Hogwarts like an idiot.
“Malfoy? What are you doing here?”
"I heard you yelling like a blundering idiot,” Draco snapped, slightly evading the question. “Why are you in the west wing?”
“Looking for Crookshanks.”
“Who?”
“Hermione’s cat. It got lost.”
“You came in the west wing for a cat?”
“And you came here for..?” Harry defended, red-faced as he huffed. Draco glared.
“None of your business. You need to leave right now before you get yourself hurt.”
Harry kept walking and Draco followed him, Harry spitting, “I’m fine, Malfoy, I can take care of myself.”
“The floor could collapse underneath your feet any second, so no, I think you are doing a poor job safety-wise.”
“You were here before me, you’re just trying to scare me into leaving,” Harry shot back. “Besides, I have to finish looking for Crookshanks.”
“It’s a cat. ”
“It’s Hermione’s cat and she asked me to help.”
“Hermione can-”
In a blur, Harry’s foot fell through the floor and he tripped, falling into a slightly ajar door. Draco tripped on him and consequently followed. The two basically fell into a small, dusty room and in an attempt to catch himself, Draco fell back onto the door and a definite click followed. Harry coughed in the dust, on the floor as Draco swore. Light filtered in from in between the wooden boards and door cracks as Harry scrambled up, trying the knob. It stayed stuck. Draco groaned.
“Great. Look what you’ve done now, Potter. Move.”
Harry stumbled to the side and Draco strode forward, reaching for his wand. His hand hit fabric. He looked down to find his wand missing. It was still on the floor, dammit.
"Why did you stop?"
"I don't have my wand. You unlock it."
"I don't have my wand!" Harry cried. "I was looking for a cat."
"Why would you leave your wand?"
"I don't know, why'd you leave yours?"
Draco gave a frustrated sigh, sinking into the wall. Harry kept trying the doorknob, with both hands now, and then he tried to break it down. He looked back at Draco, saying, “Help me!”
“Help you what? The door is locked. We just have to wait-”
“No!” Harry cut him off, the volume of his voice causing Draco’s eyebrow to shoot up. “No, no, we have to get out-”
“I don’t want to be in here either,” Draco poorly attempted to console him, confused at the outburst. Harry backed up so his back hit the wall and screwed his eyes shut. What the hell was going on with him?
Draco looked away, crossing his arms. He was being dramatic. Draco examined the scruffy closet as Harry’s foot tapped. It looked like a broom closet but cleared out. He noticed cobwebs and frowned. Merlin, he hoped Harry’s friends would come looking for Harry soon.
Already ticked off, Draco felt his irritation growing with the tapping. “Merlin, Potter, would you stop tapping?”
The tapping sped. Draco narrowed his eyes as he realized Harry was breathing faster than he was tapping.
“Potter, are you afraid of the dark or something? What’s going on?”
“Shut it, Malfoy,” The boy muttered.
“You’re the one hyperventilating!”
“Shut up!” Harry shouted, head snapping up. Draco backed off, irritation turning into mild concern. Harry crossed the small room to the door again and started pounding. Irritation came back.
“Stop that, no one can hear you except me-”
“Let me out!” Harry’s voice cracked as if he was crying. “Let me out, let me out, let me out!”
“Didn’t I just-”
“I’m fucking catastrophic! I can’t be in here, I- I need to get out!”
Draco blinked, stunned for a moment as Harry pounded on the door. He’d never seen Harry like this.. it was alarming. He reached for his hand but Harry instantly slapped it away, stumbling back to the other side of the room. Draco retreated his hand as Harry muffled his sobs with his hand, crumpling to the floor.
“I- I can’t.. I need to get.. get out- god, why is it so hot in here?”
“Harry, listen to me,” Draco tried again, joining him on the floor. It was almost as if he never spoke though, Harry still sobbing with the force of someone drowning.
Harry buried in his knees, holding himself, “Pl- please, let me out, I swear I won’t bother you, I’ll be quiet, I- I promise, please..”
What was he talking about? Draco placed a hand on Harry’s knee and the boy merely winced, still sobbing. Draco scooted closer, “Potter, listen to m-”
“Let me out! ” The boy thrashed, fury dissolving back into despair a split second later and leaving Draco even more lost.
He took a deep breath. Harry needed to help, and even if Draco was shit at comforting people, he had to try. He found Harry’s hand and linked theirs together, Harry’s sweaty and trembling but Draco’s firm.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Draco said loudly. Harry lifted his head from his knees, face soaked with tears, looking terrified. His glasses had fallen into his lap, so his green eyes struck Draco a bit more than usual, especially since they were swimming in tears. “You’re okay, I’m here, just focus on me right now.”
He shook his head, lip trembling, “I can’t, I can’t-”
"Harry, listen to my voice,” Draco said evenly, taking his other hand, their knees brushing up in the close proximity they were in. “Close your eyes and follow me.”
Harry faltered, another tear escaping before he closed his eyes hesitantly. Draco inhaled, lifting their hands and Harry inhaled with him. Draco exhaled, bringing their hands back down, and Harry exhaled with him. Inhale, inhale. Exhale, exhale. Inhale, inhale. Exhale, exhale.
Almost five minutes passed, and Draco was hoping that they could stop when Harry’s friends came, but they seemed to be taking their time. Harry was calmer now. Draco could feel Harry’s steady pulse in his hands and he was fully in control of his breath. Draco opened his eyes and when Harry realized they weren’t inhaling, he did too.
“You alright now?”
Harry cast his gaze down, picking his glasses back up. “Mmhm.. t- thank you.”
Draco’s first reaction was to say something along the lines of, “Well, your sobbing was getting on my nerves,” but rethought that and instead quietly replied, “It’s fine.”
Harry shifted, moving to sort of the middle of the closet to lay on his back. Draco made a face.
“The floor is covered in dust and spiderwebs, you know that, correct?”
Harry just shrugged. Draco hesitated before twisting his robe and ripping off the long cloak part. Harry was now watching him with his eyebrows furrowed as he laid it down on the floor before laying down next to Harry himself.
Harry sounded slightly amused as he said, “You ruined your uniform.”
Draco scoffed, smoothing his shirt, “I’ll buy a new one.. look, not to stress you out or anything, but it’s looking like we’re going to be stuck in here awhile, so.. temporary truce?”
Harry turned his head back up to the ceiling. “Deal.”
“..care to remind me why we’re laying in the middle of this closet?”
“It looks bigger that way,” Harry replied without missing a beat. He winced, stealing a glance at Draco who was already studying his expression that was lit up by strings of light allowed by gaps in the wood.
“..and how do you know that, Potter?”
Harry opened his mouth, but no excuse came out.
“You know, a few minutes ago, you started saying something like,” Draco struggled to recall his exact words, “that you won’t bother me if I let you out, and that you’ll be quiet. What were you talking about?”
“..um,” is all Harry came up with. Draco waited. “I wasn’t talking about you.. I- I grew up with my uncle and aunt ’cause of my parents and they,” He gave a humorless laugh, “Let's just say they weren’t fond of me. My room.. my room was a broom closet. It’s how I developed claustrophobia.”
Draco sat up in alarm, propped on his forearms. “What?”
“Yeah, the spandrel under the stairs. It used to be for coats but then.. wait, are you getting me to say all of this so you can spread around school?”
“No, of course not.”
Harry was a little pink as he looked away, muttering, “Yeah, right.. Merlin, I’m such an idiot..”
“Hey,” Draco began defensively but then realized Harry was right to be resentful. Draco had spread a bunch of awful things around school about him and helping him calm down was not enough for trust. Draco sat in his predicament for a moment as Harry rolled away from him, facing the wall. Why did he even hate Harry so much? Because of his father? That was a stupid reason...
He chewed at the dry skin on his bottom lip as silence screamed in the closet. “...my.. my family had a house-elf before Dobby named Herbey. He was pretty old when I was born.” Harry peered back over at him, skeptical. “My father was kicking and hurting Herbey because he’d dropped a vase. He didn’t even care about the vase, he was just being cruel. He told me to do the same, to ‘condition’ Herbey by hitting him. I refused because I- the damn house-elf hadn’t done anything worth being hit over! My dad didn’t like that. He told me to do it or he would do to me what he did to Herbey. I still wouldn’t.. so he got a lump of coal from the fire and burned it into my arm.”
Draco pulled his sleeve up to reveal a black scar on his wrist in the shape of a jagged oval. He looked up at Harry from the scar, and Harry held his eye contact, gaze flickering between Draco’s mercury eyes.
“I promise not to tell anyone about your aunt and uncle if you promise not to tell about my father,” Draco proposed, pulling his sleeve cuff back down. Harry just blinked. He wasn’t sure why he told Harry about that story in particular. He had never told anyone. He supposed he said it because he knew he could say anything and wanted someone to share the weight of that scar. “Deal?”
“..yeah, deal,” Harry stammered, looking up. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“I’m sorry about your aunt and uncle.”
“S’alright.”
“Believe it or not, I thought you had a perfect childhood, Potter.”
Harry gave a short laugh. “Really? Well, where were you the last seven years?”
Draco cracked a small smile, watching the dust dance in the light. “Everyone just loves you.”
“Not everyone.. and it isn’t that great.”
“How so?”
And so Harry started talking and Draco started listening. Harry told him about how everyone had expectations for him ever since he came to Hogwarts. Their conditional love was awarded when he did good, and newspapers were delivered all around the school when he screwed up.
Draco told him about how he dreaded going home for breaks because his father would pick him apart from flaws and failures, and how he felt there were no pats on the back. Just ‘stand up straight’s.
They just talked to each other. They’d always just bickered and argued, so it was shocking how easily they sympathized with each other.
“It’s really nice talking to you,” Harry said after a pause in the conversation. “Whenever I talk to Ron about this stuff, I can tell he doesn’t get it, and Hermione just gets super sad.”
“It’s nice talking to you too, Po- Harry,” Draco caught himself.
“..hey, Draco?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I.. can I see your scars?”
Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't that.
“Huh?”
“Do you have more?”
“Yeah, I do... Alright,” Draco agreed, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and untying his tie to reveal the top of his chest. Harry’s eyes grazed over them. Draco felt his heart quicken as Harry lifted a hand to one of the longest scars.
“How’d you get that?”
“I broke a plate. My father got upset.”
Harry nodded wordlessly. He understood the rest of the story. He pointed to another.
“Dunno.”
Harry pointed to another, along his collarbone and Draco felt his chest tighten as Harry’s fingertip brushed his bare skin.
“Actually, that one’s quidditch.”
Harry gave a little laugh as Draco undid another button. One by one they looked at his scars and one by one the buttons came undone. Finally, there was no more, shirt loosely hanging on his shoulders. Harry sat straighter, looking up at Draco with a slight blush creeping into his face.
“Can I see your arms..?”
Shivers went up Draco’s spine as he nodded, taking off his shirt entirely. Harry inhaled, eyes scanning his arms. Story after story. Some short—interrupted a meeting, bad day at work—some funny—tripped, cast a spell wrong—some Draco stayed silent for and Harry just moved on.
When he moved to his back, the air was thick between them. There were only three on his back.
A few minutes later, Draco felt a touch graze his spine, “This one?”
“I’m offended,” Draco said with mock hurt. Harry scooted back to look at him, confused. “Someone threw me in a particular battle, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah, in the second year.”
“You started talking to the fuckin’ snake.”
Harry laughed, looking down, hair ruffled. Draco watched him fondly, a moment later asking, “You gonna keep going?”
Harry looked up, shaking his head. “That was all of them.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm,” Harry said, sneaking a glance at him. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
“Care to show me yours?” Draco asked, masking the nervousness in his tone with a slight tease. Harry paused and Draco let his smirk fade away. “You don’t have to.”
“No, no, I will, I’m just,” Harry averted his gaze, “I’m just a bit thin.”
“Oh,” Draco said blankly. “That’s- I don’t care.”
Harry’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, tugging his tie off. He unbuttoned his shirt to his mid-chest, looking back up at Draco. He was a good bit thinner than Draco, but he didn’t look ill or ugly or anything of that nature. He was gorgeous, truly.
Draco was more concerned with how many more scars Harry bore. Draco unsurely looked at a purple bruise on his ribs, brushing it.
“Oh- it’s not fresh,” Harry said quickly. “It just never seems to go away.”
“How’d you get it?”
“I broke a Christmas wreath so my uncle- yeah.”
“This one?”
“Dropped a knife I was washing.”
“What about this one?”
“Uh, it’s complicated..”
It took much longer to go over Harry’s but neither minded. It hurt Draco the most to see Harry frown and then shrug. Too many to keep track of them all, he dismissed. The buttons slipped off and Draco watched, swallowing the dryness in his throat, as Harry shed his shirt.
He started on the top of his arm and traveled down. Sometimes he’d say something like ‘I tripped or ‘I fell off my broom’ and Draco would smile and say ‘same’ jokingly.
When Draco had finished examining his arms, they locked eyes. At that moment, Draco zoomed out. He was in a closet with Harry Potter, neither of them were wearing shirts and they were less than two feet away from each other. He told himself he was only doing it because it was keeping Harry distracted, but he knew, deep down, he liked it.
“Can I see your back?” Harry nodded and Draco got up, walking to the other side of him. He wore many more scars on his back. Draco whispered, “Merlin, Harry.”
“Sorry,” Harry whispered back.
“Don’t be.. there’s a diagonal line in the middle of your spine- what’s that from?”
“Voldermort. He had me on a gravestone and made me watch him kill Cedric. There was a rock right on my spine and it actually kinda hurt,” Harry admitted. Scar by scar they explored his back like a night sky. Draco had to describe the scar since Harry couldn’t remember what each one was. He smirked slightly as he noticed one on his side.
Draco pressed his chilled palm on Harry’s side and heard Harry suck in a breath, Draco’s chest on Harry’s back.
Draco’s warm breath tickled Harry’s neck as he asked, smirking, “This one?”
Harry’s eyes were shut, not even bothering to look, “My- my first time at Olivanders.”
"Hm.. really?” Draco continued, arm slowly wrapped around Harry’s torso. “What happened?”
“Blew everything around,” His words came out without breath behind them. “One of the boxes h- hit me.”
“Harry?”
“Mhmm?”
“You seem a bit flustered, everything alright?”
He snaked another hand onto his hip and just as Harry was about to answer him, pressed firm pressure down with his four fingers. Harry let out a breathy noise of pleasure as he dug slow circles down on his hip.
“Fuck, Draco,” Harry managed to say, back arching ever so slightly.
“This okay?” Draco asked delicately as he kissed along his neck, arms wrapping around him from behind.
“More than,” Harry mumbled, leaning into the touch. With the consent, Draco started kissing his bare skin open-mouthed and trailed hickeys up to his jaw. Harry whined, pressing closer. Draco almost laughed. Who knew The Chosen One was a bottom. He moved over and let Harry fall on his back to the floor. He went on top of Harry, straddling him as he leaned over him. Harry found eye contact.
“Hey,” Draco teased, wearing a coy smile.
“Hey,” He stammered, red as Weasley’s hair. Draco leaned down and their lips finally collided, Harry eagerly kissing him. The hot, wet sounds of their kissing echoed around the small closet as the boys kissed, both too lost in the moment to hear the footsteps approaching the door.
“-arry? Harry, are you in-” Hermione opened the door and Draco and Harry instantly scrambled off each other. Hermione’s eyes shot open, jaw falling ajar. The three of them sat in the sound of Draco and Harry’s harsh breathing. “Uh.”
"We were stuck in here,” Harry said too quickly. “The door locks behind you.”
“Oh, shit, are you okay?” Hermione asked, casting a venomous glance at Draco.
“Yeah, I’m fine- thanks to him. He helped me calm down,” Harry told her as he slipped his shirt back on and Draco crossed his arms, waiting intently for an apology.
“Uh-huh, let's go. Ron found Crookshanks in the courtyard,” Hermione said shortly, pulling Harry by his arm out of the closet as Harry fumbled to button his shirt. Draco followed them out of the closet but allowed Harry to go his separate way. As Hermione pulled him, sharply asking questions Draco couldn’t make out, Harry looked back at Draco apologetically who just waved him off. He’d see him tomorrow.
Whatever they had, Draco was hoping it wouldn’t be over by tomorrow morning.