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"Gentlemen! That is enough!" McGonagall shouted, but Harry could barely hear her through the rage rushing through his body.
Malfoy kicked at his shin and Harry shoved him down against the hard stone floor an instant before magic was separating the two of them.
"Potter, Malfoy," McGonagall snapped, "this childish behavior is unbecoming for two young men, such as yourselves."
"He started it!" Harry shouted, full to the brim with vitriol and anger.
"Like hell I did," Malfoy snarled back, "You were the one-"
"Enough," she said, voice calm in a way that made the hair on Harry's neck stand on end. "Enough," she said holding up a hand. "If the two of you insist on acting like children, I'll just punish you like children."
She conjured two chairs in the center of the hallway, "Sit," she instructed, and Harry may have defeated Voldemort but he still knew better than to question what McGonagall had to say.
The two of them slumped into the chairs, pointedly not looking at the other, Harry folded his arms over his chest.
"You're going to sit here for the next half an hour and hold hands," McGonagall said calmly.
"What?!" Harry yelped.
"You can't be serious, Professor!" Malfoy added, equally affronted by the idea, apparently.
"Oh, I assure you that I am very serious, gentlemen. Nothing else has seemed to work, not detentions, not cleaning duty, not formal written apologies," she raised a shoulder. "Let's give this a try."
"But it's in the middle of the halfway!" Malfoy protested.
She raised an eyebrow, "So was your fighting. Come along now gentlemen, the timer can't start until you're holding hands."
Harry groaned but reached into the space between them, waiting for Malfoy's hand to join his. After a moment, Malfoy grabbed his hand and a golden timer appeared above their heads.
He felt his neck heat up at the contact and a glance out of the corner of his eye showed that Malfoy’s pale skin had flushed a bright shade of red.
“Right,” McGonagall said, straightening her robes slightly, “half an hour, the timer will sound, and you're free to go on your way."
It was torture. Half an hour felt like an eternity and Harry didn't even have it in him to fight with the other boy anymore. He just glared off into space, thinking this was just one more injustice in a long line of injustices in his life.
Finally when the timer went off, the two of them darted apart, glaring at each other but going their separate ways without another word.
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It was 6 days before McGonagall caught the two of them fighting again but Harry just hadn't been able to help himself. There was this itch under his skin that nothing seemed to help, nothing except having his hands on another body. It made him feel alive, the fighting but also sitting there with Malfoy's hand in his.
It was complicated and Harry didn't want anything else complicated just now, thanks very much. His life had been too complicated and he was done thinking about hings.
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I happened five more times in the next two weeks, the last time it was late and Harry didn't really know what he was thinking. He'd been out wandering the castle, trying to make himself feel tired, when he'd stumbled over the other boy.
He scrambled to his feet, "What the fuck, Malfoy? What are you doing here?"
"The same thing as you, I suspect," he said, voice devoid of the normal vitriol it held for Harry.
"And what's that?" Harry snapped.
Malfoy looked up at him, silver eyes glittering in the darkness, "Trying to come to terms with who I am, when it's different than the person I was always told to be and different from who I thought I'd be."
Harry blinked at him and his breath rushed out in an exhale like Malfoy had punched him. "I don't know who I am."
And unlike anyone else Harry had said those words to, Malfoy just nodded at him. "Do you smoke?"
"No," he answered quickly.
The corner of Malfoy's mouth turned up, "Want to try it?"
He did the only thing that made sense in this weird moment, he sank down on the floor next to the other boy and reached out for the joint in Malfoy's hand. Harry put it up to his mouth and sucked.
Then promptly started coughing and spluttering, eyes stinging.
Malfoy laughed and Harry felt the anger rising inside of him. Before he could snap, though, Malfoy said, "try again. Take a small hit," he said, taking the joint from Harry, "then inhale deeply after." He demonstrated then handed it back to Harry.
He looked at the other boy skeptically but then decided that it didn't really matter, no one would believe Malfoy if he tried to tell anyone that this had happened in the first place.
Harry did what Malfoy had suggested and only coughed a little bit, he took another hit right on the tail of the first before handing it back to Malfoy. "I don't feel anything," Harry said dubiously.
Malfoy smirked, "Give it a minute," he said before taking another hit himself and collapsing onto his back on the floor. "Lay down," he said.
"I swear, Malfoy, if you're having me on-" Harry said.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, and he looked so different than he normally did, so warm and loose, that Harry couldn't possibly believe he was lying. "Lay down."
"Why?" Harry asked, even as he did.
"The ceiling," Draco murmured, pointing up at the blue ceiling with a silver-white pattern, "It's my favorite."
He blinked and then he could understand why, it felt warm somehow, big and comforting. Harry reached over and hooked his pinky through Malfoy's, anchoring himself to the other man as his body started to float a bit. "Whoa."
Malfoy hummed, "Just be for a little while," he murmured. "Stop fucking trying so hard."
"But what happens then?" Harry asked.
"The world becomes your oyster."
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Harry had woken up the following morning and he couldn't remember how much was a dream and how much was real. Everything felt strangely fuzzy around the edges. He spent the rest of the day remembering (or misremembering) conversations with Malfoy and it made him feel a bit like he was losing his marbles.
It didn't stop him from trying to find Malfoy the following night. And it certainly didn't stop him from smoking with him again, laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, pinkies linked again as they talked about whatever nonsense flitted through their brains.
And it continued like this for two and a half months until Harry confessed something a little too real while they were laying next to one another.
"You're the only person I touch."
"What?" Draco said, turning his head to look at Harry.
"It's stupid," he said, trying to pull away.
Draco reached for his hand and held it, tugging him gently back, "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he said softly. "It just," he shrugged, "Everyone else feels so... sad."
"And I don't feel sad?" Draco asked, no judgement, just genuine curiosity, and Harry was struck again by how surreal all this was.
He shook his head, "You," he sighed, "You feel alive. You feel like the good kind of adventure, where there's no bad outcome."
"That," Draco said, blinking and swallowing hard, "Might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."
Harry blinked back at him, when had he gotten so close to the other boy? Still, like Draco was a magnet, Harry found himself leaning toward him, wondering what he might taste like.
"Harry," he said and Harry jerked back.
"Sorry," he said, quickly standing up. "I don't know what I was thinking. I-"
"Wait," Draco said, rolling onto his side and reaching for him, "It's okay. I-"
"No," he said shaking his head. "I can't." With one last look at the other boy, his eyes wide and pleading, Harry took off down the corridor and back to the common room.
He was almost back when a voice drifted from an alcove, interrupting his internal panic. "Oh, hello Harry."
Harry bit back a groan, but only just, "Luna?" he asked, squinting into the dark, "What are you doing?"
"Chasing the milmors," she said, as though that made even the tiniest bit of sense. "You're looking well."
"Am I?" he asked irritably.
She tilted her head at him, "He's good for you, you know."
"Who is?" he asked, because surely she couldn't mean Draco sodding Malfoy. His life was imploding because of him. It was too much, all of it, too much pressure, too much bucking of expectations, too much of a challenge. No one was going to understand.
She blinked, "You don't know, do you?"
"Sorry, Luna," he said, rubbing his forehead, "I'm tired and just not really in the mood for riddles."
"It's you," she said. "You're happy with him because of you."
"Right," Harry said, shaking his head. "Thanks for that. I'm just going to sleep on that."
"Don't wait too long," she called after him.
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Harry did not sleep well.
And then Draco didn't show up to breakfast, or to classes, or to lunch, or to classes after lunch, or to dinner, and the rest of Harry's day went to shit too. He couldn't think about anything else, couldn't get Luna's barmy words out of his head, couldn't stop seeing the look of hurt on Draco's face as Harry walked away.
He slipped away after dinner and dug out his old map, determined to find Draco and talk to him because this feeling of anxiety bubbling in his chest was intolerable.
The name 'Draco Malfoy' was floating out by the lake and Harry bundled up before heading outdoors. Before he'd even gotten within ten yards of the other boy, Draco let out a groan, "Go away, Potter. Honestly," he said. "I don't have anything left that I can give you. There's no more of me for y-"
"I'm sorry," Harry blurted. "You really confuse me and I-"
"Then go away until I make sense," Draco snapped, burying his head in his knees.
Harry sat down next to him on the muddy, cold ground, "I'm pretty sure that I could spend my entire life trying to figure you out and I wouldn't be able to."
"I'm not that bloody hard to understand," he growled. "I'm just a person, Potter, and I know that you can't seem to see me as a human being-"
"I like you," Harry blurted.
Draco lifted his head out of his knees and glared at him, "Are you serious, right now?"
He nodded.
But Draco rolled his eyes and looked back out over the lake, "You are too much."
"I know," Harry said. "I'm a lot. I'm a ticking time bomb," he agreed.
Draco let out a disgruntled chuckle, "Don't make me laugh. I'm mad at you."
"I know," he said again, "and you should be. I don't blame you at all," he added. "I was awful, I panicked-"
"Oh, stop," he huffed, "It wasn't that bad, you just ran away. It's not like you tried to beat me to a bloody pulp, or curse me-"
"I'm sorry," he said, guilt tangling in his gut, because he had done those things, "I-"
Draco reached over and covered Harry's mittened hand with his own, "Me too," he said softly. "It's not like I've been innocent in any of this. You don't get to carry the responsibility alone."
He exhaled slowly, "I meant what I said last night."
"Which part?"
"You're the only person I touch if I can help it. Luna told me it was about me," he added.
"Luna?"
He nodded, "She stopped me on my way back." He shrugged, "Anyway, I think she's right. Draco," he said, before tugging his glove off to cup the other boy's pink cheek, "I like you. And I was just too scared of what that meant, of what it could change, of having to," he paused, searching for the right words, "to keep fighting for the things I want."
Draco's brow furrowed.
"Not with you," Harry hastened to add, "I'll fight for you if you need me to. I just mean with the press and with the public, and with what everyone will think. I just," he sighed. "I just want to be happy."
"And you think that I would make you happy?" Draco asked incredulously.
"Inexplicably."
Draco looked at him for a long moment, face uncertain.
"I guess what I need to know is if you're interested in me, too?" Harry asked.
Draco huffed a humorless laugh, "What kind of idiotic question is that? Of course I like you, too, Potter."
"Yeah?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes, you daft bugger. Of course I do."
"Call me Harry?" he asked.
Draco brushed his thumb over Harry's cheek, "Harry," he murmured softly and Harry's eyes fluttered shut. "Are you going to panic again if I try to kiss you?"
He opened his eyes and shook his head slowly.
The corner of Draco's mouth tilted up and he leaned in, pressing his lips softly to Harry's and Harry felt like he was flying. Heart leaping out of his chest as Draco's lips moved softly against his.
And suddenly, it didn't matter any more. All of the things that Harry had been afraid of, all of the challenges they would face, they were all brought to nothing in the light of this. Because Harry was quite certain that there was nothing on this earth better than kissing Draco Malfoy and he would do whatever he needed to do to keep kissing him for the rest of their lives.