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Draco was hunched in the far corner of the great hall, head in his hands. Harry approached him at once, and as he drew closer, he could hear the other man crying.
“Draco,” he said softly. Malfoy rubbed the hair out of his eyes miserably before begrudgingly looking up from his knees. Harry offered out his hand, palm up for Draco to take. He did, letting Harry pull him to his feet, and they met eyes. Draco’s were red and raw, filled with shame and misery. Harry’s were desperate and earnest, and incredibly tired. He so badly wanted to go find somewhere far away to not think, not talk, just sleep. But he wanted to do this even more.
Not breaking their gaze, Harry stepped forward and embraced the man who was no longer his enemy. Draco reciprocated at once, and both of them held on to each other as if they were the only tangible things in the room. Harry knew people were watching, but he didn’t care. Tears had started to fall from his own eyes and he buried his face in Draco’s shoulder.
Draco was crying again too, and Harry pulled back gently, enough to let Draco throw both his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry supported his weight, joining his hands together behind Draco’s back and resting their heads reassuringly together. They stayed like that for ages, Harry savoring the warm feeling of Draco’s chest pressed against his own. Draco hugged him like he wanted to make up for every instance of teasing and malice and violence of the last seven years, but it would still never be enough. Harry tried to hold him like it would be.
They were hugging out of desperate, aching need. With the battle over and the culmination of what Harry now realized was several years of Draco struggling against his family’s dark associations, after everything they had been through at Hogwarts this was the only thing he could imagine doing to Draco Malfoy. There was no need to be bitter or scathing. The old ingrained desire to lash out had long since dissipated. Now he truly understood where the other man landed...Harry drew Draco against him even tighter. He had no plans of letting him go anytime soon.
Draco fisted his hands in the back of Harry’s shirt and, drawing a raspy breath, finally spoke.
“Thank you.” His voice was gravelly and hoarse, and it was so strange to hear those words coming out of his mouth. “Thank you...for coming back for me. In the Room. I didn’t deserve that.”
“Shut up,” Harry said into Draco’s shirt. “I wasn’t about to leave you.” He gulped, his own voice shaking. “Besides, you saved my life back in your manor. You didn’t give me away...thank you.” There was a pause.
“I was a coward,” Draco said harshly. “I tortured people—for him. I did whatever he asked...”
“I know,” Harry said gently. “But he would have killed you if you hadn’t.”
“I don’t deserve to be alive,” Draco cut in, and Harry abruptly pulled back, letting Draco’s hands fall into place on Harry’s shoulders and holding Draco’s arms firmly, forcing the other man to look at him.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” He said it slowly and forcefully, and stood looking fiercely into Draco’s grey eyes for a few seconds. Draco bowed his head in acknowledgement. Harry shifted nervously. “Malfoy, I’m--I never told you—about last year...in the bathroom. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Draco said quietly.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know.” A pause. “I’m sorry I broke your nose on the train.”
Harry almost smiled, looking down at his shoes. “That’s alright.”
“I--I did mean to hurt you.” Harry looked back up at him.
“I know.” The weight of the battle was coming back to Harry now, he could feel the exhaustion returning, ready to consume him. He had to go somewhere else. He looked away. “Look, Malfoy, I have to—I’m...well, I’m really tired...” Malfoy nodded at once.
“Of course.” He turned as if about to leave, all the expressions vanishing from his face. Something turned inside of Harry, fear, maybe, he wasn’t quite sure, but he reached out his hand to touch Malfoy’s shoulder again.
“Wait! I think—maybe we should talk about this again sometime.” Draco met his eyes once more, confused. Harry shook his head, and found the words he really meant to say. “I mean, Malfoy, I’d like to talk to you again soon. If that’s okay with you.” The confusion in Draco’s eyes melted away.
“Okay.” Harry was about to turn away, but one final impulse crossed his mind, and he held out his hand for Draco to shake.
“Come find me, alright?”
Draco’s eyes widened at the gesture, and Harry gave him a tentative smile. Almost as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, Malfoy reached out and took Harry’s hand, smiling back. “I will.”
They shook.
“Lumos,” Harry whispered, and Draco jumped about a mile in the air at the sight of Harry’s glowing wand in midair. Harry grinned broadly, shrugging off the invisibility cloak.
“Blimey, Potter,” he muttered, but shot Harry a smile.
“Cool, right? Savor this moment, it’s not everyday you come face to face with a real Peverell-family heirloom.”
“Famous Harry Potter, finally embracing his noble heritage,” Draco smirked, but nudged Harry’s arm affectionately. “C’mon. Show me what’s it’s like sneaking around the castle your way.”
Harry bundled the cloak out from under his arm and drew it around both of their shoulders. They started down the hallway, knocking into each other a lot since they were both so tall. Harry didn’t know why, but his stomach gave a small jump every time Malfoy’s shoulder brushed against his own. Gosh, it was so much better being Malfoy’s friend. He couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face.
“What’s is it?” Draco asked.
“Nothing,” Harry replied quickly, but steered Malfoy off to the side of the hallway next to a suit of armor. “C’mon, we’d better check the map.” He pulled the blank parchment of the Marauders’ Map out of his back pocket, flicking his wand out of his sleeve and tapping it to the paper’s surface. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Malfoy snorted. “No shit, Potter.” Harry grinned, studying the map’s surface.
“Look!” he said suddenly, pointing out two of the tiny sets of footprints inked onto the halls of Hogwarts castle. “Filch is coming our way now, thirty seconds out, I’d say. McGonagall is headed right in the direction of the room, but I bet we can beat her if we hurry!” He shoved the map and his wand back in his pocket. Draco started to protest but, with a rush of adrenaline, Harry took Draco’s hand in his own, gathered the long folds of the cloak off the ground with his other hand, and took off down the long corridor.
“You're insane, Potter!” Malfoy hissed at him, reluctant but matching Harry’s strides easily. Harry turned back to him, flashing a grin.
“No shit, Malfoy.” Malfoy snorted again, but squeezed Harry’s hand and ran with him down the hallway. They rounded the last corner and Harry saw the door of the room. “Here,” he said, whipping out his wand to unlock the door. They both dived inside and locked the door behind them, just as McGonagall's footsteps appeared in the hallway outside on the map.
Harry crossed the room quickly to the great ornate mirror, still standing sedately in its corner. He tugged off the purple cloth that covered the glass and it tumbled to the floor, sending puffs of dust into the air around the frame. Harry beckoned eagerly to Draco, who was lingering across the room with some apprehension. “C’mere! Just stand right...there.” Draco crossed the room a bit nervously, giving Harry a small smile as he met his eyes, then stepped where Harry had indicated, raising his eyes to look in the glass.
“What do you see?” Harry asked eagerly after a few seconds. Draco hesitated.
“Nothing. I mean, not nothing, but I just see us, like I would in a normal mirror.”
“What?” Harry’s head jerked up quickly, then away again. “That’s not—maybe something’s wrong with it. Are you sure that’s all you see? Nothing around the edges? Just...just you and me?”
Draco nodded. He caught a glimpse of confusion in Harry’s eyes, as well as something else, and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, what should I see? What is this mirror supposed to show?”
Fingering the jeweled rim of the old mirror, Harry looked down at his shoes and muttered “Your heart’s deepest, most desperate desire.”
There was silence. Then Draco laughed nervously. “Blimey, Harry. If you weren’t my friend, I’d say that was a pretty devious plan. Anyway, I guess I couldn’t keep sitting on this forever...” Harry looked up at him curiously. Draco gulped, but forced himself to meet Harry’s eyes.
“Harry, these last few months getting to know you—the real you—they've been the best of my life. I know I was completely horrible to you in school, and nothing could ever make up for that. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you never wanted to speak to me again. But because you did...because you have...” Harry’s eyes were shining as he held Draco’s gaze. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Harry.” His voice broke a little. “And this—” he took Harry’s hands in his own, briefly, gently holding his fingers before letting them fall again. “This. Sneaking around the castle with you. Plotting with you instead of against you. Laughing with you, standing by your side—it's what I’ve always wanted most.”
“Draco,” Harry whispered, and pulled the other man against his chest.
“The mirror isn’t broken,” Draco repeated, voice muffled against Harry’s shoulder.
“Draco,” Harry said again. “Are you sure that’s all?”
“What?” Malfoy said, and Harry could hear the edge of panic in his voice, but he pulled back anyway. His heart was pounding as he realized why he had taken Draco’s hand earlier in the hallway. Maybe the Mirror of Erised wasn’t broken, but Harry didn’t need to look to confirm what he wanted most in that moment.
“Draco,” he whispered once more, taking both the other man’s hands in his own. “Draco,” he said softly as he leaned closer, glancing down bashfully before gazing again into those stormy eyes. “Draco.” The faintest murmur before Harry kissed him.
Malfoy kissed him back at once, and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him closer. Harry placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders, savoring the feeling of him so close, then inched one hand around to the base of his neck, weaving his fingers through Draco’s hair. He felt Draco shiver at the touch. This was new, but it was so good. So easy. Harry held Malfoy’s face gently in both of his hands and kissed him long and deep.
At last they drew apart, and Harry pressed their foreheads together. Draco was crying. Harry could feel the burn in his eyes as well. He gently wiped the tears from under Malfoy’s eyes with his thumbs. This was new, but it was so good. Harry felt the affection blossoming in his heart for the man in his arms, and he thought in that moment how wonderful it would be to fight for Draco Malfoy, not against him. He could do that. He would be so good at that.
Harry was really crying now, and he felt Draco’s hands on his back as he pulled him into a proper hug once more.
“You know, I spent most of sixth year thinking about you,” Harry said pensively, out of the darkness. Draco smirked, turning on his side to look at him briefly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Harry smiled fervently. “I was always trying to find you on the map, and you didn’t show up because you were in the room. It drove me nuts. I stopped caring about quidditch, and classes...I had to know what you were up to.” Malfoy was silent. Then:
“How soon did you figure it out?”
Harry turned to look at him. “It was about March when I guessed.”
“Took you long enough, then,” Malfoy tried to joke, but Harry could hear the hesitancy in his voice. Harry reached out and gently tugged Malfoy’s left arm out from under his head, and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the glistening black of his dark mark. He felt Draco inhale sharply but he didn’t pull away, and allowed Harry to slowly trace the inky lines with his finger. Brushing his skin lightly from the skull, through the figure-eight pattern of the snake’s twisted form and out to the fanged head. Harry felt Draco shiver at his touch, then still more as he bent to brush his lips over the soft skin above Malfoy’s wrist.
“It doesn’t change anything,” Harry whispered softly, interlocking his fingers with Draco’s and scooting closer to press his forehead against the other boy’s. He felt Draco squeeze his hand gratefully, and smile bashfully as he met Harry’s eyes. Harry grinned back, and felt Draco’s other hand wind through the hair at the back of his neck just before Draco kissed him.
“What was your favorite year at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, taking a swig of pumpkin juice as they sat on the dock overlooking the great lake.
“Third for sure,” Malfoy said at once. “I had the most excuses to tease you.” Harry spit out half his pumpkin juice trying not to smile and caught Draco’s eye, who was grinning at him delightedly.
“I don't know,” Harry replied, elbowing Draco in the ribs affectionately. “Your insults were pretty bad that year.” Draco laughed, and Harry’s stomach flipped over.
“Well, I was spending a lot of time pretending to be injured.”
“Those flobberworms sure are vicious,” Harry said, returning his grin. “Third was a good one though. It felt pretty great beating you in the last quidditch game.” Draco chuckled, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders and squeezing him lightly.
“I was always too proud to admit that you were faster than me.”
“Bet I’m faster that you at running, too,” Harry challenged. He reached up to take Draco’s hand that was draped over his shoulder, casually lacing their fingers together. Draco whistled beside him.
“Oh, you’re on Potter. But I should probably warn you that I—”
But Harry abruptly jumped up, shrugging off Malfoy’s arm and backed away, grinning and poised to run. “Let’s see it then.” He took off. Draco dove after him at once.
“Hey!” he shouted as he sprinted after Harry, laughing. Harry put his head down and ran, feeling the wind rushing around his ears and cold over his face, his feet driving into the field as they raced in the direction of the forbidden forest. Soon, however, Malfoy’s slightly longer strides caught up with him and both boys stood laughing in the middle of the grounds. “Alright, let’s see how you are at chasing,” Draco said with a wink, tearing off in the other direction.
Harry dove after him, grinning, but determined not to be bested twice. He focused on the shape of Malfoy ahead of him, locking in his strides and putting on a burst of speed—
Malfoy slid to a halt abruptly and whirled around, catching Harry as he barreled into him.
“Whoa!” Harry laughed as they both tumbled to the ground. He had just gotten to his knees when Draco tackled him again, kissing him fiercely. Harry’s stomach somersaulted, just like it did every time Draco Malfoy kissed him. He never got tired of it, and he sighed happily, savoring the feeling of Draco’s slightly whiskery chin and his hand in Harry’s hair. He could feel the other boy smile against his lips before pulling away and burying Harry in a hug.
“What was that for?” Harry asked, smiling and nuzzling his face into Draco’s shoulder.
“Nothing,” Draco said, withdrawing to look at Harry, eyes twinkling. “I just love you.” Harry grinned as Draco pulled him to his feet and reached out to ruffle the longer locks of blonde hair that fell into his eyes.
“I love you too.”
“Harry.” Harry froze, then slowly pivoted with a resigned feeling. He should have known this was coming. It wasn’t like Malfoy was an idiot, he would have noticed something eventually. He raised his head to meet Malfoy’s eyes, which were concerned. It was still strange to see empathy pouring out of someone like Malfoy, and Harry had to remind himself that this wasn’t the same person, the Draco Malfoy he had known growing up was a very different. He kept doing that, too. Calling him Malfoy, or Draco Malfoy, like he was someone unfamiliar or adversarial still. Instead of just...Draco. His best friend. The person he felt like he could talk to about anything, the first person he felt like talking to about everything. Gosh, he still terrified Harry so much.
“Hey,” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. Draco returned it, but still looked concerned. He walked up to Harry, nudging him with his shoulder, then pulling him into a hug. Harry held him tightly, burying his face in Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s scent washed over him, familiar and warm and safe, and suddenly Harry didn’t feel nervous at all. He could do this, he could talk to him. If he could talk to anybody, he could talk to him.
“Can I tell you something?” He asked quietly, getting the words out at last.
“Course you can. Let’s go for a walk?” Draco pulled away, giving Harry a reassuring smile, and Harry nodded gratefully, emboldened suddenly and grabbing Malfoy’s hand. Draco grinned at him, squeezing Harry’s hand tighter, and Harry grinned back, feeling the heat rising in the back of his neck, stomach somersaulting at his friend’s touch. It was moments like this when it hit him deepest. He just wanted to say it so badly, but every time he hesitated. Because he wondered if it was too late now, if Draco didn’t feel the same way, if it was ridiculous to even think about saying something like that after all they had been through. If it would seem cheap. But it had been building inside of him, and he couldn’t keep it in any longer.
They walked through the halls and out onto the grounds, talking easily. It was always so easy to talk to him, but Harry’s nervousness returned in full force as they both slowed at the base of a tall sycamore tree and turned to face each other. Harry drew a shaky breath.
“So...I guess this is a good place...” he felt awkward.
“It’s great,” Draco said, and Harry felt Draco nudge his foot with his own. His heart leapt into his throat; it was now or never.
“The thing is, there’s something that I should have said back there, in the hall. When I took your hand.” Harry took a shaky breath, then barreled on. “Something I probably should have said a hundred times before now, because you mean so much to me. You always ask me how I’m doing and you know when I’m lying about it. You challenge me in the best way—the way that I need. I just want to be around you all the time and talk to you about everything or just be near you, and...I just need to tell you that...” he trailed off, but shook his head, but gulped, and forced himself to look up into his face. He thought it might be the bravest thing he’d ever done. Draco’s eyes paralyzed him, and the force of the stormy grey gaze gave him strength. “That I love you. Draco Malfoy. Draco. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t look away, and Malfoy kept looking at him, face slowly breaking into a wide smile. Harry’s heart leapt, it always did when he did that, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling ridiculously too.
Impulsively, Harry reached out and threw his arms around Malfoy’s neck, laughing. “Gosh, I’ve wanted to say that so bad, you have no idea. I love you. I love you.” Malfoy was laughing too, hugging Harry back fiercely. Then he pulled away slightly so that Harry’s hands fell, and Draco took both of them gently in his own.
“Harry, were you afraid I wouldn’t feel the same way?”
“Yeah, I suppose so, Harry admitted. Malfoy sighed, stroking Harry’s wrists, and leaning forward to nudge Harry’s nose with his own. He looked at his feet, smiling sheepishly, then said
“Harry, I’ve loved you since our first year.”
That stunned Harry completely. “Well...I--you—really?” Draco laughed at the look of utter surprise on Harry’s face, and wrapped one arm lovingly around Harry’s waist, gently brushing his black hair out of his eyes with the other and kissing him.
“Really,” he murmured against Harry’s lips.
Malfoy is slumped on the couch in the common room, book propped against the side of the cushion. Harry crosses to him almost without thinking, halfheartedly pulling out a book of his own, intending to study. Within seconds, however, his eyes are fluttering closed and he slides sideways onto Malfoy’s shoulder. Draco smiles, unsurprised, and shifts to face more inward, tugging Harry against him so his head rests on Draco’s chest.
Harry snorts, but wraps his arms around Malfoy’s torso all the same. “You like me here.”
“Yes, I do,” Draco replies, kissing the top of Harry’s messy-haired head. Harry yawns, then snuggles back into the front of Draco’s sweater, eyes still closed.
“I like it too,” he murmurs against the folds of fabric. Draco grins, rubbing Harry’s shoulders and going back to his reading. The light in the common room dims as the evening passes on, the torches in their brackets fading into wisps of smoke. Gradually the room empties as the last few stragglers head up to bed, and the two eighth-years are alone, only the gentle pattering of the rain filling the space around them. Draco turns the last page and closes his textbook, placing it on the table next to the couch. He turns his head to look out the window at the moon, and the way its light reflects off the corners of the window frame. The way the raindrops look as they slide down the glass, distorted slightly by the magnification. He thinks about how everything has looked more beautiful since he’s been with Harry, idiot golden boy with his selflessness and his nobility, always getting Draco to question and look and think. Of course he would go and fall in love with a Gryffindor. Of course he fell in love with this Gryffindor.
“Harry,” Draco whispers softly, nudging his shoulder, trying to wake him as gently as possible. He thought about this, too, how gentle he is with Harry. He seemed to be trying to make up for the violence of their past. The careless, thoughtless way they used to throw hexes and words at each other, like it was the only option. Draco tried to show his affection for Harry with the same effusiveness. Now he couldn’t' imagine acting any other way around him.
Harry grumbled awake, pushing himself up off Draco’s chest and rubbing his eyes. “Come to bed?” Draco asked, offering out his hand. Harry took it, giving Draco a small smile as they both rose from the couch. Draco loved those smiles. The kind Harry seemed to give only to him, when no one else was around.
“Look at the moon,” Harry whispered, gazing out the same way Draco had been earlier.
“I knew you’d like it,” Draco said knowingly, smiling. Harry turned to grin at him, and threw an arm around Draco’s shoulders. Draco leaned into Harry, wrapping one arm around his waist and reaching up with his other to hold Harry’s hand. It felt good to be gentle.