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Harry finds Draco huddled on the floor at the top of the astronomy tower. He doesn’t acknowledge Harry, continuing to stare blankly at the sky. The night is cold and clear but the moonlight shining into the tower is weak, leaving Draco’s face in shadows. Harry hesitates at the top of the stairs for a moment, unsure of his welcome, before he fully climbs into the tower and leans against one of the stone pillars to wait. He’d come up here looking for Draco, but he hadn’t actually figured out a plan for what to do when he found him. Draco breaks into the silence before Harry can think of what to say.
“There are several stories about how draco was put in the sky,” Draco says.
“Er, why are you talking about yourself in third person?”
Draco makes a disgusted noise and Harry can see his silhouette wince in a way that clearly indicates he’s rolling his eyes. “The constellation, Potter. Honestly, we’re on the fucking astronomy tower.”
“It wasn’t really one of my stronger subjects.”
“Obviously,” Draco says scathingly and then slumps back into his huddle a little deeper. When he speaks again his tone is still hard, but without all the indignation. “There are a few different versions, but most of them involve a dragon being killed by a hero and then tossed up into the sky for all eternity. Draco, defeated and on display.”
It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, even if Draco can’t see him. “Draco, that’s not—-”
“Why did you kiss me the other day?”
Harry thinks he might be suffering some conversational whiplash, but it’s an easy enough question to answer. This thing between them has been building all year, since they’d returned to Hogwarts, and kissing Draco felt like an inevitable conclusion.
“Because I wanted to. And I think you wanted me to,” Harry says.
“It doesn’t matter what either of us wants.” Draco sits up, jabbing a hand at the sky. “Draco, I can see it; it’s right there. It’s circumpolar; you can see it year round. Always. It never changes. The stars, the story, you can’t just decide to—to rewrite them or something.”
Harry crosses the tower and drops down on his knees next to Draco. He spins him around so more of his face is in the light. “Will you stop talking in weird astronomy metaphors?”
Now that Harry can see Draco’s face, he sees the glare leveled at him. And the uncertainty and fear in Draco’s eyes. “Fine. Fine, then we can talk about what’s actually here. Right here. Look at where we are. You told me you were here that night, so you saw what happened. Do you think wanting does anything to change what happened that night? What I did that night? Or anything else I did after that?”
“I think,” Harry starts slowly as he strokes his hands up and down Draco’s arms. “I think you’re a human, down here on Earth, and not some stars stuck up in the sky. And you can change. And—and we can’t rewrite anything, but we can continue writing the next part… together.”
Draco stares at him for a second and then sags into him. He mumbles into Harry’s shoulder, “I thought you wanted to stop talking in metaphors.”
“Fuck off,” Harry says with a laugh and then wraps his arms around Draco in a tight hug. They sit like that for a while before Harry says, “I want to kiss you again.”
Draco doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but he doesn’t move to break out of the hug either. Then, so slowly and so quietly that Harry feels like he needs to hold his breath to hear it, he says, “I want you to.”
So Harry does.