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It was a complete accident that Harry glanced over at the clock and realized just how much time he and Draco had spent chatting in the Gryffindor common room.
“Cripes,” Harry groaned, his head moving against Draco’s sweater as he turned to look up at him. “You know we should’ve been in bed three hours ago?”
Draco muttered a curse, his nose wrinkling in that adorable way it did when he was bothered. Unable to stop himself, Harry reached up and brushed his nose with a fingertip, and the creases disappeared. Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, but he couldn’t fool Harry. “It’s all your fault, Potter, you got me started on giant squids.”
“Yes, yes, all my fault,” Harry said happily. He felt terribly cozy like this, laying back against Draco, whose arms were crossed over Harry’s jumper. Harry could feel Draco’s chest rise and fall as he breathed. “Remind me how many species there are again?”
“Twenty-seven discovered species,” Draco said automatically, “But there’s speculation-- Oh, shove off.” He made a weak attempt at pushing Harry off him, but Harry grabbed on to the side of the sofa and held on tight. Draco huffed irritably, his breath ruffling Harry’s hair. “We have a train, tomorrow, in case you forgot.”
“I didn’t.”
“And for Merlin’s sake, Potter, I have a curfew.”
Harry shrugged. “So, get up.”
Draco hmphed, pressing his face into the crook of Harry’s shoulder. “You’re too warm.”
They lay like that for a moment, listening to the fire crackle and the Gryffindor grandfather clock tick onward. In the corner of the common room, a Christmas tree glimmered, the enchanted candles nestled within its branches blinking with red and white flames. Harry was excited to visit the Burrow, but it would be a long break away from Draco, who had to return home. Bittersweetness bloomed in Harry’s chest, and he took one of Draco’s hands, brushing the lines of his palms with his fingertips. He pressed their palms together, marveling at how much longer and more delicate Draco’s fingers were compared to his.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Draco murmured, and he laced Harry’s fingers with his.
“You could sleep here, you know.”
“And get hexed by a couple of upstart prefects? No, thank you.”
Harry twisted awkwardly to press a kiss to Draco’s jaw, grinning at the expression of surprise that crossed his pale face. “I’ll protect you.”
“I’m sure you will,” Draco replied, his eyes sliding closed. They really had been talking for hours. Draco yawned and so did Harry. “Savior Potter.”
Your savior, Harry thought sleepily as he buried his face into Draco’s jumper; he smelled of cologne and parchment. Across the room, the fire burned to glowing coals.