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"Did you hear Smith dumped a potion on Malfoy?"
Harry's head snapped up from where he'd been directing all his attention at the roast on his plate. He looked over at where Seamus was talking to Dean a few seats down the Gryffindor table.
"What?" Harry said.
Seamus looked over at him, a crooked grin on his face.
"Yeah," he said, laughing airily. "Right on his head. He claimed it was an accident but… didn't look much like an accident to me."
Harry didn't doubt that. Zacharias Smith was well known for being a raging arse.
"What kind of potion was it?" Harry asked.
"Inhibition dampener," Neville interjected. "And it definitely wasn't an accident." Neville seemed far less amused than Seamus was.
Harry wasn't too familiar with that type of potion, but they'd been given freedom to attempt brewing things they were interested in in Slughorn's class for the past couple of weeks.
"What did it do?" Harry asked.
"Well, Malfoy tried to punch Smith right in the face," Seamus said. "So I imagine it worked, though it's hard to tell with him. Slughorn took him to the hospital wing. Malfoy was shouting at him all the way down the hall."
Seamus was snickering, and only paused to shove a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. For some reason, Harry didn't find this all that funny. He glanced over at the Slytherin table, but Malfoy wasn't there. Pansy Parkinson happened to glance up in his direction, and a strange sort of expression came across her face. Harry looked away quickly.
After dinner, he made his way up to the eighth years' common room. Hermione and Ron were there, on the rug in front of the fireplace. Hermione held a book in her lap and was reading it aloud to Ron where he laid on his back beside her. They'd left dinner before Harry got there after he'd been held up by Professor McGonagall. He tried not to feel a twinge of jealousy at how much time the two of them had been spending together, without him. He was happy for them. Truly. He was just… a bit lonely sometimes.
"Hi Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him with a smile.
"Hey," he said, smiling back.
Harry continued on to the polished wood staircases at the back of the common room that led up to the dormitories, taking the one on the right side and sliding his hand along the smooth railing. He knelt down by his trunk and dug out the Marauders Map. His eyes immediately flicked to the hospital wing. Poppy Pomfrey. And a few other names. But no Malfoy. He squinted and looked down at the Slytherin common room. Nope. His dorm in the eighth years' tower. Not there. Huh.
He scanned the map for a few minutes, trying to pick out the name he was searching for amongst the many, many others. Finally, it caught his eye. Malfoy was outside, on the covered bridge. Harry glanced at the window. It was dark, and glittering snow drifted against the glass. What was he doing out there? Was he safe, if he was still under the effects of the potion? Harry folded the map up and stuffed it in his cloak, in case Malfoy moved before he got to him. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and made his way back out into the common area.
Hermione glanced up at him again. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"Walk," he said.
She looked at him skeptically, but nodded. Harry had learned long ago not to mention Malfoy to them if he wanted to avoid exasperated (Ron) and all-too-knowing (Hermione) looks from his friends.
He didn't think the blond Slytherin was up to anything nefarious anymore. No… it was not that, that always had him wondering where he was. Malfoy was different this year. The war had changed everyone, and he was obviously no exception. Harry had seen the memories they'd forced from him during his trial. He couldn't seem to find animosity for Malfoy anymore, after that. Malfoy was subdued and distant and he always seemed terribly sad. He avoided Harry like the plague and when they did cross paths, he just looked at him with those sad gray eyes before he disappeared again. He never spent time in the common area. He hardly said anything in classes. Harry almost wished he'd try to start a fight with him, just to see a little fire in him again.
When Harry pushed through the doors of the courtyard that led to the covered bridge, a blast of icy air shocked him from his thoughts. The moon was a sliver of light, passing in and out of visibility behind the snow-stuffed clouds. Fat snowflakes floated down slowly, as if suspended, like the castle was a giant snow globe. The golden light from the windows stretched across the snow-dusted courtyard. Harry's breath puffed in front of him, his boots crunching on the frosty ground. As he neared the bridge, he saw that Malfoy was still there. He was standing with his forearms against the rail, his breath clouding in a slow rhythm as he stared out into the darkness.
The snow crunched extra loud under Harry's next step, and Malfoy jerked his head up. Harry stopped. Malfoy's eyes flitted over Harry's face and he tilted forward a step, but then seemed to stop himself. He stood rigidly in the darkness.
"Malfoy?" Harry said. "What are you doing?"
"Go away, Potter," he growled, his teeth clenched.
Harry tilted his head and took another step forward.
"Stop," Malfoy gasped out.
He was leaning toward Harry ever so slightly, his eyes fixed to Harry's face. His expression was tense and difficult to read. He grabbed the rail beside him and squeezed it tightly.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, still coming closer.
"Please," Malfoy said, his voice nearly a whimper.
This caused Harry to stall. Malfoy sounded desperate, and scared.
"Please, just go back inside," Malfoy said. His voice wobbled precariously and he closed his eyes tightly.
Harry didn't know what to do. Something was very obviously wrong. Had Madam Pomfrey not been able to counteract the potion? And if that was the case, what was Malfoy doing alone, on a bridge, at night?
"Malfoy, why are you out here?" Harry asked again, carefully.
"Because I can't fucking be around people like this," Malfoy ground out.
"Is the potion still affecting you?" Harry asked.
Malfoy didn't answer. He closed his eyes again and turned his face to the wooden slats beneath his feet. He was attempting to take deep breaths, but his shoulders were shaking visibly. Harry very slowly walked closer. Malfoy was so focused on what he was doing that he didn't notice. Harry stopped a few inches from the Slytherin. He examined his face in the low light for a few seconds. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, his pale hair dotted with snowflakes as they drifted under the bridge's roof. His blond eyelashes quivered against his skin as he struggled with himself.
Harry carefully lifted his hands and placed them on Malfoy's wrists. Malfoy reacted viscerally, his eyes snapping open. His pupils were blown wide, the silver of his irises a thin line around the edge. Before Harry could process this, he was suddenly being kissed very thoroughly. He made a muffled sound of surprise and his hands shot up to Malfoy's shoulders, but he didn't push him away.
Rational thought fled his mind so quickly he didn't have time to notice it happening. He kissed back, opening his mouth to let Malfoy's tongue inside it. Malfoy let out a reedy moan into his mouth, his hands gripping desperately at the front of Harry's robes. Harry lost himself to the kiss. He slid his hand up the back of Malfoy's head, curling his fingers into his hair gently. Malfoy's mouth was hot on his. He was attempting to get as physically close to Harry as possible, his hands grappling for purchase on his back and tugging Harry against his chest.
Harry tilted away slightly, but Malfoy chased him, and he let the kiss continue. It wasn't as if he wanted to stop, but alarm bells were ringing. Something was still wrong. He put a hand on Malfoy's chest and pushed ever so slightly. Malfoy broke away with a thin whine.
"Harry," he said, and then dropped his forehead onto Harry's shoulder.
A flash of surprised heat overtook Harry from head to toe. Malfoy had never once called him Harry like that before. Harry slid his arms around his waist and squeezed gently.
"Draco," he said softly.
A violent shudder rippled through Draco's body. Draco kissed at his jaw, his teeth lightly scraping Harry's skin, trying to get at his neck around the scarf.
"Hang on," Harry said.
"Mmmm," Draco hummed, as if he was in pain.
"I'm not saying I'm not okay with this, because believe me, I am," Harry said. "But is this the potion, or you?"
"All fuckin' me," Draco grumbled, hands clinging to the back of Harry's robes. "That's what the bloody potion does. Makes me do what I want to no matter how much I try to stop myself."
Harry let this information rattle around in his brain for a few seconds.
"So you… you wanted to kiss me?"
Draco picked his head up and looked at Harry. He was so close, and his eyes were dark and swirling with desire.
"I've wanted to kiss you for fucking years, Potter," he replied, his voice low.
He tipped his head back and groaned. "Fuck," he hissed. "Makes me say what I bloody want to as well."
Harry couldn't help himself. He grinned.
"Wipe that look off your pretty face, Potter," Malfoy growled at him. Which was quickly followed by an another heartfelt "fuck."
Harry laughed, looking up at Draco, who was biting his bottom lip and trying not to look at Harry.
"You think my face is pretty?" he asked.
"Yes," Draco said immediately, and then scowled at him. "Stop it," he said.
"I think your face is pretty too," Harry said, smiling placatingly at him.
Draco blushed beautifully. A shiver ran through his body, this time seemingly from the biting wind that was whipping up around their ankles. Draco tipped his head forward so his forehead rested against Harry's.
"How long have you been out here?" Harry asked gently, linking his hands together behind Draco's back to hold onto him more securely.
Draco shrugged. "While," he said.
"How long until the potion wears off?" Harry asked.
"Another hour, maybe," Draco replied.
"Let's go inside," Harry said. "You're cold."
"You're warm," Draco said, and then winced.
He seemed to not be fighting the potion as much anymore, but was still not immune to finding the words tumbling out of his mouth embarrassing.
"I'll be warm inside, too," Harry chuckled, tugging at Draco's hand.
Draco followed behind him like a lost crup. Harry glanced back at him as they walked and found him watching him with wide, uncertain eyes. He clearly hadn't expected Harry to be reciprocal to his advances. Harry smiled slightly to himself. They made their way to the kitchens, where Harry asked the elves for hot chocolate. They provided it happily.
Sitting on opposite sides of a table was clearly not what Draco wanted to do, as his hand kept inching forward across the tabletop toward Harry's before he reined in control and yanked it back. Harry caught it on the third attempt and laced his fingers between Draco's. Draco stared at their hands as if what he was seeing was impossible. He sipped absently at his mug and it left a smudge of hot chocolate on his upper lip. Harry very much wanted to kiss it away. Unfortunately, he still had inhibitions, and he knew they needed to talk about this.
"Draco," Harry said.
Draco's eyes darted to his. "You're calling me Draco," he said.
"Is that okay?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Draco replied.
"Are you going to try to pretend this didn't happen when the potion wears off?" Harry asked.
"Probably," Draco replied honestly.
"What if you don't?" Harry said.
"You… you don't want me to?" Draco asked uncertainly.
"No," Harry said, smiling at him. "I really, really don't."
"I don't understand," Draco said.
He was as vulnerable as Harry had ever seen him, and Harry simultaneously loved and hated it. He considered punching Zacharias Smith in the face and then thanking him.
"You said you've wanted to kiss me for years," Harry said.
Draco's gaze slid to the side uneasily.
"Well, it's a mutual sentiment," Harry said, his heart thundering as he admitted it aloud for the very first time.
Draco stared at him, eyes wide. "Really?" he whispered.
Harry nodded. "I think I only realized it this year but… it's always been there."
"Oh," Draco said.
"Oh," Harry echoed.
They were silent for a few moments.
"Draco," Harry said. Merlin, he would never get tired of saying his name.
Draco looked at him expectantly.
"You have chocolate on your mouth," Harry said.
Draco lifted his unoccupied hand to wipe at his mouth, but Harry grabbed it and stopped him, and then he stood up and leaned over the table. Draco met him easily. He tasted like chocolate. He pushed closer to Harry, biting at his lower lip and then smoothing it over with his tongue. He started as his chair scraped back against the stone floor and Harry was left staring into the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen from very, very close. Heat rose in his face and he slid back into his chair.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked.
"I think- I think it's starting to wear off," Draco said, still leaning with his palms in the middle of the table.
"Good," Harry said.
He stood up and floated their empty mugs over to the counter for the elves. Then he turned to Draco and held out his hand. Draco looked down at it hesitantly for a moment, and then slid his palm against Harry's. Harry could see the color rising on his face and bit back a smile.
"Back to the common room?" Harry asked.
Draco wavered for a moment. He stared at their joined hands.
"Draco?" Harry said.
"I- I don't," Draco started to say, and then huffed.
The potion was definitely wearing off. Draco lifted their entwined hands in a motion of uncertainty, then squeezed tighter.
"Hey, don't worry," Harry said. "I'm not worried about it, okay? We've been through enough shit. We might as well do what we want to now."
He smiled at Draco and the Slytherin gave him a watery one in return. Now that the potion wasn't loosening his tongue, he was quiet. Harry led him out of the kitchens and back up to the eighth years' tower. They walked in silence. It wasn't terribly uncomfortable, but Harry could feel anxiety radiating off of Draco in waves.
"What about Granger and Weasley?" he eventually asked.
Harry shrugged. He truly didn't know how they would react, but he also didn't really care. The last few hours had been an unbelievable string of events, and he was going to ride this high for as long as possible. Forever would be ideal. When they passed through the entryway, Draco tugged his hand out of Harry's. Harry let it go. He didn't want to push him. He pulled his scarf off and tossed it on the back of the sofa. Ron and Hermione were still in front of the fireplace, but they were both laying down now, talking with their faces turned toward each other, the book laying open on Hermione's stomach. Draco hesitated.
"Come on," Harry said, waving him toward the sofa.
Hermione and Ron looked up at him. Draco stood there for a moment, and then followed Harry cautiously. He sat down next to him on the sofa.
"Hi," Harry said.
"Erm, hello," Ron replied.
Hermione pushed herself up and looked between the two of them, her eyes sharp. "How was your walk, Harry?"
"Great, actually," Harry smiled. "What are you reading?"
"Quidditch Across History," Hermione replied. "Did you know anyone on the team used to be able to catch the snitch, before they added the position of seeker?"
"No, I didn't," Harry said.
"I did," Draco said quietly from beside him.
Hermione and Ron looked at him silently.
"Why did they change it?" Harry asked Draco.
Draco looked at him, and Harry saw the fear in his eyes. He smiled at him encouragingly.
"I- uh- the matches used to get too chaotic if everyone was abandoning their positions to go after the snitch," Draco managed.
Ron snorted from the floor and Draco jumped. "Imagine the whole bloody team after the snitch at once," Ron said. "Bet that was a sight."
Draco's lips twitched up slightly and he nodded in agreement. The conversation carried on, shifting topics naturally, and the tension in Draco's body gradually loosened. Harry glanced over at him to see his eyes growing heavy, his lashes fluttering as he blinked tiredly. Harry inched closer to him. Draco noticed the movement and looked at him, conflicted, but clearly holding back.
Harry shrugged. "Pretend the potion is still working," he said quietly.
Draco stared at him for a moment, and then he let his body tilt to the side. He pulled his knees up onto the couch and laid his head on Harry's lap, closing his eyes. Harry set his hand gently on Draco's shoulder. Hermione and Ron had both frozen mid conversation and were looking at them.
"Should we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Harry asked, carrying on as if nothing was unusual.
His friends blinked at him for a few seconds.
"Um," Ron said.
Hermione finally seemed to find her composure. "Sure, Harry, we can," she said.
"Great, I want to go to the Three Broomsticks," Harry said.
Hermione and Ron continued to shoot baffled looks at Draco, but Harry kept the topic away from him. Eventually, Draco's breathing evened out and his fingers twitched gently against Harry's thigh. Harry looked down at him. His lips were parted slightly, and his fringe had fallen over his eyebrows. Harry brushed it away gently.
"Harry?" Hermione said softly.
He looked up at her. She was staring at him with a questioning expression on her face.
"The potion took away his inhibitions," Harry said, shrugging. "And I decided to ignore mine."
Ron snorted. "About time," he grumbled. "But I still don't wanna see it, mate."
Harry grinned and rolled his eyes. "Not my problem, Ron," he said.