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Harry was seated on a plush, purple armchair by the fire in the eighth year common room. Opposite from him sat Ron and Hermione on an orange love seat, Hermione tucked under Ron’s arm while she read a book. It was nearing 9pm so most eighth years were scattered around the room, chatting with their friends or doing homework. Dean Thomas and Blaise Zabini were currently engaged in a game of wizard’s chess, a few spectators lounging on the couches around them. Mandy Brocklehurst was whispering suggestions in Blaise’s ear which Seamus Finnigan loudly complained was cheating.
The cozy atmosphere was interrupted by the loud slamming of the hidden door that led to the common room. Harry glanced over to find Draco Malfoy storming through the room, turning his thunderous expression on anyone who dared look at him. When he caught Harry’s eyes, his expression faltered and he abruptly changed paths from the stairs leading up to the boys’ dormitory to Harry.
Harry tilted his head up to look at the blonde who had come to a stop in front of him. Draco huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, scowling back at Harry. A flush crept up his neck and dusted his cheeks with what Harry believed to be the prettiest shade of pink that he had ever seen.
“Is that seat taken?” Draco gestured to Harry, not looking away from his eyes. Harry glanced down, his eyebrows furrowed, before looking back up at Draco.
“That’s my lap,” he stated. Draco huffed again and rolled his eyes.
“Obviously, Potter. Is it taken or not?” he questioned again, annoyance seeping into his tone. Harry looked around the petulant blonde and was met with his friends’ equally bewildered expressions. When he looked back at Draco’s shifting eyes and blushing cheeks, Harry folded.
“No, it’s free,” he told Draco. The Slytherin sighed and promptly dropped into Harry’s lap. He settled himself sideways between Harry’s legs and curled into his chest. Harry’s nose twitched when it was tickled by Draco’s fine hair. His hand came to rest in the small of Draco’s back, stroking tentatively. Harry gazed fondly down at the man in his lap, his lips curling upwards when said man let out a content sigh.
A clearing of a throat made Harry jerk his head upwards. Hermione and Ron were both staring at him in disbelief. Harry glanced around to find that most of the room, in fact, was staring at him in incredulousness.
“What?” he asked defensively.
Ron seemed to jerk out of a trance and blurted, “Mate, what the fuck?”
“Um,” Harry answered inelegantly.
Draco shifted his head to glare at Ron and grumbled, “Fuck off, Weasley.” Harry chuckled, moving his other hand to comb through Draco’s hair, his head now turned back into Harry’s chest.
Harry and Draco had begun a tentative friendship at the beginning of the school year after Draco had apologised to him and thanked him for speaking at his trial. Their friendship had blossomed throughout the year, sitting with each other in classes and studying in the library together. They even spent Christmas together at Andromeda’s, Draco not wanting to go back to the manor and Harry wishing to spend the holidays with his godson rather than intruding on the Weasleys.
Harry had learnt that Draco was a very tactile person with people that he was close with. He would often plop his feet or head in Harry’s lap and demand a massage, but he had yet to fully sit in his lap. Until now, that is.
“Since when was this” – Hermione gestured with her hand to Draco and Harry – “a thing?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” Harry replied, feigning ignorance. He sincerely hoped that his friends couldn’t see the light blush on his cheeks. Hermione gave him a look and raised her eyebrow. Harry simply looked back down to the blonde occupying his lap, opting to ignore her.
Across the room, Seamus was hollering, “I knew it! Pay up lads. Yes, that includes you Macmillan.”
“Harry,” Hermione scolded, unrelenting.
“Look, Hermione, just leave it for now, okay?” Harry sighed. She narrowed her eyes at him but eventually looked back down at her book. Harry turned to Ron and picked up their previous conversation about Hagrid’s newest ‘pet’.
It eventually grew late, the only light coming from the dimming embers of the fire. Everyone had gone up to their dorms, except for the four sitting by the fireplace. Ron yawned widely, causing Hermione to look up from her book. Harry watched as her eyes visibly softened.
“Perhaps it’s time for us to go to bed,” she spoke softly. Ron nodded his agreement.
“You coming mate?” he asked Harry.
Harry shook his head and said, “In a minute. I’ll have to sort out this one first.” He nodded to the sleeping man curled up in his lap. Ron shrugged and stood with Hermione, the two walking over to the dormitory staircases. They shared a parting kiss before going their separate ways for the night.
Harry focused his attention back on Draco. He bent his head down so that his mouth was near Draco’s ear.
“Time to wake up,” he murmured. His lips brushed the shell of Draco’s ear with each word he spoke, rousing him from his sleep. Draco grunted and buried his face even deeper in Harry’s chest. Harry smiled softly. “No, no, hey. Don’t do that, come on,” he said. Draco grunted again and unwillingly turned his head to glare at Harry. Harry grinned at the sight of Draco’s attempted glare, his sleep-rumpled face and slowly blinking eyes hindering the effect.
“Don’t laugh at me,” Draco warned. His threat was undermined by his voice croaking from disuse.
“Of course not,” Harry smiled. “I would never.”
“Shut up, Potter,” Draco scowled.
“Oh yeah? Make me,” Harry chuckled, his grin widening. Before Harry knew what was happening, Draco’s lips were pressed firmly to his. Time stopped for a second, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. They disappeared as quickly as they came, and Harry was left blinking while Draco was once again pressed against his chest. He looked down to find Draco clutching at Harry’s hoodie as though afraid that he would be taken away.
“Draco,” Harry called softly. Draco shook his head, keeping his face firmly pressed to Harry’s front. Harry ran his hand down the side of Draco’s face and cupped his jaw, tilting his head up. Harry rubbed his thumb along Draco’s cheekbone, delighting in the pinkening skin. “Open your eyes, baby,” Harry murmured. He felt Draco shiver against him as he blinked his eyes open. Harry stared into the other man’s eyes; his silver irises were becoming smaller by the second as his pupils dilated.
Harry’s thumb came to rest on Draco’s bottom lip. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered. Draco’s breath hitched. He gave the smallest of nods but that was all Harry needed. He closed the gap between them, gently pressing his lips to Draco’s. Harry felt as if fireworks were going off throughout his whole body. He deepened their kiss, swiping his tongue over Draco’s bottom lip, seeking entrance. Draco gasped and Harry took the opportunity to slide his tongue into the other’s mouth. Harry kissed Draco until his lungs burned and he reluctantly had to pull away, but not before pressing a final soft kiss to Draco’s lips.
Draco breathed in deeply, fluttering his eyes open. Harry smiled down at him, his left hand squeezing Draco where it had landed at his waist.
“Thank you, Harry,” Draco uttered.
“For what?” Harry asked, his eyebrows drawn but smile never leaving his face.
“I was having a really bad day,” Draco pouted. Then his features lit up, “But you made me feel so much better!”
Harry frowned, “So this was just to make you feel better?”
Draco’s eyes widened almost comically; Harry would have laughed at his expression in a different circumstance. “No, no!” he nearly shouted, adamantly shaking his head. He lowered his voice when he said, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while, actually.” He shifted his eyes to look over Harry’s shoulder, but Harry couldn’t have that. He used the hand on Draco’s jaw to guide his eyes back to Harry’s.
“So have I,” he divulged.
“Yeah?” Draco breathed.
“Yeah.”
And if Harry became Draco Malfoy’s new favourite place to sit, well, that was no one’s business but his own.