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SIXTH YEAR
Draco is loosing his fucking mind.
That’s surely what has to be happening, because while The Savior Prat is crazy he certainly isn’t a stalker. No. That was too dark for someone so “pure”; even taking account of his need to break as many laws as physically possible.
With that knowledge at the forefront of his mind, Draco proceeded down the hallway, continuing this little charade he and this faceless figure had been living for weeks—maybe even months. Time got hard to keep track of when you had a Dark Lord breathing down your neck threatening you with the harsh death of your parents and yourself.
It’s then he sees it again. In the reflection caused by the tiny lumos he has off the suit of armor, the unmistakable gleam of moving nothing that oozes around the damn cloak Potter has. Draco knows that Potter has the damn thing, just as he knows that’s how he made it out to Hogsmeade when he shouldn’t have been there in third year. He also knows no one else in the castle has one. He just knows these things (probably Pansy’s innate nature of knowing everything about everyone rubbing off on him, but Draco will never admit that out loud).
Oh Potter and his tendency to put himself in life threatening situations just to be the center of attention. One day he is bound to get into trouble for it, and when he does I’ll be laughing at the sidelines. Not worried. Of course not. Draco notes silently to himself while pointedly ignoring what he doesn’t see in the reflection of the armor.
When he makes it to the exit he’d seen the red headed menaces use last year he goes through quickly, knowing he needs to work fast if he actually wants time. And besides, there was no one around to find him so it was laughably easy. And if he hears the exit open once more after he’s made a sizeable amount of progress through the tunnel no one can blame him for ignoring it, especially considering no one was following him before and he is not being stalked by Harry Potter.
He crawls along the winding tunnel until he finds the exit he could locate with his eyes closed and opens it. He takes extra care in ensuring it makes no noise, unsure if the poor owners of Honeydukes have wised up and got better security.
Lucky for him, they haven’t. With his continued secrecy ensured by the painfully unaware owners Draco carefully stalks through the shop and exits the front, remembering to leave the door cracked just so with an illusion placed on it so potential burglars didn’t get any ideas and break in while he’s out. He leaves the shop feeling lighter than he has all week, ready to go indulge in his sanity savior.
As Draco walks through the little town, sticking to the shadows for a higher chance of being ignored, he gets that feeling again. Like he’s being watched.
Hm. That’s odd. Usually Potter—not Potter, the imaginary stalker, never follows me out this far. Draco ponders on this silently, plenty aware of the fact that he is definitely loosing his mind and obviously not being followed.
He can’t be being followed, because the only person with the power to do so in such a way was Potter, and that prat would not stalk Draco Malfoy. He was too good. Not nice though. To be fair to the prat, it was Draco’s own fault. But still he was never nice to Draco, of course not. That would be hilarious, odd enough Draco would assume he’d taken off to whatever world Lovegood tended to talk about when she found him in that damned bathroom with Myrtle.
That’s another laughable fact he’d never admit outside his own mind, his new hesitant alliance (re friendship) with the ghost. The girl was surprisingly easy to talk to, and she was always easy to keep from crying if he brought his textbooks from second year potions to read to her. A bit odd, but an easy enough feat to accomplish as he tended to keep his past textbooks in his trunk in case he needed a reference for an essay or something else of that nature. It took time to get used to the similarly blond girl that occasionally joined and mostly just listened, but Draco learned to tolerate her presence.
This had worked to keep him sane in the beginning, having someone to vent to, but sooner than he liked it stopped working. Now he has new ways of dealing with his mental crises.
Speaking of, he finally makes it to the damned graveyard, albeit slower than he originally wanted because of the necessary caution to ensure he isn’t seen. This lonely, always empty, field of headstones near the shrieking shack had become his safe place nearly a month ago, and he still finds new things every time he returns. Like the fact there are odd little crosses littered between the large and small headstones. Draco will never understand what possesses some wixen to use a cross to memorialize themselves, but it isn’t something he thinks about too often.
Now that he is here he finds the next in his line and sits down beside it. This one is one of the little crosses, the words carved in are nearly undecipherable, but he manages to figure out the first name by the shape of the jagged lines. Kimberly.
Well Kimberly, Draco thinks barely restraining the cruel laugh that begs to escape, you’re about to learn a lot more about a traumatized teen than you likely wish to know.
After settling in and taking a deep breath he begins speaking aloud to the cross, unashamed and calm within this protective silence the graveyard brings him.
“This all started back when I was barely 11, ” Draco starts quietly, always unsure if he is being foolish when he begins. “I got my letter to Hogwarts and Father decided I was old enough to be taught “the way”. Draco nearly chuckles again as he mimed the quotes.
“I was young and to me the most powerful thing in the world was my father. He always acted as if he was too, the damned fool.” Draco indulges in his need to laugh, the sound coming out dark and a bit rough as he hasn’t used that particular function in weeks.
“Anyways,” Draco continues after calming down “he told me all about our place in the world, and how I was special because of my family and my blood, said our blood was “pure”. I had been a bit confused, everyone has blood after all, but my father insisted ours was special. Who was I to question the smartest man I knew?” Draco asks the little cross and even pauses to let the air answer with it’s usual silence.
“Well little did I know, I really should have. The man is a fucking lunatic if he thinks our blood is special enough to keep a madman from killing us, “useful” or not. The Dark Lord doesn’t care about any of his slaves, except maybe my mentally insane Aunt Bella, but truly that makes him even more of a psychopath.” Draco maneuvers onto the ground, fully committed to continuing his story (and ignoring the noise he did not just hear that is definitely not Potter).
“Oh the things I’d tell younger me if given the opportunity. “Don’t insult the ginger the kid with a lot of power and influence just befriended, even if you are jealous. Even if wanting to be his friend was never about things like power or gain… ” and “Hey maybe the only person who gets better grades than you could be a friend, not another child to bully just because of what Daddy Dearest thinks” Too late for that though, and now I just tell tombstones my life struggles! I’m fucking pathetic Kim—can I call you Kim? Probably not, you don’t know me. Well Kimberly, you will soon enough.” And with that Draco lays on his back next to the cross and spills his guts to it, to Kimberly actually if she were anywhere on this plane of existence still.
He lays there for hours and tells her about every Hogwarts year and Stupid Potter, about how every time he looks at the prat he wants to punch him or do something his parents and the savior himself would NEVER approve of, since around fourth year when that stupid boy flew next to the stands being chased by the dragon with his hair—and those beautiful eyes—Kimberly didn’t need to know any of this, but he tells her.
“Trust me Kimberly, if you saw him you’d understand, there’s just something about scrawny but powerful prats that gets me going.” Draco laughs as he finishes but he knows it’s true.
He tells her about his father inviting the madman into their home, how his own Father OFFERED HIM TO THE MADMAN.
He tells her about how he could never trust Father again after that.
“I mean, while I know nothing about your home life, how could you possibly trust a man who signed you up for a known murders army? Even if the man is your father it’s a hard thing to ask!” He says near hysterically.
Draco eventually gets to telling her how he secretly began to resent his mother, how ever since his taking of the mark she’s grown distant. He was scared, and he just wanted his mother to hug him. To tell him everything would be okay, and sing the French lullaby he still remembered from before… he tells Kimberly everything.
From his guilt over accidentally hurting the Gryffindor girl to how he couldn’t make himself try anything new to complete his mission after that, death terrifyingly suspended over his head be damned. He even manages to stumble through a shitty explanation on how he nearly took his own life after that, the guilt becoming too much for him to handle. He had planned to do it here, in this graveyard. That’s how this whole little experience began in the first place.
“I was going to end it here. I had managed to sneak out during a Hogsmede weekend after dodging another one of Snape’s attempts at helping me—don’t ask Kimberly, he’s my swot of a Godfather who has no place in my business—anyways I had managed to make it out here and I knew I needed to find a secluded place. Dying in a graveyard also felt incredibly poetic to me at the time, odd I know, but I needed to be free…” Draco goes quiet for a moment, suddenly drawn back to the head space he had that day.
“I just needed… something new. But then I saw the grave at the edge of this plot. His name is Demetri, and he was only 13 when he died. I talked to him like I’m talking to you now, and it felt like he told me to stop. To go back to Hogwarts. So I did and I appreciate him a lot even though my life is still mostly the same. Now though I have a new purpose, which is inflicting my living torture on as many of the dead in this graveyard before the bastard comes for my neck. “He ends with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood after the dark tangent.
Draco lays there and pours his heart out to the cross, to Kimberly really, until his throat is sore from speaking. To be fair that isn’t hard to achieve when you only speak once every few days to a little ghost girl or a random tombstone. He makes sure to tell her anything that comes to mind, even explaining that his favorite color is green not because of his Hogwarts house, but because I reminds him of Potter’s eyes and new beginnings, like spring. When he opens his eyes, long past the tears that won’t be shed, he sits up and turns to the cross.
“Well Kim, I’m going to call you Kim now because I’ve just told you my entire life story, I’m glad we talked. Sorry I did most of it, but you were quite quiet to be fair. Anyways, I need to go now, have to get back to my own personal hell and all that.” Draco stands, giving the tiny cross a final gentle pat as a goodbye before turning and carefully making his way to the exit.
As he does every time he ventures to the graveyard he stops and turns back once he makes it to the exit and pauses before speaking one final time.
“My name is Draco Malfoy and I hope you all will get to know me. Good bye for now, my new and future friends.” And with his final little ritual completed, he turns and leaves.
He still sticks to the shadows, but feeling as if a weight has been lifted off his back he moves quicker through the streets than earlier, easily making it to Honeydukes and entering the door after unlocking it once more.
Wait. Why was it locked? He never locked this door…
But no, surely he had just made a mistake this time, because clearly there wasn’t an angry owner inside and the place doesn’t look ransacked when he gathers enough courage to keep moving into the shop. Draco assumes he’s just been more stressed than usual, even considering what his life is now, and messed up. It’s fine, he’ll just make sure to do better next time.
With that easy excuse he makes his way to the back after locking the front once more and hesitantly gets into the entrance that will lead him back to Hogwarts.
As the trip back to Honeydukes went, this trip back to Hogwarts also goes quickly, and Draco finds himself sneaking back inside sooner than anticipated. He looks around to be sure the coast was clear and then heads towards the dungeons, making the decision then to take his new peace down to his dorm to actually try sleeping, knowing reality will kick in and make that impossible in a matter of days, if not hours.
That is until he makes it barely two feet down the hall and freezes, hearing a noise he knows can’t be real.
He slowly turns and nearly sobs as he sees the oozing nothingness right next to the exit. The exit he just heard fall closed.
Oh Merlin. It can’t be.
Just like that the space where he’s looking ripples and out pops Potter’s stupid face, smiling even as the shimmery fabric reveals itself falling to the floor.
Why is the prat smiling? Why does it look so…well sincere is the only word Draco can think of to describe it, but no. That can’t be right. Potter would never smile at Draco of all people like that. He’s only ever seen the prat smile at his Weasley and Granger like that, and Draco is definitely neither of them.
And then the stupid savior goes and opens his stupid mouth.
“I didn’t know you still wanted to be friends, Draco. Well… a bit more than that if what you told Kim is true. ” Harry says with a lopsided cheeky grin that’s definitely pointed at Draco, paired perfectly with a blush that covers his face and easily goes past his neck into his shirt.
And Draco runs. Well, Draco tries to run, making it three feet or so before being tackled by the prat and then pulled into a dodgy broom closet a few feet away.
After a fumbling apology for jumping him and dragging him off to another location, Potter manages to explain that he’d been stalking Draco for a few months now because he thought Draco was a death eater.
Well you weren’t wrong, but I’m seriously concerned and confused as to how you came to that conclusion Draco idly thinks to himself as Harry—no it’s potter the prat literally just jumped you Draco—goes on.
“I knew you were leaving Hogwarts but every time something had to go and sidetrack me. This was the first time I got to follow you out. You go there every time, don’t you?” Harry asks like he didn’t just admit to several crimes.
Stalking and leaving school grounds without a guardian or school approval to name the first few that come to mind. Well Draco figures this can’t get any worse and seen as Potter already knows everything because he listened to his conversation with Kim, he decides to tell the truth.
Well a nod and a mumbled “yeah, what’s it to you Potter?” is all Draco offers. To be fair to Draco though Potter didn’t ask for more.
Draco curses his mother’s genes as he feels his face heating with a blush of his own as a result of the smirk Potter gives that. Cocky prat.
“Then I suppose you’ll be taking my offer for sanctuary, because after what I’ve just heard I can’t let you go back to that house of horrors. Besides, if you don’t take the offer I’ll tell Hermione you really do want to be her friend and show her the memory of the graveyard as evidence of just why she should believe me.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows as if that’s reason enough to make Draco give in. Draco responds with a reasonably unimpressed look.
“Then you’ll have her to convince that breaking the law and kidnapping you is “inherently bad”, which newsflash—won’t work because she’s Hermione, and then we’ll just end up kidnapping you. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just agreed and made this easier for all of us?” Harry asks with the sloppiest crup eyes Draco has ever seen before. Which is astonishing because he rooms with Blaise.
“Just why should I believe this isn’t a trap, Potter?” Draco responds, slightly hesitant to even humor this situation. “You don’t exactly have a history of helping me or any Slytherin, and I don’t particularly trust your abilities to keep me safe even with your Granger being in charge.” Draco finishes with most of his usual confidence, somehow feeling more normal than he has all year.
The prat fucking laughs.
Maybe Draco is still going insane and his brain has summoned some hallucination to accompany him to insanity. That would track considering his family. Namely Aunt Bella. At that thought Draco starts hoping that he doesn’t have the odd obsession with the noseless snake man she got and he turns from Hallucination Harry and opens the door, tired of letting it laugh at him.
Draco even manages to get out and begin his trip back to his dorm before Hallucination Harry realizes he’s being left behind and follows, picking up the cloak and throwing it over the both of them. Which is odd considering hallucinations are just in your mind and not real.
But, eager to sleep for more than the odd half hour, Draco adds that to the long list of things he’s going to be ignoring and continues on his way.
“Where are we going?” Hallucination Harry asks once Draco has made considerable progress towards the dungeons.
Draco considers ignoring it but figures no harm will come in answering his own minds creation.
“I’m going to sleep. I finally feel calm enough to actually get some rest and I might even make it to class tomorrow if I go to bed now.” At that Draco does give a tiny rough laugh. “Not that it’d do much good considering I’ve missed most of them this year, but you already know that Harry.” Draco fully commits to being as relaxed as possible with the hallucination, knowing his mind is using it as a coping mechanism and that’s the best form of therapy he’d ever get before the madman kills him.
He doesn’t expect the odd little gasp it gives, but he’s tired and figures his mind is slacking in keeping the hallucination up to date.
“Are you sure about that? You still haven’t answered if you’re going to take my offer yet Draco.” Hallucination Harry says with an odd look on his face.
Draco didn’t understand what it was and was actually tired enough to not care, very surprising when it comes to Harry. It’s probably because this is his Harry, his hallucination anyways, and not the real thing. Draco could never be too tired to ignore the real Harry, that much he knows is still true.
Then Hallucination Harry does something odd. He grabs Draco by the shoulders and spins him to face him, leaving Draco off balance and slightly dizzy.
Damn I really should eat more if I’m sickly enough a spin makes me feel nauseous. Draco thinks to himself before realizing he really did just get turned by this Hallucination.
Hallucinations can’t move people. Fucking Merlin. That means this Harry really did hear him in the graveyard, really did hear his whole pathetic vent to Kimberly, and is currently hiding under a cloak with him. Draco winces at this realization just as Potter begins speaking—yes it’s Potter again because the prat isn’t his hallucination.
“Draco. You need to make a choice. Either way you’re not returning, I won’t allow it, so please—for me Draco, please don’t try going back.” Potter says with a worried look on his face.
Draco nearly laughs and meets Potter’s eyes.
“Why would I do something like that for you? We’re not friends, we don’t even like each other!” Draco continues on, ignoring the smirk Potter adopts. “And besides, I am perfectly fine. I don’t need the Savior to come marching into my life just to fuck it up even more than it already is.” Throughout Draco’s entire spiel Potter just sits there smirking. It’s infuriating and Draco has had enough.
“You’re being weird Potter, just fuck back off to wherever your guard dogs are and leave me alone!”
Potter then steps forward and takes Draco’s hand, keeping him from leaving, and meets his eyes.
“No. Draco everything I heard in the graveyard was horrible and sad and even if I can’t convince you we could be friends someday, I still can’t let you go back. You obviously don’t even agree with the nonsense you’ve been spouting for years no matter what you like to think, and sending you back to that would make me worse than Voldemort.” Harry finishes and levels Draco with a stare that allows no arguments, sincere and determined.
And Draco just nods silently and meets those bright green eyes. He doesn’t even flinch as he usually would at the name, too far entranced by the idea of freedom, of being friends with Harry to even register it. Because really, what else is there for him to do? Draco knows he can’t ki—do his task, he knows he can’t go back without results, and he definitely can’t keep lying to himself about Potter.
Well Draco thinks to himself I guess he’s Harry now, considering he’s saving me from that demon. Well, coercing me into not being kidnapped, but same difference really.
And then Harry takes Draco’s hand once more and leads him to the headmasters office. Even while secretly being overjoyed, his exhausted mind is too tired to fully grasp the reality of his situation, so instead he blames Harry.
Stupid Potter and his Stupid Cloak and Stupid Stalking Tendencies.
<<<<<<<<<<<<§>>>>>>>>>>>>
THREE YEARS LATER [Present Day]
Draco is laughing at Hermione’s attempt of copying Ron’s older brother Percy’s walk. On any other day she could probably have it, but after three “celebratory” Firewhiskys she’s barely walking around the pub at all.. Well, if you can call her fumbling movements walking, more like jerky moves from some old dance. While she wouldn’t elaborate on what exactly she was celebrating she sure did do it enthusiastically.
Draco smiles brightly as Ron carefully pulls his girlfriend off of the floor after she fails to remain standing, quietly whispering some nonsense to her as he leads her to the booth to sit. He’s still watching the two move towards the booth when someone snakes their arms around his waist and he smirks.
“Seamus, if that’s you again you better hope I don’t hex your bits off.” Draco miffed with little humor in his voice, after all the man kept trying to convince Draco to come dance all evening.
“Then I guess you’ll be glad it’s not Seamus behind you.” Said a voice that nearly sent Draco falling off his bar stool.
“Harry? I thought you had Auror training tonight!?” Draco turns around and meets Harry’s eyes, a little concerned and confused.
“I quit.” Is all Harry says.
“What? Why? You love nearly killing yourself every chance you get.” Draco quips with a surprising bit of humor, knowing Harry never actually meant to have any of that happen.
“A prattish wise person once told me that I was much better at teaching than I was at keeping my head attached to my neck, and I decided to listen to them for once.” Harry said with a chuckle and met his eyes fondly.
He’s learned more about Harry in the past three years than he ever believed possible, and he loves it. Not always the nice happy go lucky time he thought Harry had—no a lot of it was darker than he ever could have imagined. Harry told him bits and pieces as time went on, but he will never forget the first time he opened up to Draco.
<<<<<<<<<<<<§>>>>>>>>>>>>
SUMMER BEFORE SEVENTH YEAR
Not long after that school year from hell Draco had been sitting in the room the haughty Weasley had abandoned, dubbed his room since Ron had Harry sleep with him when he eventually made it to the Burrow that summer.
Draco had been hesitant to be there at first, but he quickly got used to the structure the elder Weasley’s provided and grew to enjoy it. They were all so free and Draco even began to form a tentative friendship with the four Weasley children who still lived at home.
But something about that night had been different, and while Draco wanted to chalk it up to Harry’s spontaneous arrival he knew it wasn’t that. Maybe it was the fact that his parents had claimed he had been kidnapped and wrote petty articles pleading with him to come home, for his captors to release him. It was.. Well it wasn’t fun to say the least.
It’s almost like Harry knew this, because that night after Ron had gone to bed he wandered up the rickety stairs to Draco’s room. It had been a shock at first but Draco let him in and quickly pushed aside the papers from the bed, giving him a place to sit.
Harry had been quite good at ignoring the feelings they both knew Draco had for him, treating him as he would any of his other friends, so he was pretty used to letting the prat into his personal space after the odd stalking thing became much less of a secret the rest of that year than it should have been. At least between the two of them and Harry’s two best friends, but apparently they already knew. Oh how Ron absolutely delighted in telling Draco stories of Harry’s monologues once they officially became friends themselves. Ron had nearly laughed himself silly when Draco became bright red after hearing that for the first time.
When Harry had asked to read the paper, claiming the muggles he lived with didn’t let him get the post, Draco hesitated before handing them over.
“Look I know my parents are bad, but this is still complicated because I do care for them. While I know you don’t I would greatly appreciate you holding back your surely charming opinions on their pleas.” Draco had asked rather awkwardly, but Harry just silently read over the articles and told him about his Godfather, Sirius Black. Technically one of Draco’s cousins.
Draco just nodded and let Harry go on about how he wanted to kill the man when he first learned about him, but that once he met him and realized what truly happened he had hoped for a chance at family. He even thanked Draco for his embarrassing outburst that year, even if he initially disapproved of it because of the role Buckbeak played in saving the man. It was the first night of many that the two laid together on Draco’s new lumpy bed and just talked about their pasts… it was nice. Harry even took the time some nights to help Draco practice his patronus after learning it was something he was infinitely jealous of Harry being able to do.
It also allowed them to become quite close friends, forming a bond different than any Draco had ever seen or experienced before. While he was never as close to the Golden Trio as they were to each other, he bonded with each of them as time went on, and cried and worried with the rest of The Order when the three ran away together after the hectic wedding that summer. Not even Dumbledore knew where they had gone, but Draco believed that was a nicely said lie. The man kept it up until he died soon after though.
The first time Draco managed to truly summon a full patronus was the night the trio made it into the new cursed Hogwarts, and he immediately sent the tiny blindingly bright snake to yell at the boy for leaving like that.
<<<<<<<<<<<<§>>>>>>>>>>>>
PRESENT DAY
Draco stands quickly and pulls the prat into a hug.
“Oh, it seems you’ve finally grown a sense of self preservation.” He pulls away quickly after, not wanting to overstep the blurry line of friendship they’ve kept to for years now.
Harry looks as if he’s going to say something important but Hermione comes stumbling over to hug him, Ron nervously chasing after her. Draco sends Ron a playful smile over the two hugging fools between them and they both laugh when Luna makes her way over with more drinks and asks why Hermione and Harry are nearly on the floor. Draco smiles and takes a drink from her, placing it on the bar top before looking down and letting out a small laugh.
“Hermione got a bit excited to see him.”
Draco helps pull Harry up while Ron gets Hermione onto Draco’s abandoned barstool, effectively keeping her upright.
“Hassuh Harry told you lot yet?” Hermione slurs out at she looks at Ron with her happy drunk smile.
Ron chuckles and looks over to his best friend after placing his arm around Hermione.
“What’s she talking about, mate?”
Harry smiles brightly and leans up on the bar, closer to Draco than he was before.
“I quit the Aurors. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life risking it, not after the war. I’m going to talk to McGonagall about a teaching position whenever things wind down, but for now I just plan on bothering you lot.” He let’s out a laugh that sends Draco’s insides a flutter, and Ron just smiles at him and clasps his shoulder, having a surprisingly striking resemblance to his father as he does.
“Good on you Harry! I’m sure it had nothing to do with all the pouting that Ferret behind you does anytime you have to miss a pub night because of that bloody training schedule.” Ron smirks at Harry, but Draco swears he’s looking through Harry and directly into Draco’s mind.
He ignores the odd shiver that goes up his spine when Harry laughs and turns to him.
“You get pouty when I’m not able to make it to these?” He asks with a cheeky smile.
“Of course not.” Draco says while glaring at Ron.
Ron just laughs and turns back to his girlfriend who is talking to Luna about… well Draco thinks it’s a newspaper but last he checked newspapers didn’t bite people.
He’s wondering if Hagrid somehow got access to a printing press when Harry grabs his wrist and leads him to a dark corner of the bar. Draco nearly falls when they have to quickly maneuver around a barmaid carrying a platter but Harry catches him easily, causing Draco to awkwardly laugh and pull himself off Harry quickly. Harry shakes his head and reclaims his arm, this time taking his hand instead of his wrist which does not make Draco feel butterflies in his stomach, obviously not because this is one of his best friends.
When they finally make it to an empty corner of the pub Harry pulls Draco into a booth and settles against the wall before leaning forward on the table and meeting Draco’s eyes.
“Can I tell you a story?” Harry asks in a tone that Draco recognizes as Harry needing to say something serious, which is odd paired with the question. He of course nods and tries to make himself relax in the booth, playfully glaring when Harry chuckles at his awkward movements.
“Just get on with the story before I decide to go take Seamus up on his offer to dance.” Draco smirks at Harry when he says the threat, both of them knowing Draco would never do that. He likes listening to Harry talk to much for something as stupid as petty dancing.
“Okay, okay, Draco,” But Draco could see in the way his smile made his eyes crinkle that he wasn’t truly frustrated. “I made a trip to Hogsmede before I turned up here. I had to go have a chat with… well I’d consider her a friend but I’m not sure if she even knows I exist.” He chuckles and let’s his hand relax on the booths linoleum table, a silent offering for Draco to take. Neither of them acknowledge it with anything more than a gentle squeeze when Draco silently does as he nods along with Harry’s words. Harry smiles softly and takes a breath before going on.
“I sat by her and gave a whole speech, asked her if I should have quit my job and if I should continue with my next crazy plan. She didn’t answer me, but I got the feeling she agreed with my plan. Women, the most confusing mystery I’ve ever encountered. Although to be fair, she probably didn’t answer because she’s dead, but I prefer to believe Kim is just choosing to be stubborn.” Harry smirks and Draco raises an eyebrow, clearly confused.
“Why did you go see Kim? I didn’t know you had any significant attachment to the graveyard or it’s inhabitants.” He gives Harry an odd look, a mix of confusion and playful mockery.
“I will always appreciate her role in altering your fate you prat,” Harry squeezes Draco’s hand tighter and acts as if he’s going to raise it before pausing, their joined hands hovering between them in the crowded booth.
After another moment of hesitation Harry pulls their joined hands to his lips and kisses Draco’s knuckles, looking up towards his eyes nervously as he does.
“I—uhm.” Draco struggles to find words and Harry does it again, gently nibbling on a knuckle when Draco remains silent and flushed.
This is definitely not friend behavior. I don’t care what crazy things he does with Weasel because of their trauma bond, if he keeps doing this with that look on his face I’m going to say fuck friendship and just snog him now. Draco anxiously thinks to himself, unsure of what to make of this interaction. Harry’s always been a touchy friend, what with the complete lack of affection before the age of 11, but this is just…. Instigating.
Before Draco can make any moves to pull away or push himself forward Harry smiles and returns their hands to the table, leaving Draco with even more questions than before.
This man is going to be the death of me, which is ironic because he saved me from dying before. Maybe it’s death keeping his scores even. Draco grumbles internally, unsure of what he should be doing with his complete lack of space in the booth with the rising temperature. He flushes even brighter, if that’s possible, when Harry laughs and moves closer to whisper in his ear.
“I think I’m ready to move forward, what with the part of our lives we spent risking them daily being over now, if you’ll still have me after 3 years of waiting.” He presses his lips against the side of Draco’s head above his ear, sending a shiver up his spine.
“What do you mean by that Harry?” Draco asks quietly, unsure if he’s really living through this or if all of the stress in the past years has him really seeing hallucinations. Harry chuckles and pulls back slightly, allowing Draco to take a gulp of air after forgetting how to breath.
“I mean we both knew how this was going to end, and I’m tired of fighting it. I want you Draco, always have in some way,” he laughs and Draco nearly does the same out of sheer joy and confusion, “unless I’ve misread this situation to hell and high water then I think you should kiss me now.”
And Draco does. He leans forward and embraces the feelings he’s pushed down for so long, feels like his skin is on fire and covered in ice simultaneously when their lips finally touch. He ignores the hiccups and cheering from their friends behind them, and focuses completely on the man, no longer a boy, that he’s fallen for more times than he can count.
For once he’s not scared of mad men, his family, or the expectations set in place for his life from the very beginning. Right now he’s living his life, and it’s just beginning.
Thanks for listening and sending me down the right path Kim. Draco thinks as he pulls away from Harry’s lips for a moment to smile brightly at the prat, the man who he’s so gone for. He leans in to kiss him once more, smiling against his lips from the pure happiness he feels in this moment, and he knows instinctually that this will be the new memory he uses to summon a patronus for the rest of his life, the joy he feels right now making him feel like he could cast a million patronuses in a flick of his wand.
Draco Malfoy isn’t loosing his mind after all.