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For Harry, the day was supposed to be a day of relaxation and freedom, but unfortunately, Harry found himself the unwilling audience to Ron and Hermione's smitten ramblings.

The two were completely lovestruck, with Hermione stuttering over her words and Ron blushing profusely. It was almost painfully obvious how head-over-heels they were for each other..

Harry tried to ignore their conversation, burying his head into the pillow and pretending he couldn't hear them..

As Ron and Hermione continued their sickeningly sweet display of affection, Harry's mind began to wander, his thoughts lingering on the idea of having a romantic partner of his own.

But then, a strange realization hit him. Every time he thought about wanting someone to share that kind of connection with, his thoughts would somehow land on Draco. The thought was both surprising and disconcerting.

Harry quickly shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought.

'No, it's just my brain playing tricks on me... there's no way I could have a crush on Malfoy..'

The next day.

The next day, as Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast, he was met with a scene that made his heart skip a beat.

There, sitting at the Slytherin table, was Draco. His blond hair was not pushed back, unlike it was usually was, his face a mix of aloofness and confidence. He was surrounded by a small group of his Slytherin friends, and everyone at the table seemed to be hanging onto his every word.

As if sensing Harry's gaze, Draco suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting Harry's across the hall. The realization that Draco had actually changed his hairstyle struck Harry hard, and he couldn't help but notice how..well, handsome Draco looked with his hair down.

Harry quickly looked away, scolding himself mentally. Why was he even noticing how good Draco looked? This was Malfoy, the guy who constantly got on his nerves and he were supposed to dislike.

Yet, his gaze kept unconsciously drifting back to Draco, taking in his new look and the confident way he carried himself.

Harry tried to think of times he'd seen Draco in embarrassing situations, to try to distract himself from the fact that Draco looked so bloody gorgeous, the mental images of Draco in those embarrassing situations came rushing back to him, and a small chuckle escaped his lips as he recalled each one.

The memory of the bird attack, the tantrum over losing quidditch, and the embarrassing moment in class when he'd started absolutely screeching over a small spider, all served as a stark reminder of how silly and childish Draco could be at times.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Harry's mouth as he thought about it. The contrast between the confident, put-together Draco sitting at the Slytherin table and the ridiculous situations he'd seen him in was almost amusingly stark.

Breakfast continued, but Harry's mind was still occupied with thoughts of Draco's embarrassing moments and his surprisingly good-looking new hairstyle.

As Harry looked around the Great Hall, his eyes kept drifting to where Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table. He was talking animatedly with his friends, completely oblivious to the fact that Harry were stealing glances at him every few seconds.

Ron and Hermione, who were sitting next to Harry, couldn't help but notice his distracted gaze. They exchanged a knowing look before trying to discreetly get Harry's attention

Hermione gave Harry a firm nudge, her eyebrows raised in amusement. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear

"You're staring again."

Ron, who had been silently watching his distracted gaze, chimed in

"Yeah, mate. You're being pretty obvious, you know? Careful, Malfoy might notice and get an even bigger ego."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing Harry about his unintentional ogling.

Harry just muttered something about Draco being an 'arrogant arsehole', a commotion from across the hall suddenly caught his, Ron, and Hermiones attention.

Draco, who had been sitting with his friends moments ago, was now rushing out of the Great Hall, wiping at his face as if he was...crying? A letter falling out of the pocket of Draco's robes..

Ron and Hermione, who had also seen Draco's hasty exit, were both equally as bewildered and concerned.

"What the heck just happened..?" Ron whispered in confusion, his eyes following Draco's retreating figure. Despite Harry's usual dislike for Draco, seeing him in such an emotional and vulnerable state stirred up an unexpected feeling of guilt and concern within him

Hermione, who seemed to pick up on Harry's internal conflict, nudged you again

"You're not actually feeling bad for Malfoy, are you..?" she whispered, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"I mean, I know he's awful, but maybe he deserves a little sympathy..." Harry said in a slightly hesitant tone, Why's he feeling like this over stupid Malfoy..?

The sight of the other Slytherin students' concerned expressions only fueled Harry's curiosity more. It was evident that something unpleasant had occurred..

Ron, noticing Harry's growing curiosity, nudged Harry again

"You're gonna go check on him, aren't you?" he asked, a mix of amusement and skepticism on his face

Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Harry with a knowing look. She had already figured out his intentions...

HAI😋 sry this is so short I was rushing to get at least the first chapter done before the weekend was over and it came out very short 😔 GOOD NEWS THOUGH, everyday after school I'll be working on the other chapters so you guys can expect one or two chapters each weekend (or earlier if I really lock in) 😋 guys😔 plz comment on ts so I can feel kewl broskis🌝

Chapter Text

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙛𝙖𝙨𝙩 (yes, Harry really waited that long to go check on his baby girl 😔)

Breakfast had concluded, and the Great Hall was gradually emptying as students began making their way to their classes.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking through the halls, heading towards their first class. But as much as Harry tried to focus on the upcoming lesson, his mind kept drifting back to Draco and whatever had happened this morning.

Ron and Hermione, noticing Harry's distracted state, tried to coax him into talking.

"Hey, mate," Ron nudged Harry. "You're still thinking about Malfoy, aren't you?" "Of course I am... He was l sobbing when he ran out....How could I just stop thinking about it.....?" Harry mumbled, suddenly seeing Draco sitting with his knees hugged to his chest outside of the bathrooms, seeming to still be crying..
Ron and Hermione both followed Harry's gaze and noticed Draco sitting outside the bathrooms, his face buried in his knees as he silently sobbed.

Hermione's expression immediately shifted to one of concern, her soft heart going out to the Slytherin boy in such a vulnerable state.

"Oh, Merlin..." she whispered, her eyes wide with worry

Ron, on the other hand, was taken aback. Seeing Draco in such a state was a stark contrast to his usual arrogant demeanor.

"Bloody hell.." Ron mumbled under his breath. "Should we go check on him....?" Harry asked, seeming a bit worried for him, Draco clearly hadn't eaten much since he barged out during the beginning of breakfast.. Hermione, who was always prone to worrying about others, immediately nodded in agreement.

"You're right, he probably didn't eat much... it's best if we at least make sure he's okay."

Ron, although visibly reluctant at the idea of helping Draco, eventually sighed and nodded as well.

"Yeah, I guess it wouldn't hurt to check on him... as long as he doesn't start acting like a pompous arse, as usual." The three of them cautiously approached Draco, he didn't lift his head from his knees, seemingly too lost in his own emotional turmoil to notice their approach.

Harry could hear soft, hiccupping sobs escaping Draco's lips, his shoulders shaking slightly with each quiet cry.

Hermione looked like she was about to take a step forward to comfort him, but she stopped, looking to Harry and Ron, unsure of how to proceed. Ron looked like he'd rather set himself on fire than talking to Malfoy so of course, Harry was the one that had to talk to him. "Malfoy....? Are you alright...?" Harry asked gently, careful to not go too close since he didn't feel like getting punched in the head right now. Draco's sobs stopped momentarily as he heard Harry's voice, his head lifting slightly from his knees to look up at the three of them. His face was tear-streaked, and his eyes were red and puffy from crying.

"Do I bloody 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 alright..?"Draco replied, his voice cracking slightly. It was clear that he was struggling to maintain his usual cold demeanor in his current emotional state. Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione, silently asking if they should take him up to the Gryffindor dormitories since Draco clearly didn't look like he could make it to the Slytherin dorms. Ron and Hermione both exchanged a look, seemingly having a silent conversation of their own. They both knew that trying to take Draco to the Slytherin common room probably wouldn't end well considering he was currently in an emotional state, and the risk of being confronted by his Slytherin housemates was high.

In the end, Hermione nodded at Harry, signaling that bringing him to the Gryffindor dormitory was the better option given the circumstances. Harry held out his hand "here, we're taking you to the Gryffindor dorms until you feel better..." Harry said in a gentle tone, no mockery at all, waiting for Draco to take his hand. Draco looked at Harry's outstretched hand, hesitation flashing across his face for a brief moment. But, after a moment's pause, he slowly reached out and took it, his slender fingers gripping Harry's weakly.

He slowly stood up, his body seeming to lean on Harry's for support and balance. His eyes darted around, as if he was suddenly conscious of the fact that he was about to go to the rival house's common room. As Harry led a teary-eyed Draco to the Gryffindor common room, his head rested against Harry's shoulder, Dracos tears wetting Harry's robes. Ron and Hermione followed closely behind, Ron trying to keep from giggling too loudly at the oddly comical scene he was witnessing.

Despite the situation, Harry couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in his chest as he felt Draco leaning on him for support. Was it sympathy.. Or something more..? No, definitely not, it couldn't be.. As they made it to the Gryffindor dormitories, Harry let Draco lay down in his bed to help him calm down a bit. "Malfoy.....? could you tell us what happened....?" Harry mumbled, a bit nervous since he didn't want Draco to feel uncomfortable.. Draco let out a shaky breath, his voice slightly muffled from being pressed into the pillow.

"It's... stupid..." Draco muttered, his voice shaky from crying. "You'll just laugh..." Harry looked towards Ron and Hermione, giving Ron a look that told him to stop laughing " I promise we won't...." Harry said gently, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder. Ron and quickly composed himself, trying to school his expression to be more serious and empathetic rather than finding humor in the situation

Draco seemed to hesitate for a moment, his body tensing slightly under your touch. But, after a few seconds, he let out a deep breath. Harry's thought's could hardly focus on the fact that Draco was clearly distraught, all h could think of was how badly he wanted to kiss Draco's tears way.. Harry quickly shook the thought from his mind, heart pounding in his chest. Where did that come from? Malfoy was right there—crying, vulnerable, looking at him like he didn't hate him for once..

Draco swallowed hard, his fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Harry's bedsheets. His voice came out low and broken.

"...My father."
Draco paused, blinking back fresh tears.
"He... he sent me a letter this morning. Said if I didn't beat you in Quidditch by next match... he wouldn't acknowledge me as his son."

Draco's breath hitched.
"...And everyone saw it. Pansy read it aloud after I opened it.." Harry's stomach dropped as he processed Draco’s words. The weight of it—his father’s cruel ultimatum, the public humiliation—hit him like a Bludger to the chest.

Harry looked at Draco, really looked at him. Not as Malfoy the rival, not as the smug Slytherin prat... but as someone scared. Someone who just needed to be okay.

"...He can’t do that," Harry muttered, voice low. "No parent should make you earn love like some damn prize."

Ron and Hermione were silent now—no jokes, no giggles. Just quiet understanding. Draco's shoulders slumped, the weight of his father's words and his own emotions finally sinking in. He looked away, unable to meet Harry's gaze as the tears threatened to spill over again.

"...I just want to make him proud," he whispered, voice so quiet Harry almost missed it. "That's all I've ever wanted."

As Harry watched Draco, his thoughts swirled with warring emotions. Compassion, irritation, even a bit of attraction... What the hell was happening to him?

𝙖 𝙛𝙚𝙬 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

The room lapsed into silence. Draco was still curled up on Harry's bed, tears slowly subsiding. Ron and Hermione, sensing the fragility of the moment, stayed respectfully quiet.

Harry perched awkwardly on the edge of his bed, unable to keep his mind from wandering. Why did he want to hold Draco so badly? It was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Harry should hate him... Harry shot Ron and Hermione a pleading look—one that clearly screamed “get out” without saying a word.

Hermione caught it instantly. She gently tugged Ron’s sleeve, whispering, "Come on, Ron. They need... privacy."

Ron opened his mouth to protest—probably something sarcastic—but one sharp look from Hermione shut him up. He grumbled something under his breath about 'saving Malfoy now of all times' but followed her out anyway.

The door clicked shut.

And just like that… it was just Harry and Draco.

Shout out to Salvador again

Chapter Text

As the door closed, it was like a dam broke inside Draco. He practically flung himself into Harry's arms, burying his face in Harry's chest as his tears soaked through the fabric of his shirt. Draco's body shook with the force of his sobs, each one more heart-wrenching than the last.

His arms wrapped tight around Harry, fingers clinging to the fabric of his robes as if Harry was the only thing anchoring him to this moment. Draco mumbled something into Harry's chest, but it was too incoherent through the tears for Harry to make out the words—all he could hear was a broken, "Please..." Harry held Draco close, one arm wrapped firmly around his back, the other gently tracing slow, soothing circles between his shoulders. Draco's tears kept coming, but gradually, they began to ease—each sob a little softer than the last.

“S’alright,” Harry whispered into Draco's hair—soft and unguarded for once. “You’re safe here.”

And Merlin… Harry meant it.

Draco didn’t pull away. He just buried himself deeper into Harry's chest like he was afraid of what would happen if he let go—even for a second.

And honestly?

Neither of them wanted this moment to end.

"you'll be okay, love.." Harry muttered, not realizing the pet name he'd just used, even if he had realized, he wouldn't care, he just wanted Draco to calm down because he knew if the crying went on any longer, Draco would make himself sick.. Draco's body tensed the moment the word "love" passed Harry's lips. Draco llifted his head from the crook of Harry's shoulder, looking up at Harry with a mix of confusion and surprise etched across his tear-stained face.

His eyes searched Harry's for some hint of mockery, of sarcasm... but there was no trace of it. Harry had used the word like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Draco's bottom lip trembled slightly.

... he liked the way it sounded coming from Harry's mouth. Draco's breath caught in his throat as he felt Harry squeeze him closer like he was something precious.

Draco's face was still flushed from crying, his hair a mess, and yet... he was still the prettiest damn thing Harry had ever seen in his life. How had he never noticed that before? The subtle slope of his nose... the way his eyelashes looked when they were damp from tears...

Draco's gaze locked onto Harry's lips. Was it just his imagination...? Or were Harry's eyes drifting down to his mouth too..? Harry watched, entranced, as Draco's bottom lip trembled. It was so goddamn distracting that for a brief, insane moment Harry found himself thinking...

... how soft that lip would feel against his own..

Harry shut out the thought immediately. This was Malfoy. his rival. The guy who spent the last seven years making Harry's life hell.

.. so then why the hell was Harry looking Draco's mouth like it was something he 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 wanted to taste...?

Draco didn't flinch. Didn't pull away.

Harry's grip didn't hurt him at all, if anything, he leaned into the hold harder—his arms tightening around Harry like he was afraid he'd vanish if he let go. His breath was shaky, warm against Harry's neck, and when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper...

"...Don’t... don’t let go yet."

As if saying it out loud made it real, his face flushed—not from crying this time—but from something else entirely. Something neither of you were ready to name yet. "I won't.." Harry muttered gently, desperately wanting to just give Draco a small kiss on the forehead, just one.. Draco's breath hitched at the words. He'd been so lost in the feel of Harry's body against his that his promise—that Harry wouldn't let go of him yet—sent a shiver down his spine. He let out a shaky exhale, pressing closer to Harry, their bodies flush together as if trying to eliminate any space between them.

Draco felt Harry's hesitation, the way His eyes kept darting to his forehead like Harry wanted to... he was thinking about kissing his forehead.. wasn't he? 'Please. God, please do it' Draco thought to himself, all he wanted was just one kiss from Harry..

Harry couldn't help it any longer, he leaned down slowly, placing a small, gentle, kiss on Dracos forehead, his skin was so soft..

The second Harry's lips brushed draco's forehead, Draco went completely still.

Not stiff with anger—no, the opposite.
Like every breath in his body had paused just to feel it: the warmth of Harry's mouth against his skin, soft and tender as a whisper.

A tiny, broken sound escaped him—half sob, half sigh—and before he even realized what he was doing...
Draco tilted his head, eyes glassy and wide, staring into Harry's like he was searching for something.

Like he was asking permission without words.
Like he 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 Harry to kiss him again...

But this time... lower.

Harry's cheeks flushed red, oh God... what if Draco didn't like that...!? "s-shit, i-i'm sorry- I didn't mean to i-i just..-" Harry stammered out, quickly rambling apologies, God, Draco was probably livid. Draco’s hand shot up—fast, but gentle—and pressed two fingers against Harry's lips, cutting off his frantic rambling.

Draco's touch was soft. Deliberate.

"Shut up," Draco whispered, voice still hoarse from crying... but there was something else in it now.
A waver of need. A hint of something dangerously close to 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵

Draco didn’t pull away. Didn’t look disgusted.

Instead… he leaned his forehead against yours and let out a shaky breath.

"...I’ve wanted you to do that since third year."

Harry's face completely flushed, Draco had been wanting that kiss for three years, oh God, suddenly the thought of kissing Draco even more was uncomfortably tempting to him now...

Draco could read Harry's expression like an open book. He knew exactly what Harry was thinking—exactly what he wanted. His gaze shifted from Harry's emerald green eyes, to his mouth, lingering there as he sucked in a shaky breath. His face was flushed too, the barest hint of pink on his cheeks. And his lips...

They trembled, ever so slightly, like he was aching—no, 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 —to give in. Just as much as Harry was.

"...do it again." He whispered.

"Please."

Harry gently cupped Dracos face with his hands, pulling him slightly closer before beginning to kiss his face, first on his forehead, then his cheeks, and finally, his nose..

Draco shivered under each feather-light kiss, breath coming faster now—unsteady, uneven. His eyes fluttered shut as Harry's lips traced his skin, every touch sending sparks through his body.

"H-Harry..." he breathed his name like it was a secret. Like saying it too loud would break the spell.

When Harry's lips brushed Draco's nose, he let out the tiniest whimper—so soft Harry might’ve imagined it—if not for how sharply his own breath caught in response.

Draco was trembling again. Not from sadness this time.

From want.
From need.

...And then—he tilted his chin up.
Eyes still closed.
Lips parting slightly on a shaky inhale.

Waiting...

Harry carefully leaned in, his hand tangling into Draco's soft, platinum blonde hair, and then...

Shout out again to Salvador

Chapter Text

(Guys if at any point it says 'your' or 'you' when a character isn't talking, it's bc I kept writing this like the reader was Harry and I'm too lazy to beta read so yea)

Harry just couldn't do it, he just pulled Draco close in a tight hug, he couldn't, he just couldn't kiss Draco until they were officially dating, Harry just didn't want to get his heart broken, he couldn't risk it..

Draco's heart skipped a beat as he was pulled into the hug—and then stopped completely when he realized what Harry was doing. Or, what Harry wasn't doing.

Draco tried to hide the disappointment that flashed across his face, burying it in Harry's shoulder.

...So Harry didn't want to kiss him.

Okay.

It was fine.

It was 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦—

Until it wasn't.

Until the tears started falling again.
Until Draco's shoulders started to shake.

Draco kept his face pressed against Harry's shoulder, his entire body shuddering as he cried silently into the fabric. Every part of Draco ached—his heart, his head, his damn eyes—and all he could think was.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘥'𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴...

Meanwhile, Harry felt like absolute shit. Everyone of Draco's tears he felt land against his robes was a dagger in the 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭.

It wasn't until Draco finally, finally, spoke that the weight of it all hit.

"...why..."

"I-i... -.... I'm sorry...." Harry muttered, his voice shaky with regret. "I just.. -.. I need some time.." Harry managed to mumble out, feeling his face flush slightly red as tears of pure regret formed in his eyes, damnit, he 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 Draco so much and Harry had just ruined any chance he had with him..

Draco felt his heart twist as the words sunk in, his own tears slowing as a new wave of hurt crashed over him.

He knew what you meant.

Time.

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

And the worst part?

He couldn't even hate Harry for it. After all, he'd just done the exact same thing Draco been too terrified to do:

Backed out before it became something... real.

"Okay..." Draco whispered...

"...take all the time you need."

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙙𝙖𝙮 (it hurts me top guys, it hurts me too😔)

The next day, the castle felt heavier.

Harry moved through the halls like a ghost—quiet, distracted. Every corner Harry turned, every portrait he passed, it reminded Harry of 𝘩𝘪𝘮. The way he looked at him yesterday. The way he whispered his name like it meant something.

And now? Silence.

Draco hadn’t come to breakfast.
Ron and Hermione didn’t say anything—but their eyes said enough.

Then, in the corridor just outside Charms…

Harry saw him.

Pale as ever. Hair neatly combed once again, no longer that slightly messy hair Harry had blushed over yesterday—back to perfect Malfoy standards—but his eyes… they were red-rimmed again. He looked exhausted.

And when he saw 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺?

He didn’t sneer.
Didn’t insult.
Didn’t even flinch.

He just… stopped walking.

Looked straight into Harry's emerald green eyes…

And gave one small nod—so quiet most wouldn't notice—and walked away without a word.

Like goodbye had already begun before either of you were ready for it. Harry couldn't take it, before Draco even turned away, Harry rushed to the boys bathroom, tears beginning to spill over his emerald eyes as he ran.
Draco watched Harry run down the hall, and if he had even the tiniest shred of hope left before, that was gone in an instant.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and continued walking, the sound of Harry's sobs echoing faintly in his ears even as he walked away.

And then, a few minutes later, as he sat down in the Charms classroom, he couldn't help but think—

𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩?

Gray.

It was everywhere.

The stone walls.
The morning mist beyond the windows.
Even Professor Flitwick’s old quill, its nib stained dull gray with ink.

And every time— 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 —Harry's breath hitched.

He'd freeze. Blink hard. Clench his fists in his robes like he could squeeze the ache out of his chest.

But it didn’t work.

Because all Harry could see was Draco’s face when he nodded at him in the hall… like Draco had already accepted that this—the silence, the distance, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯—was all that would ever be between then now.

And God…

Harry missed him so damn much after only 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳

Harry had made it through Herbology and History, somehow, the ache in his chest easing slightly in the open air outside.

But it came slamming back with full force during Potions.

It was the class Draco and Harry always sat together in, so Draco could help Harry make sense of the complicated spells in the potions (Snape had made Draco stay with Harry🌝), so Draco could whisper witty remarks about Seamus' explosions, just for the tiny moments Harry would brush Draco's shoulder.

Now... it was just a reminder of what Harry had lost.

he'd almost forgotten how 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 Potions could be.

A few 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 hours later (idk what to write on some parts ok?! 😔 that's why there's so many time skips)

The afternoon felt like a nightmare.

By the time Harry had made it back to the Gryffindor common room, he was 𝙚𝙭𝙝𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙. Not in the "I need a nap" way... but the "my emotions have wrung me dry" kind.

So when Harry rounded the corner and saw Draco, standing near the fire like he was waiting….

Harry blinked, thinking he was hallucinating.

But no.

It was really him. Pale as ever. Grey eyes fixed on Harry. Waiting.

Harry just stopped, his breathing hitched.

suddenly, it felt as if he couldn't breathe, like his heart had stopped, tears already beginning to prick the corners of his eyes before he even fully processed that Draco was standing right in front of him.

Draco watched Harry freeze, and his heart twisted in his chest.

He hated seeing Harry look so 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 Hated knowing he was the reason behind it. Hated all the ways he'd been replaying this moment in his head, imagining what he'd say to finally get through to Harry...

...and now, confronted with the real thing, all he could manage was:
"Can we talk?"

Draco's voice was quiet. The opposite of the usual sharp, cutting tone he usually spoke with. It sounded small. Broken. Just like 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺.

Draco took a single step forward, closing the small gap between himself and Harry even further.

And then another.

And another.

Until Draco was close enough that if he reached out, he could touch Harry.

But Draco kept his hands to himself. Hands that he now noticed were trembling.

"Please.." Draco mumbled weakly, grey eyes boring into Harry's like he was desperate for him, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 for Harry.

"Just say something."

Harry couldn't help it, he practically 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘥 into Draco's arms, crying pathetically into Draco's chest. "i-i... -I... I'm sorry..... i-i love you... I 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 you since second year... i-i was just too stupid to realize.." Harry gasped out, his legs trembling beneath him as he held Draco tightly as if he'd disappear if he let go for even a second.

For a heartbeat—just one—Draco went completely still.

And then…

His arms snapped around Harry like he was 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 for this. Like he’d waited years just to hold Harry.

"You idiot..." Draco choked out, voice cracking. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, mixing with Harry's where their faces pressed together. "You absolute 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘵.. I’ve loved you since 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳. Since that damn train ride where you didn’t even flinch when I offered my hand." (in the book the handshake thing happened on the train🌝🌝)

Draco buried his face in Harry's neck, breath ragged, hands clutching the back of Harry's robes like they were keeping him alive.

"...I thought... I thought today was the last time I'd ever see you..."

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

They just... held each other.

And the more time passed, the tighter Draco’s grip got. Like he was terrified Harry would pull away. Like he thought Harry still might turn and run if he loosened up even a little.

Harry weren't sure how long he'd stood there, just breathing in the familiar scent of Draco’s cologne and feeling the rise and fall of his chest, but eventually…
He pulled back.

His grey eyes were bloodshot. His face was wet with tears and snot.

And he couldn't breathe properly with Harry so vulnerable in his arms..

Draco’s grip tightened even more—fingers pressing hard into Harry's back—as if he was trying to 𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦 Harry into him. Like if he held on long enough, Harry would become part of his very bones.

And Harry? He leaned into it, welcoming the ache in his ribs, the slight burn in your lungs from not breathing right.

Because this—𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦—was where Harry was supposed to be.

After years of glares across the Great Hall.

After every insult. Every duel. Every time one of them walked away instead of staying…

Now?

Harry wasn't letting go.

And from the way Draco trembled against Harry—like he was finally safe after years lost at sea—it didn't seem like 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰.

They'd lost track of how long they'd spent in the other's arms.

But eventually... Harry pulled back enough to look at Draco— 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 at him.

His hair was messy from where Harry's fingers had gently tugged at it. His gray eyes were bloodshot still, tears staining his pale cheeks. His shoulders were shaking, tiny gasps escaping his lips every few seconds.

He looked 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥

And damn him, he was the most gorgeous thing Harry had ever seen.

"k-kiss me..- 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 ..." Harry mumbled, his voice choked and raw from crying, desperately wanting- no, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 Dracos 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵..

Draco stilled, his breath catching in his chest as Harry's words sunk in.

He'd daydreamed about this moment more times than he could count.
Hearing Harry say it.

Seeing Harry's flushed cheeks, his wet eyes, his quivering lips...

It made it real.

And God—

He wanted it.

Wanted it so damn badly that he barely managed to rasp out, "Are you sure...?"

"Yes.... i-i 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 it, I need 𝘺𝘰𝘶.." Harry muttered, his usually cheerful emerald green eyes now full of unshed tears and desperation for just one damn kiss from Draco.

Draco's gaze darkened at the begging tone, the way Harry's eyes pleaded with him like he'd die if he said no.

And then he was pulling Harry closer, one hand snaking into his messy hair, the other resting on Harry's hip, his hands accidentally squeezing Harry's arse, causing a small whimper from Harry—and he pulled Harry forward, pressing his body against his as if in a silent

'𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵.'

And then their lips met, and it was like—

𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦.

The kiss was soft. Tentative.
But beneath it—𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨

And in that moment, every argument, every sneer, every hex they’d ever thrown at each other felt like nothing but a cover.

A 𝘭𝘪𝘦.
A desperate way to hide the truth:

Harry had been 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 for this since he was fifteen, when he started having thought's of actual relationship's

When Draco first stepped onto that train with his sharp chin and haughty voice and eyes like stormlight...

He knew.

And now—after years of pretending not to care, not to notice how he walked or talked or tucked his hair behind his ear when he was nervous—

Harry were finally kissing him.
And Merlin…

He tasted even better than Harry had imagined.

The hand in Harry's hair curled, pulling him impossibly closer.

Draco wanted 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, wanted Harry so close he could feel his heartbeat against his chest. He nipped Harry's bottom lip gently, the action so 𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘰 that it made Harry's knees weak.

But his other hand on Harry's hip... that one was desperate. Fingers trembling as they gripped Harry's robes like a lifeline.

Dracos mind was blank now.
Empty, as if every coherent thought had vanished.
He couldn't think. Couldn't move.

Could only feel.

Could only taste.

Could only—

God, the 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦...
He nipped Harry's lip again, harder this time, as the hand in Harry's hair tightened and he tried to pull Harry even closer.

Every part of him was 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 for more.

More of Harry, closer, more, more, more—

The portrait wung open with a creak.

And there they were.

Ron froze mid-step, his eyes widening like he’d just seen a Dementor. His jaw dropped so hard it might've been a world record.

Hermione?
She stopped short—then 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥

"Took you two long enough," she said, smiling as she nudged Ron, who was still standing there like someone had stunned him with a silent 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘧𝘺.

Draco immediately pulled back—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰. One arm stayed wrapped around Harry's waist, possessive and defiant—even as his face burned red.

And when he finally spoke?

His voice was low. Smug. Unapologetic.

"...What? Never seen two people kiss before?"

Harry's face was 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦.
Harry could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks all the way to his ears.

But Harry didn’t let go.

Hands still resting on Draco’s chest—heart pounding beneath Harry's fingers—and even as Ron spluttered something about “betraying the house of Gryffindor” and “Slytherin tricks,” Harry just… held on tighter.

Hermione, still grinning like she’d won a bet no one else knew about, looped her arm through Ron’s before he could cause a scene.
“Come on, Ronald,” she said, tugging him toward the stairs. “Let them have this.”

And as they disappeared up the staircase—

Draco turned his stormy grey eyes back to Harry's emerald green eyes.

…and smirked.

"...Guess we’re official now."

Chapter Text

The moment Ron and Hermione were out of sight, Draco’s facade 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥.

He exhaled like the weight of the world was off his shoulders—and then his entire body leaned into Harry's, as if he could only stay standing with Harry there to anchor him.

Draco's forehead dropped to Harry's shoulder, face burying into the curve of his neck.

And he inhaled deeply, as if trying to imbed Harry's scent into his nose.

"Merlin," Draco whispered, voice shaky. "I'm so bloody in love with you, you complete 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘳."

"shut up." Harry muttered, his face presses up against Draco's chest, his cheeks (no, not his butt cheeks) still red and stained with tears from crying earlier.

Draco chuckled into Harry's messy brown hair, the low sound sending a shiver down Harry's spine.
Draco's arms pulled him closer.

"No," he whispered. "Never."

There it was.

The smirk Harry 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 to hate.

The tone he 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 to hear.

The boy he'd spent years fighting and denying his feelings for.

And he was 𝘩𝘪𝘴.

"You're stuck with me now,"Draco murmured. "No more running."

𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳.

They had calmed down.

Harry were leaning against the fireplace now, arms wrapped around each other so tightly the other was starting to feel like an extension of Harry's very being.

There was just something so 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 about Draco. Like their bodies were made to fit together.

Even the silence was perfect.

Until Harry broke it.

"...Draco?" He murmured into his chest.

"Yeah?" Draco whispered, voice softer than Harry had ever heard it. Draco's fingers traced slow circles on Harry's back, like he was afraid he'd vanish if he stopped touching him. (NOT LIKE THAT)

The firelight danced across Draco's face—highlighting the sharp curve of his cheekbones, the softness of his lips still slightly swollen from kissing Harry—and for a heartbeat, Harry forgot how to speak.

He just stared.

And loved what he saw.

"i love you.." Harry mumbled quietly, voice hardly above a whisper, the sudden realization that Draco was now his to love, kiss, cuddle, and just adore hit him hard, tears forming in his eyes yet again, oh God... it was real... He was dating Draco.

Draco’s breath caught.

He stared at Harry—𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 stared—as if he wanted to memorize the exact way Harry's emerald green eyes shone with tears, the way Harry's voice cracked like it was breaking open just to say those three words.

And then—

Draco's arms tightened around Harry like he’d never let go.
His forehead pressed gently against his.
And when he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper—but it carried the weight of every unspoken word they'd ever shared.

"...Don't cry, Harry."

A shaky breath.

"Say it again."

"I need to hear it again."

Tears began to spill down Harry's face when he heard Draco say his name, 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮, Draco only ever said his actual name when he was mocking him. "i-i love you.. i-i love you so much.." Harry choked voice cracking every few words as he began to cry.

"Oh, 𝘔𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯."

Draco tightened his grip on Harry so hard he might leave bruises, but neither of the two cared.

Not when every word Harry spoke was like music to Draco's ears.

Not when he'd spent 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 pining for Harry—dreaming, wishing, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨—he'd just say it once.

And now he had.

𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he choked out. "I goddamn 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 you."

When Harry settled against Draco's lap, arms around his shoulders so that they were face-to-face, it was like the final puzzle piece sliding into place.

Draco pulled Harry impossibly closer, his hands tangling in Harry's messed up hair like they'd been doing it his whole life—and when Harry started crying harder, his entire body 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥.

Because he 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 it.

Every tear.

Every breath.

Every heartbeat, wild and 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, right against his chest.

It was quiet again.

Harry stopped crying, but the tears left his face flushed, eyelashes damp where they fanned across his cheeks. Draco's fingers combed through Harry's hair idly, like the motion was something he'd been doing forever.

He didn't say anything. Didn't have to. He just... sat there. Holding him.

Like Harry was the most fragile—and most precious—thing in the whole world.

Until he whispered, soft, against his hair:

"So what now?"

"I don’t care," Harry mumbled into his neck, fingers still tangled in his robes. "We could stay here. Or go to the dorms. Or sneak out to the Astronomy Tower."

A slow, teasing smirk tugged at Harry's lips.

"Snog all night like proper lovebirds."

Draco chuckled—low and warm—and tilted Harry's chin up with two fingers.

"As tempting as that sounds, Potter..." he said, voice dripping with mock seriousness, "...I 𝘥𝘰 believe we've got a reputation to uphold."

Harry's eyebrow quirked.

"...Oh?"

He leaned in close—lips almost brushing Harry's.

"You're dating a 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺 now. And we 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 snog like commoners."

Then he paused...
"...We shag against castle walls at midnight."

And just like that—the old Draco was back.

Smirking. Cocky.

Harry couldn't help but laugh against his mouth before pulling him into another kiss—

Slow.
Sweet.
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘴.

Harry's hands tangled in Dracos soft, almost white, blonde hair, messing it up slightly from its perfect style, making him look like he'd just gotten into a fight with the Whomping Willow his fingers tracing patterns against Draco's scalp.

Draco let out a soft, shuddering breath as Harry's fingers tangled in his hair—his perfectly styled, always-in-place hair—and for once, he didn’t care.

Let it be messy.
Let it be tangled.

Every touch sent sparks down Draco's spine, especially when Harry's nails gently scraped against the sensitive skin of his neck.

Draco arched into Harry's touch with a quiet moan—just barely there—but loud enough to make Harry's breath hitch.

“Y’know…” he murmured between kisses, voice low and hazy with want. “If you keep doing that… I might actually 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘳 like a damn cat.”

And then—

A smirk. Sharp. Sly.

"...Would you like that, Potter?"

Draco felt Harry bury his face into his shoulder and couldn’t help the smug little chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

"Oh, don’t hide now," Draco teased, voice soft and teasing, one hand sliding down to gently squeeze Harry's hip. "Not when you’re the one making 𝘮𝘦 lose control."

He leaned back just enough to look down at him—𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 look—and that smirk returned, slow and dangerous.

“And for the record… I 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 how short you are.” His voice dropped lower. “Means I can loom over you later… when I’ve got you pinned against a wall and your legs wrapped around my waist.”

Harry's entire body burned.

But before he could retaliate—

Draco kissed him again.

Soft.
Deep.
Possessive.

Like he’d been waiting seven years to claim every inch of your mouth…

And was finally doing it.

You were both quiet now.

Just breathing.
Just 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Draco rested his chin on the top of Harry's head, fingers lazily tracing circles into his back as the firelight flickered over the two of them.

Outside, Hogwarts stood silent under a blanket of stars.

Inside?

Harry was curled in Draco’s lap—heart full, face still flushed, body humming with warmth and something deeper… something like 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨.

And then he said it—softly, almost shyly:

"...We should probably tell someone. Eventually."

Harry tilted his head up to look at him. Smiled through tired eyes.

"...Later," he whispered. "Let’s keep this just ours for a little longer."

They didn’t even bother with covers.

The moment they both tumbled onto Harry's four-poster—Draco’s arms still locked around Harry like he was afraid to let go—the exhaustion hit like a Bludger to the chest.

Draco shifted slightly, adjusting so Harry could rest his head against his chest while one arm stayed firmly curled around his waist.

"Merlin," he mumbled into his hair, voice already drowsy. "Your bed is 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 uncomfortable."

Harry snorted. “Shut up. It’s Hogwarts standard.”

"...Still awful."

But despite the complaint, he didn’t move.

Didn’t try to leave.

Just pressed a soft, sleepy kiss to the top of his head—and whispered—

"Night... 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺."

Draco could feel the way Harry relaxed against him, could hear the way he sucked in a shuddering breath at something as simple as his 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦.

It gave him a strange pang in his chest—a little flutter that almost winded him.
God, Harry was 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴.

He tightened his grip on Harry as he curled even closer, so close Draco could feel Harry's heart pounding against his ribs.

"Hey..." he whispered, low and soft, in the quiet after midnight. "...D'you think anyone would notice if we went off to the Astronomy Tower tomorrow?"

Harry thought about it for a few seconds before giving a response "Don't know.. Depends 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 we decide to go.." He muttered, accepting the invitation without even realizing it.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺

Sunlight streamed through the hangings of Harry's four-poster, painting golden streaks across Draco’s face as he stirred.

He looked... peaceful.

For a moment, Harry just watched him—his pale lashes fanned out, his lips slightly parted—before he blinked awake and immediately scowled at the light.

“Ugh. Morning is an insult to wizardkind.”

Harry snorted. “Says the bloke who sleeps like a spoilt cat.”

Draco's head snapped toward Harry—grey eyes sharp with mock offence.

“I’ll have you know, I am a perfectly dignified sleeper. You’re lucky I even stayed at all. The standards of this dormitory are frankly deplorable.”

And then—

He leaned in, softening.

Pressed his lips to Harry's in a slow, sleepy kiss that made his toes curl under the covers.

“...But I suppose,” he murmured against hus mouth, “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Harry's heart nearly exploded.

Breakfast was going to be 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.

Harry practically 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘥 into the kiss, it seemed Draco just naturally smelled 𝘢𝘯𝘥 tasted 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦
since right now, since Harry's own mouth probably smelled and tasted like a horse's 𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘦 since he hadn't brushed his teeth yet, but Draco still tasted of cherries, just like he had yesterday.

Draco pulled back just enough to smirk at Harry, Gray eyes glinting with that familiar Malfoy mischief.

“Don’t give me that look,” he whispered. “I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

Harry blinked.

“…What?”

“You think your breath is ghastly. That I’m some pristine rose who bloomed perfectly over night.” He tilted his head, voice dropping lower. “Newsflash, Potter—I used a freshening charm while you were snoring like a dying hippogriff.”

“I do 𝘯𝘰𝘵 snore!”

Draco arched a brow. “…You 𝘥𝘰. It’s disgustingly endearing.”

And before Harry could protest—

Draco kissed him again.

Slow.
Sweet.
Cherry-flavoured and utterly intoxicating.

And this time? neither of them pulled away to worry about anything.
Not breath.
Not reputations.

Just them.

Warm in each other's arms.
Real against their lips.

".. You taste like cherries.."

Harry mumbled against Draco's lips, his hand gently pressed against the other's chest, fingers tracing gentle patterns against the soft skin.

"The finest thing you'll ever taste, Potter. And now..."

He shifted just enough to deepen the kiss—soft but insistent—before pulling back with a tiny, wicked smile.

"...You're stuck with me 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺. No hiding. No running."

His hand slid up to cradle the back of Harry's neck, thumb brushing his jaw.

"And if you're 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 good... I might even let you snog me behind the tapestry on the third floor during lunch."

Harry's face burned.

"...You're impossible."

"Yours," Draco corrected softly. "𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 yours."

After a few more minutes—and 𝘸𝘢𝘺 more snogging—Draco finally pushed the covers back to get up.

"As much as I'd like to stay in bed and snog our faces off... my stomach has other plans."

Standing up, he stretched—back arching just enough to show off every muscle, giving Harry a tantalising view.

Then, looking down at Harry's own half-clad form sprawled on the sheets...

He let out a low, appreciative whistle.

"Damn, Potter. You look 𝘸𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥."

Harry flushed a soft shade of pink as warmth spread across his face. Embarrassed, he quickly reached for the sheets, tugging them up to his chin in a hurried attempt to conceal his bare chest from view.

"Oh, don't you 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦 cover up," Draco drawled, leaning down with a smirk. One hand reached out to tug the sheet back down—slow, deliberate. "I like the view."

Harry's blush deepened.

Draco straightened up, smoothing his hair slightly—well, as much as it could be after being thoroughly 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 by Harry's hands—and gave Harry that smug look.

"Besides... everyone’s going to know what we did last night anyway."

A pause.

"...Or didn’t do." He sighed dramatically. "Such a waste of an empty dorm."

Harry groaned and pulled the sheet back over your head—but Draco just laughed: bright, genuine... 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺.

And then he whispered—

"Get up, Potter. We’ve got a reputation to destroy… together."