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The first time Harry saw Draco after coming back to Hogwarts was when he was walking on the grounds, near the Forbidden Forest. It was odd being so close to that place, but at the same time it was strangely endearing. He never went in, it was too much. But he couldn't help being drawn to it.
It was weird. But Harry had never really been normal.
It was as he was dwelling in this sort of thoughts that he saw the familiar white blond hair blowing softly in the wind. Almost automatically, he neared the lone figure of his once enemy.
Words weren't necessary, they both felt somewhat lost in a world that rejected one and fell over itself to accept everything about the other. There, just the two of them together, they created a sort of peace born of balance, and they both reveled in the fact that they didn't had to be different, that they could be flawed and accepted at the edge of the place that had almost seen their end.
For a long time, they didn't really talk. They drifted towards each other and sighed in relief at the silence and lack of over eager expectations that was to be found in one another. But conversation arrived eventually, and even though it was a bit stilted and awkward at the beginning, it was honest. And it was that honesty, almost painful at times, that brought them even closer together. Truth was a foreign concept to both Harry and Draco, and once again they found in each other what they didn't even knew they were searching for.
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The whispers had increased considerably and it wasn't long in their newly formed friendship before Harry snapped. Nothing managed to push his buttons quite as much as the snide comments and sharp words thrown in Draco's direction, and soon everyone realized that if they didn't want to provoke the ire from the man who lived twice, they should keep their words to themselves. Specially seeing as Draco was apparently the only one capable of distracting Harry once he started ranting or glaring at the offenders. Their friendship, first frowned upon, eventually became one of the constants at Hogwarts.
Still, when the brush of shoulders became hugs and the smiles became kisses, they kept it to themselves. They had given so much of their lives to the world, now they wanted the comfort of their relationship to be just their own. But privacy was a foreign concept when it came to Harry Potter and it wasn't long before someone talked and the entire Wizarding World had an opinion about their lifes. About their love.
It put an almost unbearable strain on them, and delivered cold and lonely nights when they had already become used to the feel of warmth embraces and secret smiles under the sheets.
The world didn't deserve to take another piece of them.
So one night, holding a teary Draco in his arms, Harry said, "Run away with me."
They couldn't get out of that place fast enough.
It was in a small garden filled with flowers where the boy who lived married the boy whose life had always been intertwined with his, even if it took seven years of bickering for them to realize it.
But they had the rest of their lives to enjoy it. And they would spend it together, as they promised with a kiss that day in front of the smiles of their friends and the shower of petals that rained on their joined hands.