Chapter Text
Drarry. That's what everyone called the dynamic when Harry and Draco were still together. Aside from school, they were almost inseparable. Not exactly over-the-top PDA, more like just hand-holding in the hallways, hooking their pinkies together when they were in close proximity, cute things of those sorts. Though..it all changed at the start of sixth year, when it seemed Lucius, Draco's father, found out about the relationship and pretty much brainwashed Draco into breaking up with Potter. Who, by the way, was absolutely devastated. It was like everything he'd ever known was now burned in a Muggle dumpster, stomped on, run through a wood chipper, and then burned again and scattered into the wind. But, the only thing he could say was that he was hurt. Deeply, deeply hurt. His friends, the Gods forbid, actually had the decency to comfort him...but they never liked Draco from the start. They weren't sure what Harry saw in the arrogant prick. So, when Harry went to his friends for comfort after the initial break-up, they basically gave him the "I told you so" and laughed at him.
By this point, it had been a week since the split. Harry was...depressed. Actually depressed. Mildly, he was still able to drag his sorry ass out of bed, but he ate much less in the Great Hall this morning. It was honestly concerning, but did anyone ask? Pfft, no. Fuck no. It was like nobody actually gave a damn. Naturally, he was one of the first ones out of the Great Hall, leaving mere minutes before everyone else was dismissed for classes. He figured he'd do it just to "clear his head", when in reality, he was off to find some place to wallow in his own self pity and sorrows. He found a nice, empty corridor, sinking down to the floor with his face in his hands, his glasses lenses catching his tears. He tried his best to cry silently, but occasionally a sob would escape and almost echo in the empty corridor. He'd been sitting there, too caught up in his own head, that he didn't notice someone sitting down beside him until he felt a hand on his arm. He jumped, almost screaming. "FUCK-" Harry was ready to fist fight, until he saw who it was....and it wasn't someone he'd expect. It was Blaise, his ex's best friend. "Blaise.." Harry croaked. "What are you doing here..? Er- You didn't need to see me like this-" He scrambled to dry his face. Blaise said nothing, taking Harry's glasses, which stopped the boy in his tracks. Blaise used the sleeve of his robes, carefully drying and cleaning the lenses, before cleaning Harry's face. A cute, caring gesture. Nothing he'd received from his friends in the past week...and he swore this mother fucker hated him. "Draco told me what happened...tragic, really." The boy murmured, wiping away the last tear streak. "You two were so cute together....but for his father to find out and force separation? That's...just cruel." He pulled back, and Harry just silently stared at him, not sure what to make of the gesture. Was Blaise being sincere? Or was this just another Slytherin thing of "Let me pretend to care so I can laugh about you later with my friends."?
"Look, Potter...I might not like you, but," Ah, there it is. "I'm not just gonna sit by and let this eat you alive." Oh? Wait...did he actually care? "I get it, you loved him. I'd be hurt too, if I were you. What you two had...it's not something you see every day. Two sworn enemies, falling for each other. Going against literally an entire castle of young wizards and witches, and not even to prove something. Just because...you loved each other. Harry," He grabbed the boys face in his hands. "That takes some balls to do. I may not like you, but I have to admit...you've done things I'd be too scared to even think about, and I have to give you credit for that." Blaise pulled Harry into a hug. "Don't let this eat you alive, mate. It'll get better...I promise." Those were the words that drove Harry off the edge. In an instant, he was hugging Blaise back like the boy was his only lifeline to reality, sobbing into his shoulder and mumbling about how he just couldn't understand why things happened the way they did, and how unfair it was. All Blaise could do was gently hold and rub a hand up and down the boys spine, shushing and murmuring that it'll be ok, that he'll be ok. He could feel Harry's hands grasp tightly at the back of his uniform robes. He felt bad for the boy. Truly, he did. He just didn't know exactly what he could do in this situation. He might have been decent as comforting people...but that was it. Decent. He couldn't go much further than sitting there in silence with them in his arms. Even then, sometimes, he didn't even know what to do at that point.
Neither of them knew how long they'd been sitting there in each others arms, a little bubble of emotions, hurt, comfort, and silent understanding. Harry didn't want to let go, and Blaise wasn't sure what else he could possibly say to the poor boy. At some point, Harry must have sobbed himself to sleep, because Blaise felt like he was holding just straight up a corpse. He pulled back just enough, and to nobody's surprise, Harry was, indeed, asleep. He face was flushed, the rims of his eyes were red, and his eyes were most likely bloodshot. He looked...soft. Blaise felt a clench in his chest. He wasn't falling for Harry, was he? Fuck, surely not? No way in hell. He liked girls. Women. Ladies. Not...not blokes, and definitely not Harry James Potter. However, with each passing second that he looked at the sleeping boy in his arms...Gods, the more he just wanted to protect him. Make sure the boy never got hurt again. Before he could catch himself, he turned his head to plant a kiss to the side of the boy's head. Harry stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. Instead, he just held onto Blaise tighter. Seems even when he was out cold, he needed the comforting embrace of a hug. The comforting presence of a person that seemed like they actually gave a damn.
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(Will be worked on when possible)