Work Text:
Draco woke slowly. For several blissful seconds, he didn’t remember where he was. Then someone breathed against the back of his neck. Draco opened his eyes. Right. Harry. Last night. His entire body supplied the memories rather enthusiastically. His thighs ached, his hips were tender, his mouth felt bruised.
And Harry Potter was asleep behind him with one arm wrapped around his waist. Draco stared at the wall. He considered extracting himself before Harry woke. They could dress, go to breakfast separately, and perhaps agree never to talk about it.
“You’re thinking very loudly.” Draco stiffened. Harry’s voice was rough with sleep.
“I wasn’t aware thinking produced sound.”
“Yours does.”
The arm around Draco’s waist tightened. Draco looked down at it. “You’re awake then.”
Harry pressed his face between Draco’s shoulder blades, and Draco’s heart did something embarrassing. Neither of them spoke for a while. Then Harry said, “We probably need to talk.”
Exactly what Draco was trying to avoid. He closed his eyes. “Must we?”
“Probably,” Harry murmured, lips pressed to Draco’s shoulder.
“Can’t we simply have sex again?” Harry laughed against his shoulder, and Draco smiled despite himself.
Harry went quiet for a moment. “What are we doing?”
Draco’s smile disappeared. “I don’t know.”
Harry shifted behind him. “Do you want this to be just-”
“No.” The answer came so quickly Draco wanted to swallow it back.
Harry didn’t say anything. Draco reluctantly rolled over. Harry was watching him. His hair was an absolute disaster, and Draco knew he was the reason why.
“No,” Draco repeated, quietly. “I don’t.”
“Okay.”
Draco frowned. “Okay?”
“I don’t either.”
Something warm and frightening spread through Draco’s chest. “So…”
“So,” Harry echoed.
“Are we-”
Harry smiled slightly. “I think we’re doing a terrible job of asking each other out.”
Draco snorted. Harry reached between them and took his hand. It was such a simple thing. Draco stared at their intertwined fingers.
“Harry.”
“Hm?”
“There are things you should know before you decide you want this.”
Harry’s smile faded. “I already know.”
Draco looked towards his left forearm. An ugly reminder of what he had done. He suppressed the urge to cover himself. “No. You know what I did. That’s not the same thing.”
Harry was silent. Draco continued staring at his faded Dark Mark. “I meant what I said the other night.”
“Which bit? There was quite a list.” Draco glared at him. Harry’s mouth twitched but only briefly.
“The first year part,” Draco said. Harry went still. Draco studied their joined hands, because looking at the Mark or at Harry felt impossible anymore. “I liked you.”
“What?”
“I liked you before I even met you.” Harry blinked. “You were Harry Potter. Every child in our world knew your name.” Draco swallowed. “And then I approached you in the most spectacular way. And when you didn’t take my hand, I was humiliated.” Harry squeezed his hand gently. “I’d told myself I was going to be friends with Harry Potter. I’d convinced myself you would obviously want to be friends with me. And then you looked at me like…”
He stopped. “Like what?” Harry prompted.
“Like you’d already decided what I was.”
Harry looked stricken. “I was eleven. And I was wrong.”
“You werent’t entirely wrong, though,” Draco said quietly. “I was horrible to you and your friends.” Harry didn’t contradict him, and Draco’s heart clenched. “I didn’t know how to fix it,” Draco continued. “After that first year, every time I tried to get your attention, I made everything worse. So eventually…”
“You just kept being horrible.”
“Yes.”
Harry frowned. “You spent six years tormenting me because you fancied me?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds somewhat unreasonable.”
“It was extremely unreasonable.”
“I was a child.”
“So was I!” Harry nearly shouted.
They stared at each other. Then, somehow, Harry started laughing. Draco did too. It lasted only for a few seconds before Draco’s laughter caught strangely in his throat.
“I really am sorry.” Draco could feel tears burning behind his eyes now, humiliating and unavoidable. “For all of it. Your friends. The things I called Granger. The stupid badges. Your family. Everything.” His voice cracked. “I kept hurting you because being hated by you was better than being nothing to you.”
“Draco…”
“I know how pathetic it sounds.”
“It doesn’t.”
Harry reached for him. Draco let himself be pulled closer. For a while, Harry simply held him. Then Draco felt something warm against his forehead. When he pulled back, he wasn’t ready for the sight of Harry’s tears.
“Oh,” Draco whispered.
Harry scrubbed angrily at his face. “I dream about the bathroom sometimes,” Harry said so quietly that Draco almost missed it. Draco stopped breathing. Harry stared somewhere over Draco’s shoulder. “You’re on the floor.” Draco’s fingers tightened against his. “There’s blood everywhere.”
Draco’s eyes burned. “Harry.”
“I can’t stop it. In the dream, I keep trying, but there’s so much fucking blood, and you’re just lying there.” Draco didn’t know what to say. “I thought I’d killed you.”
Harry’s face crumpled. Draco moved without thinking, pulling Harry against him.
“I thought I’d killed you,” Harry repeated into his shoulder. “And then Snape came, and I ran.”
“You were scared.”
“I left you there.”
“You were sixteen, Harry.”
“So were you.”
That silenced them both. Harry’s fingers twisted into the back of Draco’s shirt.
“I’m so sorry.”
Draco shut his eyes. “I know.”
“No.” Harry pulled back. “I need you to hear it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what that spell did, but I used it anyway. I wanted to hurt you.”
Draco swallowed. “I was about to use Crucio.” Harry nodded. “And I would have been able to cast it successfully.”
Harry’s eyes were red. “If I could go back,” Harry whispered, “I’d let you.”
“What?”
“I’d take the Crucio.”
Draco recoiled. “No. Don’t you ever say that.”
“I nearly killed you.”
“And you think I’d rather have tortured you?”
“You were going to.”
“I was terrified!” Draco was crying properly now. Harry went silent. “I was falling apart,” Draco continued. “I couldn’t do what he wanted. I couldn’t kill Dumbledore. I couldn’t save my family. I couldn’t even fucking breathe most days, and then you appeared, and you knew, and I panicked.”
Harry stared at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” Draco wiped furiously at his face. “And I certainly don’t want you wishing I’d succeeded.”
Harry’s hand came up to his cheek. Draco leaned into it.
“I knew,” Harry whispered.
“Knew what?”
“That you were scared.”
Draco laughed bitterly. “Everyone knew.”
“No.” Something in Harry’s voice made Draco look at him. “I knew what he was doing to you.” Draco went completely still. Harry looked sick. “I saw him use Crucio on you.”
“What?”
“At the Manor.” Draco couldn’t breathe. “Not when we were captured. Before that. Through the connection with Voldemort.” Draco flinched at the name. “I saw it happen more than once.” Harry’s voice broke. “I couldn’t do anything.”
Draco felt suddenly cold. “You saw?”
Harry nodded. “You always looked so composed at school. Even in sixth year. I knew something was wrong, but…” He swallowed. “Seeing you on the floor in front of him was different.”
Draco closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That you saw.”
Harry made a broken little sound, tears streaming down his face. “You were being tortured.”
“I survived.” Neither of them spoke for a while.
Draco’s thumb moved over Harry’s hand. “There is something else.”
Harry gave a watery laugh. “Apparently we’re doing all of them today.”
“Seems efficient.”
“Go on.”
Draco hesitated. “Fourth year.” Harry frowned. “After the Tournament.” Harry’s expression changed. “I came to see you.”
“What?”
“In the hospital wing.”
“You absolutely did not.”
“Not while you were awake, you idiot.” Harry stared at him. “It was late. Everyone had left. I knew something terrible had happened, although obviously I didn’t know exactly what.”
“You hated me in fourth year.”
“I’ve just explained this to you. I was very bad at liking you.” Harry’s mouth fell open slightly. “I stood beside your bed for perhaps ten minutes.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you were breathing.” Harry’s eyes filled again.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Draco muttered, because his own were doing the same.
“You came to check if I was alive?” Harry asked quietly. “After spending an entire year wearing Potter Stinks badges?”
“I said I was sorry about the badges.”
Harry laughed through his tears. Then he leaned in and kissed Draco. It was barely even a kiss. Just Harry’s mouth pressed shakily against his. When they separated, Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s.
“I was terrified another time too,” he whispered. Harry waited patiently. “The Manor.” Harry’s body stiffened. “When they brought you in. I knew it was you.” Harry’s breath caught. “I could barely see your face, but I knew.”
“You said you weren’t sure.”
“I lied.”
“I know.”
“No, Harry.” Draco opened his eyes. “I lied.” Something in his voice made Harry go very still. “I knew what would happen if I said it wasn’t you and they discovered I’d lied. I lied anyway.”
“Draco.”
“I was so fucking scared.” His voice broke. “I thought you were going to die. I thought we were all gonna die. And then you escaped.” Harry’s fingers tightened around his, and Draco stared at their hands. “Voldemort knew.” Silence. “He knew I’d lied.” Harry stopped breathing. “And after what you did in the hall, after the escape, after all of it - he was furious.”
Draco didn’t need to describe it. Harry understood. Draco could see the moment he understood.
“No.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t-” Harry’s voice cracked. “Don’t say that.” Draco looked at him. “What did he do?”
“Harry.”
“What did he do to you?”
“The usual.” Draco wet his lips. “But worse. I was unconscious for three days afterwards.”
Harry flinched as though Draco had struck him. “Because of me.” Draco shook his head. “Because you protected me.”
“I made the choice.”
“And then he tortured you for it.”
“I would make the same choice again.”
Harry covered his face. His shoulders shook. Draco’s heart broke. He pulled Harry into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” Harry choked out.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Harry, stop.” Harry was sobbing now, and Draco couldn’t help but sob as well.
“You saved my life.”
“And you saved mine. In the fire.”
Harry laughed wetly against Draco’s shoulder. “We’ve got a really fucked-up way of showing affection.”
Draco snorted. “Speak for yourself. I merely engaged in sustained psychological warfare for six years.”
Harry laughed harder. Draco held him until the laughter dissolved into crying again. They stayed like that for a long time. Two boys who had hurt each other. Two boys who had saved each other.
Eventually Harry pulled back. His eyes were swollen. Draco suspected his own looked no better. “So what do we do with all of that?”
Draco thought about it. “We can’t undo it.”
“No.”
“We can’t be eleven again.”
Harry’s hand found his. “No.”
“I really did want you to take my hand.”
Harry was quiet. Then he shifted. He climbed out of bed. Draco frowned. “Where are you going?”
Harry stood beside the bed. His hair was sticking up everywhere. He was wearing nothing but yesterday’s boxers, his glasses were crooked, and he looked completely ridiculous and entirely beautiful. He held out his hand. Draco stared at it. His throat closed.
“Harry.”
“Hi,” Harry said softly. “I’m Harry.”
Draco’s eyes burned. “You absolute arsehole.”
Harry’s own eyes filled again. “Are you going to leave me standing here?”
Draco looked at his hand. Forty centimetres of empty space. Eight years. Everything between them. Then Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand. Harry pulled him out of bed and straight into his arms. Draco buried his face against Harry’s shoulder, and Harry placed a gentle kiss against his temple. “I’m taking your hand now.” Harry’s lips moved towards Draco’s cheek. He was so gentle. “And I’m not letting go.”
Draco laughed through his tears. “You’re disgustingly sentimental.”
Draco pulled back just enough to look at him. Harry’s eyes were red. His face was blotchy. He was beautiful.
“So,” Draco whispered. “Are we together, then?”
Harry smiled. “Yeah.”
Draco kissed him. Slowly this time. No anger, no desperation, no trying to make the other hurt enough to finally pay attention. When they separated, Harry didn’t let go of his hand. Neither did Draco.