Chapter 5
Draco was *not* pleased.
Yes, logically, being rescued was the *goal*. They couldn’t exactly live out their days on a deserted island, no matter how *comfortable* Draco had become in Harry’s arms. But now, as a group of Aurors came storming onto the beach, wands raised and faces filled with relief, Draco felt something unpleasant twist in his chest.
Because this meant *his princess treatment was coming to an end*.
Harry was still holding him, arms wrapped securely around Draco’s waist where he had been settled in his lap by the fire. They had been watching the sunset, Draco lazily playing with a strand of Harry’s hair, when the rescue team had burst onto the beach.
"Potter! Malfoy!" A familiar voice rang out—*Weasley*, of course. "Are you two alright? What the *hell* happened?"
Harry blinked, as if snapping out of a daze. Draco felt the *slightest* hesitation before Harry loosened his grip, but not fully. That was *something*, at least.
"Uh, yeah. We’re fine," Harry said, voice a little rough. "Took you long enough."
"We’ve been searching *nonstop*," Hermione huffed as she hurried forward. "We thought you were dead!"
Draco sighed, dramatically draping himself against Harry’s chest one last time. "I *nearly* was. If not for Potter’s tireless efforts, I would have wasted away completely."
There was a long pause.
"*Why* is Malfoy in your lap?" Ron finally asked, eyes narrowing.
Harry blinked down at Draco, as if only just realizing how *deeply* Draco had embedded himself into his personal space. His hands were still resting on Draco’s waist, fingers lightly pressing into his sides.
Draco smirked.
"Stockholm syndrome," he offered lazily.
Ron made a face. "…That’s not how Stockholm syndrome works."
Draco waved a hand. "Semantics."
"You’re *enjoying* this, aren’t you?" Hermione asked, staring at him in disbelief.
Draco beamed. "Immensely."
Harry let out a *long* sigh, finally (and *reluctantly*) untangling himself from Draco as he stood. Draco scowled at the loss of warmth, but before he could properly sulk, Harry *picked him up* again.
Draco barely had time to smirk before Harry carried him over to the rescue team. "He refuses to walk," Harry said flatly.
"Potter understands his role," Draco said smugly, resting his head against Harry’s shoulder.
Ron groaned. "You two are *so* weird."
Draco only smirked, tightening his hold around Harry’s neck. Because rescued or not, Harry *still* hadn’t put him down.
Maybe this whole rescue thing wouldn’t be *so* bad after all.