Chapter 7
**The Malfoy Library, A Week Later**
*It was a quiet afternoon in the library, the scent of old books and parchment filling the air. Draco was seated at the large table, a pile of books spread out in front of him. He was so engrossed in his research that he didn’t notice Harry slipping into the room until Harry was standing right next to him.*
Draco looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Harry leaned against the table, his eyes lingering on Draco’s face, tracing the lines of his features as if memorizing them. “Came to see you,” he replied, voice thick with affection.
Draco raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a soft grin. “You’re full of surprises lately, aren’t you?”
Harry chuckled and reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Draco’s face. The simple touch, so intimate and natural, made Draco’s heart flutter. He didn’t even think about it anymore when Harry touched him—it was just something that felt so right.
“You look beautiful today,” Harry said quietly, his voice low, only for Draco to hear. The words were so tender, so filled with love, that Draco couldn’t help the soft blush that spread across his cheeks.
“You always say that,” Draco replied, his voice teasing but soft.
“I mean it,” Harry insisted, his gaze never leaving Draco’s. “You’ve always been beautiful, Draco. And now, you’re letting yourself show it.”
Draco swallowed hard at the raw honesty in Harry’s words. He had always been unsure of his beauty, especially growing up in a world where perfection was expected. But with Harry, it was different. Harry wasn’t looking at him with critical eyes—he was looking at him with adoration, with awe.
Harry leaned in, his lips brushing against Draco’s temple in a kiss that was almost too soft, too gentle, to be real. It sent a shiver down Draco’s spine, the intensity of the moment washing over him.
“I love you,” Harry whispered against his skin.
Draco closed his eyes, letting the words sink in, the truth of them resonating deep within him. He had never felt so deeply loved before, not even from his own family. But with Harry, everything felt like it was falling into place.
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**That Night, The Malfoy Drawing Room**
*The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The evening had been quiet—just the two of them, enjoying each other’s company. Draco was dressed in a soft, flowing silk robe, the dark fabric contrasting beautifully with the pale skin of his neck. Harry couldn’t take his eyes off him, couldn’t stop the feelings that welled up inside him whenever Draco was near.*
They were sitting on the plush velvet couch, Draco’s head resting on Harry’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined. Harry’s hand moved to brush through Draco’s hair, the silken strands slipping through his fingers like water. It was a gesture so simple, yet it spoke volumes of how comfortable they had become with one another.
“Do you ever think about what it would be like to live without all the pressure?” Draco asked, his voice soft, as though the question had been on his mind for a while.
Harry’s hand stilled, and he turned to look at Draco, his expression serious. “All the time,” he admitted, his voice filled with quiet honesty. “But I think... being with you makes it easier. You make it easier.”
Draco smiled softly, looking up at Harry. “I never thought I’d be able to just... be myself. Not with everything I’ve been through. But you... you’ve made me feel like I don’t have to hide anymore.”
Harry leaned down, his lips brushing against Draco’s forehead, a gentle, loving kiss that was meant to reassure. “You don’t have to hide. I love all of you, Draco. Every part of you.”
Draco’s heart swelled at the words. For so long, he had hidden parts of himself, buried them beneath layers of expectations. But now, with Harry’s arms around him, with Harry’s love surrounding him, he felt free to explore every part of himself—the parts that had been hidden away for so long.
Harry pulled back just slightly, his eyes darkening with something deeper than affection. “And I’m not going to stop showing you how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice thick with promise.
Before Draco could respond, Harry’s lips were on his, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and full of longing. There was no urgency in the kiss, just a steady, unspoken understanding between them. Harry’s hand slid to Draco’s back, pulling him closer, the warmth of his body pressing against Draco’s.
For a moment, all of Draco’s doubts, all of his insecurities, melted away. All that mattered in that moment was Harry—Harry’s hands, his lips, his heart. Harry was showing him, in every touch, how much he was loved. It was as if the world outside of them no longer existed. The only thing that mattered was the connection they shared.
When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Harry whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. Always.”
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**A Week Later, In The Garden**
*The weather was perfect, the sun setting in a blaze of oranges and purples. Harry and Draco were walking side by side, Draco wearing a flowing dress this time, the soft fabric catching the light. He had never felt more like himself than he did now, and it was all because of Harry.*
They stopped near a fountain, the sound of the water soothing in the quiet evening. Harry turned to face Draco, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his hand sliding to Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart skipped, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into Harry, his body craving the closeness.
“I’m not afraid anymore,” Draco said softly, his voice barely audible above the sound of the water. “I’m not afraid of who I am, or of what you might think.”
Harry’s eyes softened, and he cupped Draco’s face with both hands. “You don’t have to be,” he whispered. “You never have to be.”
And then, in the fading light of the evening, Harry kissed him again—more deeply, more passionately than before, as if he couldn’t wait another second to show Draco just how much he meant to him. Draco kissed him back with equal fervor, the kiss full of everything they had said and everything they hadn’t.
As they pulled apart, both of them breathless, Draco couldn’t help but smile. This was it—this was what he had been searching for. And with Harry, he knew he was finally home.