Chapter 8
**The Malfoy Manor, The Next Full Moon**
*The moon was full, casting a silvery glow through the grand windows of the manor. The night was peaceful, but there was an undercurrent of something more electric in the air tonight. Harry and Draco were in the library again, their usual spot for quiet evenings together. This time, however, it was different. Tonight, Draco was dressed in an outfit that Harry had seen before—one of Draco’s most delicate dresses, made of pale lavender silk that shimmered in the dim light of the candles.*
Harry stood by the fireplace, watching Draco as he absentmindedly turned the pages of a book. There was something about the way Draco wore that dress, so effortlessly, so confidently. It wasn’t just the dress itself—it was Draco. He had grown into himself so much since they had become more than just friends, more than just allies. Every part of him radiated a beauty and strength that Harry found impossible to look away from.
"Draco," Harry finally said, his voice soft but laced with an undeniable intensity. "You look stunning."
Draco looked up, a faint blush coloring his cheeks at the compliment. “You’ve told me that a hundred times,” he said, his voice teasing but with an undertone of vulnerability.
“Then I’ll say it a hundred more,” Harry responded, his voice steady and sincere. He took a step forward, closing the space between them. “You deserve to hear it.”
Draco’s heart skipped a beat, the way Harry spoke to him now was unlike anything he had ever heard. It wasn’t just about the words—it was how Harry made him feel, as though everything about him was perfect. With each passing day, Harry’s affection was clearer, stronger. It was in the way he looked at Draco, the way he reached out for him in public and in private, showing everyone that he was proud of who Draco was.
Draco swallowed, his breath catching in his throat as Harry reached out to gently lift his chin, his touch light but full of intent. “Let me show you just how much I mean it,” Harry whispered.
Before Draco could respond, Harry leaned down, capturing Draco’s lips in a kiss that was slow, almost languid, as though Harry was savoring the moment, savoring him. The kiss deepened, and Harry’s hands moved to the back of Draco’s neck, pulling him even closer, pressing their bodies together.
Draco’s heart pounded in his chest, but this time, instead of hesitation, he felt only warmth, only certainty. Harry wasn’t pulling away. Harry was holding him tighter, not just physically, but emotionally. It was like a constant reassurance with every kiss, every touch—he was loved.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Harry leaned his forehead against Draco’s, their noses brushing together. “I want to give you the world, Draco,” Harry murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Draco’s chest tightened with the weight of Harry’s words. "And I want to give you everything too," Draco whispered back, his hands tracing the lines of Harry’s shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric.
It wasn’t just a declaration—it was a promise. They were both learning how to give each other pieces of themselves they had never known how to share before.
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**The Next Day, A Walk in the Gardens**
*The sun was shining brightly, and the gardens were full of blooming flowers—an oasis of color and life around them. Draco and Harry walked side by side, their hands brushing against each other occasionally as they talked. Draco had worn another dress today, this one a soft rose pink with lace detailing along the neckline. It was soft and flowing, and as the wind blew gently, it made him look like a figure out of a dream. Harry couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Draco was, how each new part of Draco’s transformation felt like it made him even more captivating.*
For a moment, they were silent, simply enjoying each other’s company. Then, Harry glanced at Draco, his eyes darkened with an emotion Draco couldn’t quite place. “There’s something about you, Draco,” Harry said, his voice thick with admiration. “It’s not just the way you look—although that’s… stunning—it’s the way you carry yourself now. You’ve changed.”
Draco’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, but it wasn’t the kind of doubt that used to haunt him. No, this was a different kind of uncertainty. The kind that came from feeling too seen, too vulnerable.
“I’ve just started letting myself be who I am,” Draco murmured, his voice soft. “After everything, I think... I think I was always afraid of being too much. Or not enough.”
Harry stopped walking and turned to face Draco, his expression serious. “You’re more than enough, Draco,” he said, his voice unwavering. “You’re perfect just the way you are. And I’m proud of you—for everything you’ve become.”
Draco’s breath caught at Harry’s words. He could feel the sincerity radiating from Harry, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like he was wearing a mask. Harry had seen every side of him now, and Harry still loved him. More than that, Harry cherished him.
Without thinking, Draco reached out, taking Harry’s hand in his. The gesture felt so natural now, but it still made Draco’s heart race every time. Harry’s fingers intertwined with his, his touch warm and firm, as if anchoring Draco to the earth.
Harry smiled at him, a small, gentle smile that was filled with everything Draco needed to hear but hadn’t known how to ask for. “You’re not alone in this anymore,” Harry said softly. “I’m here, Draco. Always.”
And with those words, Draco knew—he didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Not of being himself. Not of what the future held. With Harry by his side, there was nothing they couldn’t face.
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**The Following Night, Draco’s Bedroom**
*It was late, and the moonlight bathed the room in a soft, silvery glow. Draco was sitting by the window, his legs tucked beneath him, the fabric of his nightgown flowing around him. Harry had been there for hours, sitting by his side, and it was a comfortable silence that enveloped them.*
Harry was the first to break it, his voice soft and hesitant. “Draco, can I ask you something?”
Draco turned to look at him, his eyes curious. “Of course.”
“Why did you hide this side of you for so long?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity. “Why did you hide the softness, the gentleness?”
Draco looked down, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his nightgown as he tried to find the right words. “I guess… I was taught to hide it,” he said quietly. “I was taught to be cold, distant, to always present the image of strength and control. But with you…” He paused, his eyes meeting Harry’s, filled with a tenderness he hadn’t known he was capable of. “With you, I feel like I can let go.”
Harry’s heart swelled at the honesty in Draco’s words. He reached out, cupping Draco’s face in his hands, the simple touch sending a wave of warmth through Draco’s body.
“You don’t have to hide anymore, Draco,” Harry whispered. “You can be as soft, as gentle, as you need to be. I’ll be right here, loving you for every part of you.”
And then, Harry kissed him—not out of urgency or desire, but out of pure affection. It was soft, slow, and filled with everything they had both longed for. Draco melted into the kiss, feeling the full weight of Harry’s love surrounding him.
When they finally broke apart, Harry smiled at him, his expression soft and loving. “I love you,” Harry whispered, his voice full of conviction.
Draco smiled back, his heart lighter than it had ever been. “I love you too,” he murmured.
And in that moment, everything felt perfect. They were exactly where they needed to be—together.