French, conversations, French conversations.
Hot. Heat burned through him in a flash. From contact to his stomach. Like drinking Firewhisky, but better. So much better. He felt his mind buzz, wanting to do more but waiting for a response. What felt like ages was probably only moments before Draco responded, his hands quickly diving into Harry’s mess of Hair and pulling the two of them even closer together. Draco kissed him like a man drowning.
Harry moved his hands to Draco’s hips, settling at his back while Draco’s hands slid around his neck, over his shoulders, gripping at his sweater, then back to the hair where he fisted it, trying to push Harry closer. Harry heard Draco take in a large breath through his nose and suddenly remembered that maybe the lightheadedness wasn’t just from how wonderful Draco was. Harry broke apart to gasp for air and Draco clicked his tongue before pulling Harry back in.
They fell back upon the sofa, gasping for a moment, their eyes met and before either of them could think to speak they dove in again. Draco crawled on top of Harry who sat up, suddenly it was extremely hot. So much hotter. Uncomfortably so. He let Draco pull off his new sweater, before Draco leaned back to pull off his own, placing both gently on the floor.
Harry took the moment to take in the beauty that was on his lap. Desheveld, flushed, panting. Harry didn’t have much time to gawk before Draco latched back onto him and Harry let his hand wander to Draco’s rear, where he gripped tightly, guiding Draco in a some grinding before a nose fell from Draco that lit a whole new fire inside Harry.
Harry gripped tighter, one hand at the rear, the other at Draco’s back, and stood. Draco was heavy, but Harry had held heavier things. He found after the war, the constant adrenaline rushes during fights had given him some extra muscle. Draco let out a gasp in surprise as Harry confidently walked, carrying Draco up to his room.
He kicked the door in, letting it rattle into the silence before groaning as Draco had decided he had gotten bored and it was time to occupy his time with Harry’s neck. Harry moved towards the bed and the two fell upon it. Harry broke apart, wanting a moment to appreciate who he had managed to get in his bed, when his eye caught something. He reached for it but Draco’s expression grew panicked and he reached as well.
Harry barely snatched it before Draco, who started to fight to get it back.
“What’s with you?” Harry asked, he was stronger than Draco, despite the height difference, and latched his legs around Draco’s chest before flipping them. Harry had Draco’s arms pinned under his knees as he sat on Draco’s chest, though he did lean back slightly to not break anything. Draco looked almost panicked, his skin blotchy with red rather than its previous even flush. Harry turned his attention towards the item.
It was a letter, he had noticed that quickly enough upon grabbing it, but it was addressed to him in a very familiar handwriting. Green. Green ink, green wax seal, green ribbon, flecks of green and gold mixed in with the parchment. Harry cracked it open.
From our youngest days to the youngest moments past, I witness you. Hair untamed, eyes a green unnamed, nothing to compair would be true. You are of legend, fire and gold, and yet still mortal man. For this reason I cannot stand, it is my heart you hold. Rejection taken, warring sides chosen, you rise above, and claim my love. Fair is not, what lies ahead, you give me hope when I once wished you dead. My rebelion, my change, my phoenix's rebirth, is because you saw me for my worth. So love with eyes of graceful green, passion seeing, knowing me. Could you hear my love even just to let it be. Do you notice how you are like no other, you give me life, purpose, color.
Harry read it a few times over in his head. When he finally glanced down at Draco, he had somehow freed his arms and was using them to hide his face as best he could.
“You know…” Harry said, feeling Draco jolt with panic beneath him. “I hear all the time, how my eyes were like my mothers, but no one really bothers to say how pretty they are.”
Draco, peeling back his own hands slightly to look, well.. Glare at Harry. His face is bright red, all the way from the tips of his ears down to his neck, his pale fingers showing the contrast.
“They are. Beautiful.” Draco said, defiantly.
“Well… I got that going for me.” Harry smiles, leaning in closer.
“You’re handsome as well.” Draco adds, more awkwardly.
“Cheers.” Harry smiles, leaning in. He kisses the knuckles of Draco’s hands, where Harry guesses Draco’s mouth hides just under. Draco moves them slightly.
“You’re well fit too.” Draco adds. He seemes mortified by his own words but Harry just smiles and pecks Draco on the lips.
“Takes one to know one.” Harry adds. Swooping in for a much nicer longer kiss. As Draco relaxes under Harry, he pulls them up so Harry is now sitting in Draco’s lap. “So.” Harry starts. Holding up the letter.
“What was your plan once I saw this?”
“Didn’t plan to be around. Figured I’d escape to Pancy’s or something. Maybe change schools.”
“Bit extreme.” Harry chuckled. “And Flur was looking forward to speaking French with you.”
Draco sighed, letting his forehead fall on Harry’s shoulder.
“How long are you going to torment me for this?”
“Torment you? Draco… You wrote me poetry. As cheesy as that is, it's adorable, and way less crazy than the other fanmail I get dosed with every kind of love potion known to man.”
Draco looked up at him, he was pouting. And Harry swooped in and gave him a long breathy kiss.
“I love this.” He didn’t say the full words yet. Neither had Draco outside of his poem. It felt a bit rushed. He instead set it aside and shuffled the two of them about till they were laying side by side.
“Well…” Draco finally started. “It’s not as good as ‘your eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad.”
Harry barked out a laugh before trying to shove Draco off the bed.
……………..
They had spent the night together, just sleeping side by side. And Harry was blessed with a sleeping Draco who had a slight snore and who’s hair shimmered like gold in the morning sun. Like his own personal angel.
He felt overwhelmed, started pecking little kisses on him because he knew he could. He could do that now. He could hold Draco’s hand. Cuddle up to him. Draco smiled, seeming to wake at Harry’s antics.
“Draco.” Harry softly called, a sing songy tone as he went in for a kiss.
“Master Potter.”
The two shot out of bed, they were still dressed for the most part, but it didn’t stop the two of them from clutching at the sheets as Creature stood at the bedside, a tray of… well, one dish looked like a decent breakfast, an omelet with a light salad and some cut fruit, the other looked like Harry could go fill a pothole with it.
“Breakfast for Master Potter and Master Malfoy.”
Creature made sure to know who’s was who’s. And with a low bow where his nose scraped the floor, a crack sounded and Creature was gone. Harry held up his plate, then held it upside down, the black wasn’t budging. It might actually be pitch.
“Oh here.” Draco said, vanishing the black and cutting his own omelet in half, sliding it over to Harry’s plate.
“Thanks dear.” Harry said in a singsong tone again, earning him a kick in the thigh from Draco who nearly sent him off the bed.
………………..
Harry felt gitty. The morning was spent with Harry sneaking kisses. Trying to distract Draco as he started to clear up some of the Christmas decorations. Harry was on trash duty and finished swiftly, giving him ample time to bother Draco.
As Draco fished down the Dragon's egg, which had gone back to sleep, Harry sitting at the piano, leaned over backwards and pouted until Draco gave him a kiss. Harry sprang up and started banging on the piano with joy before Draco slapped his hands away and joined him.
Draco let his hand drift across the keys in a lower octave, slowly, letting Harry copy some simple melody he didn’t know.
“Harry… what are we?”
“Attractive. According to your poem and my opinion.”
“Seriously Harry.”
Harry took his hand off the piano and let Draco continue, he looked over at his companion. Ever serious.
“I’d like to date you. If that wasn’t made clear from all the snogging.”
Draco fumbled, a misplaced note sounded followed by a pause before the melody picked up again.
“I wasn’t sure… if that was out of pity.”
“Pity?”
“I obviously fancy you…”
“Obviously?”
“And you’re you. You could have anyone.”
“Anyone?”
“Harry.” Draco groaned, annoyed. Harry picked up his place, copying Draco’s melody on the piano.
“It wasn’t obvious. I thought you hated me. Or tolerated me. You’re adorable. With your interests, your pens and ink and crafts.”
“Adorable?”
“I’m just happy to get this chance to know you. Because I like you.”
“I-” Draco’s head fell onto Harry’s shoulder. “Me too.”
“Good, then we got about a half hour before we need to set off for Bill and Flur’s.”
“A half hour?!”
“Yeah.”
“You-” Draco grunted as he freed himself, stumbling off the piano bench. “A bit more warning next time! I'm not even close to ready.”
“It’s just Bill and Flur, you’re fine as is.” In Harry’s sweater from a few years ago that hugged him so nicely and loose pajama trousers.
Draco hit him in the arm, then scrambled off to get ready.
………………..
“No.”
“What?”
“No way.”
“Why?”
“HARRY!”
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”
Harry revived his godfather's enchanted motorcycle again. Harry had gotten help from Mr. Weasley repaired it and had removed the sidecar once he knew Draco would be joining him. He grinned stupidly at Draco who pouted.
“Why not a portkey? Or Flu? Or BROOMS for Merlin’s sake!?”
“Didn’t have time to set up a portkey, they don’t have a proper fireplace for flu, and its a long ride.”
“Apperate then.”
“This is more fun!” Harry revived the motorbike again. “And less squishy.”
“Can you even fly that thing?” Draco backed up. Harry, reaching into his pocket, flipped to his muggle license.”
“It's ILLEGAL.” Draco shouted.
“So is that face of yours. Or it should be.” Harry winked. Snogging Draco Malfoy had been like his own felix felicis. Draco was his, in a manner of speaking, and Harry felt drunk on that fact alone. He patted the seat behind him. Sticking out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. Draco tossed up his arms in defeat and climbed on. He gently took Harry’s shoulders but Harry forcefully moved each hand to his stomach. Clenching them together to make sure Draco was wrapped up tightly. A flick of a switch and the bike vanished from muggle view. Harry released the break, slowly followed by the clutch and pulled back. As they started to rise, Draco held on tighter.
Yes, this had been Harry’s plan all along, before the snogging and poetry. But… Could you blame him?
……………………………..
The ride was smooth, and with the warming charms added it felt like something out of a dream as they rode through a light flurry of snow over London and into the countryside. The cottage stood out just barely among the wild grass and sand dunes. Harry pulled up and landed a little bit aways to keep too much sand from getting on the bike and enjoyed holding out a hand for Draco to delicately step off as if he was stepping out of a horse drawn carriage.
“I remember you saying something about wanting to go to Durmstrang, but did you ever concierge bobaton?” Harry had meant it as a joke. But he soon lost focus as he noticed Draco didn’t let go of his hand.
“Mother did.” Draco started to explain as they walked up the icy sand path. “It was far better than Durmstarang in her eyes, we have family in France that would be able to look after me. But father wouldn’t have it.”
Harry just nodded.
As they continued up the path they paused at Dobby’s grave, Draco seemed frozen in place, so Harry gave his hand a squeeze and he whispered “later” in his ear.
Harry knocked at shell cottage and the door swung open at once.
“Arry!”
Harry greeted Flur with a hug and she kissed him lightly on both cheeks before Bill was able to offer him a firm handshake.
“An you arh arry’s friend?”
Draco spoke, and Harry felt like his knees turned to jelly. Harry was no leagues good at french, so he couldn't really follow it one bit. But from the tone and how Draco held himself, Harry guessed it was a formal greeting. Straight backed, yet bowed slightly, Draco seemed to glow and Harry found a new love of French.
Flur, shocked but overwhelmed with joy, broke through to Draco and gave him a large hug and two much harder kisses on Draco’s cheeks. Her french was even faster than Harry could even comprehend. And yet Draco spoke in response understanding her perfectly.
“Fancy a cuppa Harry?” Bill said, a laugh in his tone, apparently Harry had grabbed hold of Bill’s arm for strength without thinking.
Inside shell cottage, Bill had fixed up some tea that Harry recognised as a mix Molly often grew at the burrow, it's made the place smell like home, and Harry noted to get the blend from Molly herself. Aside from this, a hint of salt hung in the air with another hint of coffee, apparently Flur preferred it, and she had made some marang cookies with hints of orange or lemon that Harry and Bill nibbled on as they watched the two blonds speaking in rapid fire French.
Flur, probably from missing her native tongue, had a lot to say. But Draco seemed to know just when to pop in and he joined her when she offered coffee which won him some extra points.
“Beautiful language, French.” Harry said rather dully, his head lullying on his arm that rested on the table.
“Yeah.” Bill agreed, with a similar dull tone.
They stayed silent to listen to the pair of blonds who seemed to be ignorant that they were being aggressively observed.
“One of the reasons I want to learn French, so I can hear it more.” Bill added. “But she still sings in French.”
He should get Draco to sing in French. He hadn’t a clue what the blond said but something about his voice changed.
Draco already had a nice voice. Refined, not too deep. He even liked Draco’s usual snobby nature, speaking sometimes with the rhythm of a melody, only hitting consistently hard when trying to make a point, or when he was angry. Harry didn’t mind him angry. But when Draco spoke French that voice, already like velvet, seemed to drape itself more wonderfully over the soft vowels and rolling tones. Ron once said speaking French sounded like you were talking with a mouthful of grapes, and when he had tried learning that was what it felt like. But Draco made him want to try again. Like Bill, anything to hear this Draco more. To know what he was saying.
The pair looked over at Bill and Harry and Draco tucked his face into his hands, turning red, while Flur laughed.
“Maybe he’s part velia.” Harry mused.
“Probably not. Flur said it's a rough union. So it's a rare bloodline.”
That made sense, they weren’t completely human. If Harry wasn’t so entranced he would be using the time to talk to Bill about his travels and work, getting advice for his future, as it were, he was trying not to drag Draco into the other room and ravish him.
Harry wasn’t sure what happened in the conversation, but suddenly Flur stood and pulled Draco along out of the room. Harry and Bill were woken from out of their stupor and looked at eachother sheepeishly.
“So, how are things?” Harry started, feeling they should probably have some conversation to show for the visit.
“Well enough. Haven’t seen Flur that happy in a while.”
“Another loss?” Harry asked tentatively. During the rebuilding of Hogwarts, Molly and Aurther sat Harry down and they had a full conversation about how he was officially family. Harry was added to Molly’s unique clock, and in return Harry convinced them to let them take some of Harry’s gold. Not that they really needed it. Arthur was given a raise even though he was posted back at his office in misuse of muggle artifacts, and George’s business was growing to be a small empire. They had two more locations soon to open, New York and Paris.
With that in mind, Harry was let into some of the family drama. Flur and Bill had been trying to have a child. It proved difficult as they had to apparently time things by the full moon and Flur’s cycle. They had only mentioned they were trying, but after the first mis-carrage, Flur had changed. She avoided family more, and Harry heard she would often confide in Molly.
It was a loss Harry couldn’t fully understand, but still empathise with. He had been wanting to visit Flur since the summer, but his schedule had been busy with trials.
Bill just nodded, looking down into his tea. “It’s probably my fault. My condition complicates things.”
Harry nodded. Fidgeting with his cup and taking a rather large awkward gulp before speaking.
“Stop me if I go too far, but speaking as an orphan who lost their parents. Maybe adoption could work for you both? If you're concerned about… I mean you both would be amazing parents. Any kid would be lucky.”
Thankfully, Bill smiled. “I was thinking something similar. I don’t think she’ll hear it now. We’ll keep trying. But she might be more persuaded if she thinks about it from your point of view.”
Harry smiled at that. He had donated a fair amount of gold to the St.Hufflepuffs London orphanage for witches and wizards. He hadn’t even known of it before he raised the idea of an orphanage to Hermione. But he mentioned to the caretakers there he wanted to be more involved in the future. He had already been thinking of adoption himself for years. He wondered what Draco would think.
“Arry! Bill! Come come! Ook!”
Bill and Harry turned to see Draco dressed in a beautiful sky blue. It was a bobaton uniform, a men's one. It seemed an older style. A dark blue lace trim divided the different sections and a glint of gold shown in the embroidery.
“I was right! No? E is the same size as my papa en e went to bobaton! Draco-” And then Flur broke into rapid French that Harry couldn’t catch. At one point, Draco, face blazing red, spun. It was like flower petals caught in the wind spun round with him.
“Easy Harry.” Bill said, and Harry looked up to find there were actually flower petals. He had conjured them without thinking.
When Draco expressed a love of French food, Flur pardoned herself and Bill to do some shopping to cook up one of her favorite dishes that she wanted Draco to try. Draco was still in the blue uniform, though it looked nothing like a uniform.At least, not when compared to the Hogwarts robes. And Harry was having trouble keeping his hands to himself, instead bouncing his leg as they sat on the love seat, by a warm crackling fire.
“So, did you have a good chat?” Harry asked, not long after Bill and Flur were off. They Promised to be back within the hour.
“Fairly nice, yes. Did you have a good gawk?”
“Guilty.” Harry said, his hands raised in admission.
“It’s no worry. I know she’s part Vila. She said she’s been having trouble with her glamor lately. Something about hormones. You were just caught in the blast.”
Wait…Did he think?
“It wasn’t her I was gawking at.” Harry said, leaning forward and grasping Draco’s hand. His fingers were long and thin, and a bit cold.
“Oh please,” Draco rolled his eyes so hard his whole head moved with the motion. But didn’t pull his hand away. “It’s not as if you’ve ever looked at me that way.”
Not that Draco was aware. But Harry would rather keep that to himself.
“Maybe I’m seeing you in a new light?” He said smiling, he let his thumb stroke the soft skin atop Draco’s hand. Draco crossed his legs, and arms as much as he could, guarding himself against Harry, but he still didn’t withdraw his hand.
“Liar.” Draco mumbled into his other hand. Harry used his left to pull Draco’s gase back to him by the chin, before showing the scar that was still there. “I must not tell lies.”
Draco shoved him lightly with his shoulder. “You can be honest with me Harry. It’s magic. It's unfair for me to expect you to be able to-.”
Harry kissed the top of Draco’s hand.
“Bonjour, je m'appelle Harry..”
“What?”
“Sais-tu quelle heure il est?”
“Heure?”
Yessss there was that French. Harry kissed the hand again, his eyes locked on to Draco’s. He looked absolutely baffled. Harry noticed the sleeve on Draco’s robes was rather loose. Good.
“J'aime manger du fromage et du poisson.”
Draco laughed.
“What on earth-”
Harry started kissing a trail up the arm, still clasping the hand in his own his other arm moved to uncover the pale skin. New path for his lips to tread.
“Parles-tu français?” H Harry asked, and understanding lit in Draco’s eyes.
“Oui monsieur, je parle français.”
Harry groaned. And fiercely kept kissing until the sleeve would not allow him, then he skipped strength to Draco’s neck, unfastening a button to have access to more.
Draco kept speaking, and he could have been talking about the weather for all that Harry cared, the sound of it drove Harry insane. Soon, Draco grew impatient and pulled Harry’s face to his own. Heat filled him, flush from his head pouring down into his gut and spreading out as tingles to every limb, finger and toe tip. He groaned again and Draco matched it, shifting the both of them so that Harry was situated on top of Draco. They broke away gasping.
“Seriously? French?” Draco chided breathlessly.
“Seriously. Please use this knowledge with care. I can’t be responsible for my actions.”
Draco got a devilish grin and quirked up an eye.
“That’s an awful lot of power you're handing me mon amour.”
Harry pretended he didn’t know what that meant, he had heard Flur say it enough, he was betting Draco had used it assuming Harry wouldn’t know. He dove into the crook of Draco’s neck and started sucking and biting to hide how hot his face was getting.
Draco was gasping and grinding beneath him.
“Mon amour, nous devrions arrêter.”
The French drove Harry to hastily deal with the buttons on Draco’s rob, Draco’s hands came up to stop him.
“We should stop. Bill and Flur will be back soon.”
Harry pouted. That was the only word for it. Draco laughed and kissed his pouting lips before pushing Harry off and fixing his robes. He saw Draco pull out his wand and wave it through his hair and it took its usual well groomed look. So that’s how he did it while keeping it so soft.
“You uh… Might want to visit the lou.” Draco said, pointing at Harry’s trousers just below the belt, an obvious tent had grown. Bolux.
“This is your fault.” Harry hissed.
“Alors tu as dit.” Draco smirked. And Harry grunted, kissing Draco hard on the mouth, making extra sure to mess up his hair again before stomping off to the bathroom to try and calm down. Though it might be faster to take a dip in the winter sea crashing outside.
........................
When Flur and Bill got back, Draco set to helping Flur, leaving Bill and Harry in the living room.
“She doesn’t trust me in there.” Bill laughed. Settling into a chair in a pose that reminded him of Arthur. All he needed was a newspaper and a pipe.
“I don’t trust me around him.” Harry said, still disgruntled about earlier, but it was probably for the better. It was probably rude to make out at someone else's house. Bill’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he then smiled in understanding.Bill really was like having a big brother of his own. Ron was great but Bill was at least mature enough to not make fun of Harry as he enjoyed his honeymoon stage of being with Draco Malfoy.
“So, Harry, you said you weren’t sure about jobs?”
Harry nodded, grateful for the change in topic.
“I can’t really ask Ron or Hermione. Ron is still going through Auror training, but he keeps talking about George, I think he wants to work at the shop.” Bill nodded, the whole family had been worried about Fred, he didn’t open up to many of them. “And Hermonie… has too many answers. She could talk your ear off and it would slowly shift into her own choices and research she’s done.”
“Well, what did you want to do, back in 5th year?”
“I wanted to be an auror. And I think I’ll still go through and get the required NEWT’s for it. But I feel like I've had enough excitement for one lifetime.”
Bill laughed. “Well, You’ve already got your chocolate frog cards. Some of my mates from school, that was their only goal. Do you enjoy defence?”
“A bit more than my other classes, sure. Maybe because it comes easier to me?”
Bill nodded. “‘Easy’ works. Do what you're good at. But sometimes we’re good at it because we enjoy it. But you want a safer life. Mom will thank you for that.”
They both laughed.
“I’ve thought about becoming a healer. But I need arithmancy and ancient ruins. I've heard the course study is hard too. But I like the idea of helping.”
Bill nodded. “Nothing comes to mind to be honest. Nothing at the moment anyway. I’ll keep a thought on it. For now just focus on your studies. I didn’t pick curse breaking until seventh year, and you’ve had plenty of… distractions.”
For a second, Harry thought Bill was talking about Voldemort. But Bill glanced over his shoulder to see Draco, back in his usual clothing but now with a tan apron, watching as Flur walked him through the steps.
“Sorry I can’t be much help. You’ve got gold to wait, and you can always travel a bit before you settle into a job. That's pretty traditional for Wizards anyway. Don’t feel like you have to pick so quickly.”
Solid advice from a big brother who has probably given this talk more than once. Harry smiled and thanked Bill. He then excused himself for a walk.
The air coming off the sea was unusually harsh. It whipped at his hair making it hard to see Dobby’s grave. It had been decorated with rocks. People had heard of Dobby’s sacrifice and sent painted charmed rocks. Most were decorated with socks which warmed Harry against the cold wind.
“Harry!” a voice called out. “Dinner is ready. What are you doing out here?" It was Draco. He was shouting over the waves as he climbed the sand dunes to reach the site where he had buried dobby. Draco froze as he looked down at the grave.
“Dobby.”
Draco’s voice was soft, and sad.
“How did you know him?” Harry knew how they knew each other, but he was curious as to how Draco saw Dobby. In the manor he could imagen Dobby amongst plenty of obedient house elves. Did he stand out?
“Honestly?” Draco asked, and Harry nodded. “A footstool for my father. He hated Dobby. I think they were around the same age. Mother said once, after a bit too much wine, that father had been especially cruel to Dobby to be able to make a house elf that wanted freedom. He represents our failings.”
“Failings?”
“As caretakers. As wizards. As decent humans.”
Harry smiled. “Dobby wouldn’t see it that way. And I don’t think your family broke him. I think he just found himself. He was happy being free.” He still is free. Harry thought. He could tell Draco was uncomfortable, the cold or the subject matter he didn’t know which. But he wrapped an arm around Draco and they moved back towards the cottage.
That night as they flew back to the house of Black, Harry had to use a sticking charm to make sure Draco didn’t let go as he nodded off.
Draco woke just as Harry was carrying him up to Grimal place, which was good because Harry wasn’t sure which bed to lay the man down in. Harry was bias towards his own. Thankfully Draco agreed and the both of them crawled into Harry’s bed, warmed up and just shoes chucked off, they snuggled up to get warm, enjoying the silence. Harry felt a calm settle over him, his arm wrapped around Draco so that a hand could rest on the others heart and feel the quiet rhythm.
“How did you know Dobby?” Draco asked into the silence.
“You didn’t read the book?” Harry chuckled. That book about him had been butchered and rushed to print. Hannah and her sister April who were able to sense lies, had a field day marking it up.
“How embarrassing. Like I could be any more obvious of my infatuation by reading a book about you.”
“Infatuation?” Harry leaned up slightly to look at Draco who shot him a glare back.
“Mutual obsession.” Draco corrected. And Harry laughed, falling back onto his pillow.
“Second year.” Harry answered, when Draco made a hum of confusion, Harry continued.
It had never occurred to him how little people knew outside of the Order, outside of Ron and Hermionie. How many people had relied on rumors. Draco was a very good listener. The perfect audience, he only interrupted with a quick gasp or “no” mostly hearing about Dobby’s attempts to send Harry home. When Harry goes to the bit about suspecting Draco, thats were things got interesting.
“Not shocking. I kind of wanted people to think it was me.” Draco said, a bit quiet, embarrassed for how that probably sounded. But Harry understood. Draco was just a kid then. Much like Harry’s father, Draco had been given space and time to grow and change.
“It's fine, we ruled you out.”
“How?” Draco asked innocently.
“...... So then-”
“Harry? How did you rule me out? Don't tell me Granger poured through my family history trying to find the link, my family has already tried.” Draco’s tone was light and joking.
Harry mumbled an answer.
“What?”
“Polyjuice potion.” Harry said, making a deliberate turn of his head away from Draco.
Silence on the other side of the bed met him.
“Where on earth did you get Polyjuice potion in your second year?”
“Hermionie.” Harry answered quickly.
“She actually made… never mind. I can’t wrap my head around a second year student making a fully brewed and working Pollyjuice potion. But when-”
Harry wanted to move away from Draco to hide from any wrath that might come, but the man next to him was so warm, and Harry was pretty sure Creature was purposefully keeping his room extra cold while he was out.
“Crap and Goyal. You-... and what… Weasley?” Damn that smart brain of his. Draco sat up and Harry mourned the warmth as it leached into the air. He watched Draco’s back, his silhouette lit by the fire crackling in the bedroom.
“Are you telling me,” Draco started. “That you three, broke into the restricted section, made a NEWT level potion, changed into Crab and Goyal, broke into the Slytherin common room-”
“You lead us there actually. And we didn’t steal the potion book either, we got permission.”
“From who?!” Draco said, voice slightly raised, he didn’t seem angry with Harry, but he seemed incredulous at the very least. “Who would be so DAFT as to allow that powerhouse of a muggle born access-” Draco interrupted himself. “Lockheart.”
“Lockheart.” Harry confirmed.
Draco heaved a sigh and turned back to cuddle into Harry’s side, he made sure he was tucked back under his arm, resting slightly on Harry’s shoulder and chest. His sharp pale finger prodded at Harry in the cheek.
“You.” He said accusatory. “You are going to tell me everything. No more rumors or crap books that write you as some sort of sad sap.”
“I thought you didn’t read that?” Draco ignored him.
“You are going to give me every detail. From the start!” And to drive down his point, he wiggled, snuggling in closer.
“What… tonight?”
“You’ve got plans?”
Sleep? But Harry didn’t say that. Truth was it might be nice to talk about what he went through to someone that wasn’t holding a quill.
“Fine. So It was Dudley’s Birthday…”