Have you not realised?

The group lounged around the room, drinks in hand and half empty platters of nibbles strewn over the table.

‘What about you, Harry? What’s your type?’

Harry shrugged. ‘My type? Anyone who’d take me, honestly.’

The group burst out laughing, delighted by the joke.

Neville caught the brief flash of hurt on Harry’s face, before it was quickly replaced with a wry smile.

‘You certainly are the cause of more than a bit of drama, Potter!’ chuckled Blaise Zabini, shaking his head.

‘A bit of drama?! More like disaster after disaster!’ called Ginny Weasley.

The group laughed again.

‘Well, I think you’re a catch, mate.’ said Neville, giving Harry’s shoulder a nudge with his own. The grateful look and the slight hint of desperation in Harry’s eyes made Neville’s heart clench.

‘Oh, I’m not denying you’re a good-looking guy, Potter.’ drawled Blaise, dragging his eyes over Harry and making him blush furiously. Fortunately, they were distracted by Ron knocking over a bottle of firewhiskey as he stretched his legs out, and the conversation quickly moved on.

Standing outside at the end of the night, saying goodbyes and watching as everyone apparated away, Neville hung back. Harry smiled and accepted hugs and made plans to catch up with everyone, but when he thought the group had gone, Neville saw the way he drooped, the way weariness and something heavy seemed to settle on his shoulders.  

When Harry turned to see Neville still standing there, his face ran through a series of emotions, quick as a flash. Neville thought he could see fear and embarrassment and hope and longing, before Harry schooled his face expertly into a casual smile.

‘Hey Nev, everything alright?’ he asked.

Neville took a step closer. He watched Harry’s eyes widen slightly, watched his mask crack just a fraction, that hope and longing and fear close to the surface again. He felt a sense of trepidation, not wanting to give Harry the wrong idea.

‘Did you know we are godbrothers, Harry? My mum is your godmother, and your mum is mine.’ Neville asked, watching Harry with carefully concealed intensity.

Harry’s eyes widened further. ‘Oh?’

‘I always wanted a brother.’

‘Oh. Um.’ Harry’s eyes dropped to the ground. ‘What- what does this mean, then? Do… do you want… how does it work?’

‘Well, I’ve never had a brother before, and neither have you, so I suppose it works however we want it to.’ Neville smiled. ‘We’re family, I guess. Love and hugs and protection and someone to turn to when things are hard.’ Neville kept his voice light, not wanting to overwhelm Harry, but he saw the tears glimmering anyway.

‘You- you want that? With me?’ Harry asked uncertainly.

Neville stepped right up close, holding his arms out and waiting, patient.

Harry tensed his shoulders, shuffled his feet, then just watched warily for a long second, before hesitantly moving closer, his own arms held just wide enough to be out of the way. When he was less than a foot away, Neville gently wrapped his arms around Harry’s back and pulled him close, and Harry melted against him.

‘I do want that with you. Is that something you want too?’

‘Please,’ Harry mumbled into Neville’s shoulder. ‘Please, I want that!’

Harry’s breath hitched unevenly, and Neville wrapped him a little tighter, smiling sadly as Harry melted further, until Neville was nearly holding him up. He didn’t mind.

He knew people had a tendency to look at Harry and see The Boy Who Lived, even now, years after the war. Even his friends, new and old. They had seen him at his strongest, most courageous and powerful and determined.

But now the war was over, and Neville thought Harry was lost. He had a job, sure, and a house, and a decent friend group. But Neville wondered privately if maybe Harry hadn’t planned on living through the war. If he had thought he was going to die and hadn’t made any plans for being an adult, and now found himself in an entirely unexpected future.

When Harry began to pull back, Neville let him go easily, but smiled gently at him. ‘I have to go, Harry, I have work in the morning. But if you need anything, let me know, yeah?’

Harry nodded, eyes on the ground, embarrassed at his moment of weakness.

‘Goodnight, brother.’ Neville said, and Harry jerked his head up in surprise. He gave a tentative, hopeful smile, and said very quietly, ‘goodnight, brother’, as Neville apparated away.

***

Draco had always had some sort of interest in Harry Potter. Even in school, when he considered him a rival, there was some kind of magnetic pull, drawing him close to Harry at every turn.

Now, years after school, after the war and the trials and the apologies and reparations – that draw, that pull was still present. Draco knew it was more than he deserved to even be able to count himself as a friend among their group, but he wouldn’t dare bring that up lest anyone else realise he shouldn’t be there.

Ron and Hermione had followed Harry into battle more times than Draco could count. Ginny had been in a relationship with Harry that had ended amicably, and Harry had been practically adopted by the Weasleys. Pansy and Blaise were more of a surprise, but Draco supposed working in close proximity in the Ministry had led to them becoming friends with Hermoine, and then Ron, and then becoming a regular part of the group. Neville had lived alongside Harry and Ron throughout Hogwarts, he wasn’t much of a surprise addition. Luna seemed to have wormed her way firmly into everyone’s hearts, not to mention she and Neville were an item. There were a few extras around occasionally – other Weasleys, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas when they were in town, a few other random people. Draco knew he didn’t fit nearly as neatly into the group as the others, but even still, he felt comfortable around them, didn’t feel like they excluded him or questioned his presence. He felt they were making him into a better version of himself – less snobby, less judgemental, more compassionate and considerate and aware of other people’s lives and struggles.

But lately, the only thing he could focus on was Harry’s comment from that night. Anyone who’d take me. Draco would take him. In a heartbeat. But did he actually mean it, or was it just another self-deprecating joke? He made a lot of those. Played down his fame, his fortune, his feats. Anyone would practically throw themselves at his feet, so of course he’d take anyone who wanted him!

But… Draco didn’t think anyone had actually asked Harry out in the time that he’d been part of the group. Maybe Harry just didn’t bring it up, but people occasionally asked him if he was seeing anyone, if he’d been on any dates, and he always said he had nothing going on.

Maybe if Draco asked him out, he might say yes? It might make things awkward in the group, but Draco couldn’t resist the draw.

He was going to ask Harry Potter on a date.

***

Draco had been surprised when Harry said yes without hesitation. Even more surprised when Harry immediately blushed and avoided his eye. And more surprised again when Neville Longbottom pulled him aside for a chat.

‘If you hurt him, Draco, I will make you regret it. Do you understand? Harry is not some conquest, or a fling. If you want to date him, you better intend for it to go somewhere, or you better let him down real easy now, before you cause some damage.’

Draco stared at Neville with frank confusion and more than a bit of wariness. Neville hadn’t looked so intense since he’d killed Nagini. He looked like he might like to do the same to Draco. ‘I won’t hurt him.’ Draco said insistently. ‘I’ve… I’ve actually liked him for quite a while. I hope it does go somewhere, I’m not after a casual fling.’

Neville held his gaze, searching. Finally, he relented, backing down. ‘I will hurt you if you hurt him, Draco. He’s not like other people. He carries his hurts deeply. Watch yourself.’

Draco had been unnerved by Neville’s threat, but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind. He wasn’t intending to hurt Harry or use him for a bit of quick fun. He actually did hope things went well, that they would end up in a committed relationship.

He arranged dinner at his favourite restaurant for their first date, made sure to compliment Harry’s attire and enjoyed his blush, asked about his job at the bookstore, and was generally charming and smooth.

One date turned into two, then three, then steady dating, until Draco felt like he had a place in Harry’s life beyond friendship. He couldn’t have been happier.

***

Harry,

So sorry, got caught up at work, can’t make it tonight. The reservation is still booked if you want to go.

See you soon,

Draco

Harry stared at the scrap of parchment, feeling his hopes dwindle. He knew Draco had a busy and sometimes stressful job. The law department in the Ministry was still years away from catching up after the damage done during the war. Harry knew Draco’s job was important. He didn’t resent it.

He still felt guilty sometimes about his own job, stacking shelves and organising displays and ringing up orders. He hadn’t expected to live through the war, so suddenly finding himself on the other side of adulthood had left him lost and confused. He had taken the bookstore job because he had happened to walk past when the ad went up in the window, and the owners had been thrilled that THE Harry Potter had wanted to work for them, hiring him on the spot.

He knew he should be doing something more, something meaningful and important, but he just… couldn’t. He was just tired. Exhausted. Like he had used up every bit of his life’s energy and willpower during his childhood and the war, and now there wasn’t enough left for the rest of his life. He knew it was wrong for him to just drift along like this, but he couldn’t make himself do something different.

His bookstore job gave him something to do each day. It didn’t take too much effort or concentration, he didn’t leave at the end of the day drained and empty. Not since the owners had agreed it was better for him to avoid the till, at least. It had only been one shift – half a shift, really, but it had been a disaster.

There were two tills in the store, but everyone that came in had insisted on going to Harry’s till, and insisted on speaking to him at length about the war. About what they had done, who they had lost, rumours they had heard about Harry, things they had seen, on and on and on, until Harry wanted to scream or run away. He was so grateful when Mr Jones had stepped in and sent him for his lunch break, then snuck back to tell him to stay out the back and unpack boxes for the rest of his shift. Now he stacked shelves and tidied and packed owl orders and Hogwarts bundles. He could mostly avoid the public, keeping his head down and hair covering his forehead, kept stacks of books in his arms to discourage hugs and handshakes, and puttered around the store until closing time. He knew he ought to be doing something important, but he couldn’t help but be content at his job.

So he couldn’t resent Draco for doing what he couldn’t – having a meaningful career. Even if it meant he couldn’t make it to their date. Harry climbed the stairs slowly, entering his room and taking off his nice robes, hanging them neatly in the cupboard. He made sure his shoes were still clean and polished, coiled his belt, unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his tie enough to slip over his head. He didn’t know how to tie it still – Neville had tied it for him a while ago. 

He pulled out a set of oversized, ragged pyjamas, tugged on some thick socks, and trudged back downstairs to make a cup of tea and read a book. There was no way he was going to a restaurant alone. Draco had such elegant taste, and Harry always felt out of place at such fine places. But Draco knew about good food, he knew which places were best to eat at or drink at. Harry had never been to a restaurant until he’d left Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione had taken him out for his 18^th birthday, but it wasn’t as fancy as the places Draco liked. He’d never complain though – he didn’t want to make it so obvious to Draco that he was uncultured and clueless. Draco would drop him like a dirty sock if he knew that Harry wouldn’t turn his nose up at eating from a bin if he had to. He’d done it before – plenty of times, in fact, as a kid.

Harry brewed his tea, watching the steam coil up, wondering if Draco might be free for a date some other time this week instead. He wouldn’t ask though, he’d wait for Draco to let him know. He didn’t want to smother Draco, irritate him into giving up on Harry. He’d just take whatever Draco offered. He couldn’t afford to be picky.

***

‘I’m going to pop over to Honeydukes, anything you want, Harry?’ called Draco, tugging on his coat.

It wasn’t anything official, but Draco sort of lived with Harry now. They hadn’t really talked about it, it just sort of… happened. Draco had stayed over one night, too tired to apparate all the way to Wiltshire, so he had crashed at Harry’s. Harry slept on the couch when Draco came over. He knew couples should probably be sharing a bed, but Harry just couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. He was terrified that when Draco realised Harry had absolutely no experience in the bedroom, he’d be so disappointed he’d leave and never come back. Harry always begged off, saying Draco needed a good night’s sleep, he didn’t need Harry’s snoring or kicking in the night. Harry didn’t think he snored or kicked, but he thought a little white lie was better than the truth – he had dreadful nightmares, and he was terrified of trying anything… intimate.

‘Um, maybe a block of that dark chocolate, if they have it? It’s fine if they don’t, anything is fine.’ Harry called back. He listened for the pop of Draco leaving, then turned back to washing the dishes. He knew Draco preferred to use a spell, but there was something meditative about dong it by hand. He often waited until Draco wasn’t home before he washed them, not wanting Draco to think he was too dumb to know the spell, or that he was weird for not wanting to use magic.

When Draco returned, he called out to find Harry, who was in the sitting room, curled up with tea and a book.

‘Thought I’d find you here,’ Draco smirked, ‘bookworm. I got some caramel chocolate instead, hope that’s alright.’

Harry nodded and smiled. He felt his stomach lurch at the thought that maybe Draco didn’t like that Harry read so much. But he didn’t sound angry… but he did mock Harry… Harry didn’t know how to take the comment. He hesitantly turned back to his book, not really reading it as he waited for Draco’s reaction. But Draco just kicked off his shoes and hung his coat and took the chocolate into the kitchen.

‘The kettle’s just boiled, I can make you a cup of tea?’ called Harry.

‘No problem, I’ll do it!’ Draco called back. Harry was worried he’d be annoyed that Harry hadn’t made him a cup – but he hadn’t known how long Draco would be, and he knew Draco hated over brewed tea. When he came back in carrying a mug, Harry watched his face carefully. He didn’t seem annoyed. Draco picked out his own book and settled on the couch, and Harry slowly relaxed.

***

Harry pushed the door open awkwardly, arms laden with bags of groceries. As he stepped inside, he tripped over something in the doorway, and the groceries went flying as he fell. The loud thumping and crashing and the accidental curse from Harry’s lips drew Draco from the sitting room, and he found Harry sprawled in the entryway, food everywhere.

‘What happened?!’ Draco cried, tugging Harry to his feet and waving his wand to scoop up the food and send it into the kitchen.

‘I tripped.’ mumbled Harry, ears burning. There was no way Harry was going to say it was over Draco’s boots again, from where he always left them in the middle of the doormat rather than neatly to the side, where Harry always moved them.

He couldn’t quite hold back his irritation though, as he swept Draco’s boots out of the way with his shoe, knocking them into the wall. He usually would pick them up and move them properly, but he was so angry that he didn’t bother this time. This wasn’t the first time he’d tripped on Draco’s shoes, and he had actually asked him to not leave them there. But if he asked again, he was worried Draco might take it as nagging and get mad at him. Misplaced boots were hardly something to lose him over.

***

Harry sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window and watching the sky grow dark.

Draco should have been home over an hour ago. He hadn’t sent a note. Harry knew he was probably just working late again, but a part of him was panicking, worrying that something had happened. That Draco had been in an accident or something, that he was in St Mungo’s alone and dying, while Harry was at the dinner table, mad that he wasn’t there.

He stood abruptly and paced back and forth, trying to work out what to do. He didn’t want to bother Draco if he was busy. He could Floo call St Mungo’s, maybe. He knew Hannah Abbott worked there. Maybe he could Floo call her and just check that Draco wasn’t there.

When he pulled his head back out of the fire, he heaved a sigh. Draco wasn’t in hospital, at least, but Harry still hadn’t heard from him. He paced a while longer, before relenting. He was just too worried. He summoned his Patronus, concentrating on the memory of Neville telling him he wanted him as a brother. His Patronus glowed brightly, soothing some of the fear burning in his belly. He looked into the stag’s eyes, the stag looking back into his. After a long minute, the panic having receded a bit, Harry realised he could just Floo Cassie, the law department secretary. If there were still people working, Cassie would most likely be there.

He smiled at his Patronus, then let his wand hand drop, letting his Patronus fade. He knelt in the fireplace again and called for Cassie. He was relieved to hear that Draco was there, along with half the department. Apparently, they had made a breakthrough on a case and were all staying late. Harry thanked her and pulled his head out of the fireplace.

He stood slowly, brushing soot from his knees. In the kitchen, he began to pack away the food he had prepared. He and Draco had been together for six months. Well, Harry wasn’t sure when exactly they got together – he wasn’t sure what counted. But it had been six months since Draco first asked him out. He knew how much Draco liked curry, having been introduced along with the rest of their friends, after Seamus and Dean insisted everyone go out for dinner at their favourite Indian place in the city.

He had made three separate curries from scratch, made roti from scratch, cooked rice and pappadums and made mango lassi. He packed it all away methodically, placing each container into the chilled cupboard that acted as a fridge. He washed the dishes by hand, put everything away, and tidied up around the house. It was nearing midnight and Draco still wasn’t home.

Heart heavy, Harry went to bed.

He woke up the next morning to find Draco on the couch. He hadn’t heard him come in, which was surprising as he was a light sleeper.

He made his way quietly into the kitchen and boiled the kettle. He could hear Draco yawning from the sitting room, then the sound of his feet padding through to the kitchen. He stopped right behind Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry’s chest and leaning heavily against him. Harry’s stomach swooped. He still wasn’t quite used to Draco’s casual affection, didn’t know how to take it sometimes. He held still, then busied himself with preparing the tea.

Draco shuffled over to the cooling cupboard. ‘Mmrgh, you made curry without me?’ he whined, turning pitiful eyes on Harry.

‘Sorry,’ Harry apologised, ‘there’s plenty of leftovers though.’

‘But it’s never quite as good as when it’s fresh.’ Draco insisted. He pulled out some roti and nibbled at it. ‘Better when it’s hot.’

‘I can heat some up, if you want?’ asked Harry.

‘Nah, it’s fine. I’d better get to work. We had a bit of a breakthrough last night, that’s why I was late.’

‘Yeah, I called Cassie to see if you were still there.’ Harry said quietly.

‘Oh shit! I completely forgot to tell you!’ cried Draco.

‘It’s fine,’ said Harry. ‘I know how busy you can get, and I know how important your job is. I can make curry again. Will you be home tonight?’

‘Oh, but there’s so much curry already, it seems a waste!’

‘I can give it to Ron and Hermione, I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. Will you be home?’

‘Yeah, I’ll make sure.’ Draco said confidently.

Harry was sitting at the table again, staring at the already dark sky. At least this time Draco had remembered to let him know he wouldn’t be home. With a sigh, Harry packed up all the curries, the roti and rice and lassi and pappadums, placing them neatly in the cooling cupboard. He hadn’t eaten any. He wasn’t hungry. He made tea and settled himself in the sitting room with another book.

When it got late, he headed upstairs, changed into pyjamas, and crawled into bed. Draco still wasn’t home.

Harry wondered if this was the start of Draco leaving him.

Maybe this was how it began. Draco spending more and more time away. Not coming home for dinner, not sharing meals, not letting him know. Maybe there was someone else. Someone he worked with, someone with an important job. Someone smart and funny and clever. Someone normal.

He rolled to his side, forcibly shoving those thoughts away. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

He awoke not long after he had fallen asleep, he thought.

Draco was home.

Draco was climbing into his bed.

Harry froze, back to Draco, no idea what to do. But Draco just wriggled around, tugging the blankets higher, and went to sleep.

Harry lay awake, wondering whether it was too rude for him to get out of bed and go to the couch. Whether Draco would be offended.

After several tense hours, Harry gave up. He slipped from the bed, tip toeing to the door, and crept downstairs. He headed for the kitchen, intending to make a cup of tea. If Draco woke up, Harry could just say he couldn’t sleep and needed a cuppa.

He sat in the kitchen, watching the sunrise, sipping slowly.

A creak on the stairs dragged him from his drifting thoughts, and he stood up. Draco would want some tea after such a late night. He pulled out a mug and a teabag, fussing around, but arms wrapping around his chest made him stop.

Draco’s nose was pressed into Harry’s neck, and his lips were on Harry’s shoulder. His hands wandered over Harry’s skin, warm and soft.

Harry’s heart raced. He stood stock still.

Draco gently turned him around, and began to press little kisses along Harry’s neck and collarbone. ‘I woke up and you weren’t there.’ He murmured, and Harry scrambled to work out if it was an accusation.

‘Couldn’t sleep.’ He mumbled, body tense as a bowstring. Draco’s hands wandered over Harry’s sides, and Harry fought the urge to pull away. Draco was slowly but surely kissing his way up Harry’s neck, heading for his face. His mouth. Harry felt fear surging in his gut.

He didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t done this sort of thing before. Harry knew Draco was being patient with him, knew it was weird and embarrassing and broken and stupid, but… the idea of being so open and vulnerable with someone… he didn’t think he could do it. All Draco wanted right now was a kiss, but it wouldn’t end there. Harry’s heart raced faster and faster, he was sure Draco must have been able to hear it.

Draco had reached his jaw, pressing kisses along it, and Harry was fighting down his panic.

The sound of a heavy knock at the door broke Draco’s concentration, and Harry sucked in a ragged breath.

‘We’ll have to come back to this later,’ purred Draco, before stepping back and going to answer the door.

Harry turned back to the tea, tears prickling in his eyes. Fuck! He didn’t know how to do any of this. He was completely clueless. Lost. Again.

***

‘It’s such a nice day outside! We should go and do something. Let’s go get ice cream!’ Draco said brightly.

Harry nodded and smiled back. He wasn’t sure why Draco was still with him, but he wasn’t going to complain. Things weren’t perfect, but at least Draco seemed to want to be around him.

His friends had all been pretty busy lately. He knew they weren’t avoiding him or anything, that’s just how life was sometimes. Even Neville hadn’t been around much, busy with his magical plant nursery. Draco only had a day off because they had all been working so hard in his department, that their supervisor had insisted they take a day to relax and get outside while the weather was so fine.

The pair apparated to Diagon Alley, wandering down the bustling street towards Fortescue’s. The shop had closed during the war, and Florean hadn’t survived. His grandson Finnean had revived the business a couple of years ago, and it was thriving again.

Harry stepped inside the store, thankfully not too busy this time of morning. By the afternoon, he knew it would be packed. Harry stepped up close to the display, Draco beside him.

Harry picked out a dark chocolate and mint, and at Draco’s insistence that he have a second scoop, he pointed at vanilla. He hadn’t really tried many flavours – it all seemed so overwhelming. He tried not to react to Draco’s jibe about a ‘boring’ flavour, watching quietly as Draco picked out boysenberry, pistachio, and chocolate ganache. Harry’s teeth hurt at the thought of so much sweetness.

He blushed as Draco insisted on paying, and followed him to sit at a table outside.

‘Seeing as you picked vanilla, clearly you need an ice-cream education, Harry Potter. Taste this.’ Draco held his ice-cream out for Harry to lick.

‘Oh no, it’s alright!’ stumbled Harry, blushing again.

Draco picked up a little spoon from the table setting. He dug a bite out of the boysenberry, holding it out for Harry. At his insistent look, Harry hesitantly opened his mouth and let Draco feed him a bite. He felt a bit like a child, but the boysenberry was quite good, he decided.

Draco scooped the chocolate ganache next, the same insistent glare as he fed Harry a bite. It was far too rich for Harry’s taste, but he smiled awkwardly anyway.

When Draco scooped the pistachio, Harry balked. ‘Um, no, it’s alright, I’m aller-‘

‘Come on!’ Draco insisted. ‘It’s delicious! Just one bite, try it!’

Harry tried to shake his head, but Draco waved the spoon closer. ‘Try it Harry, come on!’ he wheedled.

Harry swallowed nervously. It had been quite a long time since he’d eaten nuts as a child – the only time Aunt Petunia had ever taken him to hospital. He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it, but as he glanced back up to Draco’s face, he steeled himself.

It had been ages ago. Maybe it had been a one-off. Maybe it would be fine. He swallowed again, licked his lips, and let Draco feed him pistachio ice-cream.

It tasted strange, but he didn’t dwell. He swallowed it down quickly, giving Draco another awkward smile.

Draco looked pleased, turning his attention back to his own ice-cream, licking up the drips. He looked back to Harry after a minute, asking, ‘Which was your favour- Harry? Harry, are you alright?!’

Harry could feel his throat tightening. His breath grew shallow, wheezing harshly from his chest. His tongue felt like it didn’t fit in his mouth anymore. His heart thumped hard, panic swamping him. He clutched at his too-tight throat, gasping for air.

Draco was staring, eyes wide, frozen as ice-cream melted over his fingers. A shout from another customer broke him from his stare, and he grabbed Harry’s wrist hard enough to bruise, apparating them away.

St Mungo’s was fortunately not very busy when Draco fell to the floor in the lobby, hand clamped on Harry’s wrist.

‘HELP!’ he screamed, medi-wix rushing towards them. ‘He can’t breathe! Help him! what’s happening?!’

Draco fought against the hands dragging him back, as Harry was lifted and rushed to a bed.

‘HARRY! Where are they taking him?! Harry!’ he shouted, panicking.

‘Settle down, sir! They’re helping him, he’ll be alright. Take a breath, sir, come with me.’ A burly medi-wix lead him down the hallway Harry had gone down, and into a little side room that overlooked where Harry was.

A small crowd of people were around Harry, lying pale and limp on the bed. His lips were tinged blue. Draco watched on as the team of medi-wix cast diagnostics and spelled potions into his stomach, gesturing and conferring and looking down at Harry’s body, monitoring him closely.  

Draco gasped in relief when Harry’s lips returned to their normal pink, albeit paler than usual. He looked to be breathing normally again too. Draco slumped into a nearby chair, still watching Harry intently, but relieved beyond belief that he was still alive.  

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but movement in the corner of his eye made him turn, and suddenly, everyone was there. Ron and Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Blaise and Pansy, even Seamus and Dean. Draco wondered absently if Hannah Abbott had called them. He knew Harry had no family, really – maybe his friends had been called instead?

The sight of Neville Longbottom bursting into the main room and marching up to Harry’s head made him surge to his feet. What was going on?

Draco couldn’t quite hear what was being said through the window, but he saw the way Neville’s face crumpled in anguish, before hardening into anger.

‘Perhaps you ought to leave, Draco.’ Luna’s airy voice said from behind him. Draco whirled around.

‘Leave?! When he’s in there like that? How could I leave?!’ he cried, outraged.

‘Oh dear, it’s too late now anyway.’ said Luna quietly.

Draco turned back to look at Harry, confused, but his face met Neville’s fist with a sharp crack and a blinding flare of pain.

Another punch, and Draco was reeling. His hand flew to his face, gaping as he felt warm, tacky blood dripping from his cheek.

He looked up to see Ron, Seamus and Dean all fighting to hold Neville back.

‘I fucking warned you, Draco! I told you if you hurt him, I’d make you pay!’ shouted Neville.

‘What?! I didn’t do this! We were getting ice-cream and he just – he just stopped breathing!’ Draco cried, confused and afraid, both for himself and for Harry.

‘Because you made him eat fucking nuts!’ shouted Neville, eyes blazing.

‘What?! I don’t know what you’re talking about! I have no idea what happened!’

‘He’s allergic to nuts, and you made him eat pistachio ice-cream, you fucking piece of shit!’ Neville surged against the three men holding him back, making them scramble to hold him.

‘Wh – what?’ breathed Draco. ‘He’s… what?’

Neville relented slightly in the face of Draco’s confusion.

‘Allergic, Draco. He can’t eat certain things or his body reacts badly.’ said Hermione.

‘I know what a fucking allergy is, thank you!’ snapped Draco, eyes darting around the room. ‘I didn’t know he was allergic to nuts! Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he eat it? Did he not know?’

‘He ate it because you told him to!’ Neville struggled against his captors again, incensed. ‘Of course he knows, the only time he was ever taken to hospital as a child was because he ate nuts and had an allergic reaction! Of course he fucking knows, but you made him eat it.’

‘No I didn’t! I offered it to him, and he took it!’ protested Draco, then paused. ‘I mean, I did sort of insist… but he should have said no if he knew he couldn’t eat it!’

The others in the group shuffled awkwardly, nodding in hesitant agreement.

‘Fucking blind, the lot of you!’ snarled Neville, yanking himself free and taking a step back. ‘None of you have noticed? None of you have seen it?’ His fiery gaze flicked around the room, taking in the confused faces.

Neville ran a hand over his own face. ‘Harry never says no. Have you never noticed? He’ll go along with whatever people ask of him, he’ll never rock the boat or complain or fight back.’

‘That’s not true! What about Umbridge, or Voldemort, or Snape, or even Draco back in school?! Harry does stand up for himself, he does fight back! He’s one of the bravest people I know!’ snapped Hermione.

‘But those were all enemies,’ Ginny said slowly, sparing Draco an apologetic glance. ‘Not friends. When we broke up… when I broke up with him, he didn’t fight it. At all. I could tell he was sad, I could tell he didn’t want it, but he just accepted it. Just told me he was sorry he couldn’t be what I wanted.’

Neville gave her a nod. ‘Exactly. He will accept anything his friends offer, he won’t fight or demand more or get upset. He’ll just take it.’

‘No!’ said Ron a little desperately. ‘No, that’s not right. That can’t be right.’

Neville gave him a shrewd look. ‘Does anyone know Harry’s favourite colour?’

‘Red.’ said Ron.

‘Blue.’ said Hermione.

‘No, it’s purple. I told him I like purple and he… oh.’ Pansy trailed off.

Neville sighed. ‘Harry doesn’t have a favourite colour. He doesn’t have a favourite food, he doesn’t have a favourite shirt. He doesn’t have preferences for most things. Have none of you noticed?’

‘I just thought he was easy-going.’ mumbled Blaise.

‘He is. He’s so easy-going, he could have been friends with Voldemort, given half a chance. Harry has never learned to give himself any value, never learned to consider his own comfort or needs. Nobody wondered why he ran off into danger time and again throughout his life?’

‘He’s a Gryffindor.’ said Seamus slowly.

‘Would anyone else here challenge a basilisk? Would anyone else here even consider going one-on-one against the Darkest Lord in Britain in over four hundred years? Plenty of us are Gryffindors too!’

‘Oh my god.’ Breathed Hermione.

‘Fuck.’ muttered Ron.

‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it.’ murmured Dean.

Draco just stared at Harry, still unconscious and surrounded by medi-wix. Dozens of moments from their relationship whirled through his mind.

‘Neville,’ he croaked. ‘Can I talk to you?’

The rest of the group shuffled awkwardly out of the room and back to the waiting room.

Neville watched Draco closely, anger still simmering below the surface. His eyebrows raised in shock when Draco let out a sob.

Draco’s hand flew to his mouth, but he couldn’t hold back the next sob, or the next. His shoulders shook, face pale and eyes brimming with tears. ‘Fuck, Neville, I – ‘ he broke off, no idea what to say next.

‘You told me.’ Draco said after a moment of silence. He turned to face Neville, eyes wide and shocked. ‘You told me, but I didn’t hear it. You said he carries his hurts deeply. Is this what you meant?’

Neville considered him. ‘Part of it. More like, he was hurt and this is how it comes out.’

Draco nodded, looking back to Harry. ‘I have fucked up over and over again, Neville. How on earth could he want to be with me still?! I’d have ditched me a long time ago. I’ve been a terrible partner. I don’t even know how to fix it. Part of me thinks I should just break up with him so he can find someone better.’

Draco’s voice was hollow and flat. Neville gave him a sharp look.

‘Don’t be a coward. The only reason I let you ask him out was because I thought you had the potential to be good for him.’

‘Let me ask him out?’  

‘I have several plants that could easily be used to dispose of a body.’ Neville said simply, making Draco shiver in fear. ‘I was so disappointed every time Harry came to me. Disappointed in you. I kept waiting for you to see it. Maybe I should have stepped in earlier.’ Neville ran a rough hand over his face. ‘It’s too late now for what ifs. You know, so you have to do better.’

Before Draco could reply, a medi-wix stuck her head through the door. ‘We’ll be keeping him here overnight for monitoring. He’ll be asleep the whole time, the combination of potions we had to use can cause severe nausea, so it’s easier on him this way. I’m afraid we don’t allow visitors overnight in this part of the hospital. You can come back tomorrow morning after eight.’

She ducked back through the door, leaving Draco and Neville to watch Harry through the window a minute longer.

‘Why was she speaking to you, not me?’ Draco asked suddenly.

‘I’m his next of kin.’ Neville said simply. ‘I’m his godbrother. He has no other family.’

Draco felt his heart clench. ‘That’s why you talked to me right back at the start. I wondered why it wasn’t Ron, or even Hermione.’ Draco paused. ‘I’m glad he has you, Neville.’

Neville gave him a short nod, still focused on Harry through the window. ‘He’ll always have me.’  he said, so quietly Draco wondered if maybe it wasn’t meant for his ears.

***

Draco stepped through the door into Harry’s house, the familiar smell soothing something inside him. He stood in the entryway for a minute, before deciding to make a cup of tea.

Harry always offered him a cup of tea when he got home, no matter the time. He almost felt thirsty as soon as he walked inside, like he’d been conditioned to drink tea upon stepping into Harry’s house. Their house? Draco did live here, but he couldn’t actually remember having a conversation with Harry about moving in. He just sort of… did. He wondered if Harry was actually okay with him being there. Harry didn’t like to share a bed – he kept sleeping on the couch. He didn’t have a spare bed. Why didn’t Draco notice?!

He tried to concentrate on making his tea, but his thoughts keep drifting back to different memories, guilt curling in his gut. He sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around his mug, and took a deep breath. If he kept trying to stuff down the memories, he’d start damaging his Occlumency barriers. Things had to be addressed, they couldn’t just be stuffed down and perpetually ignored. This was probably the best time for it anyway, while Harry was in hospital and Draco couldn’t be there.

He took a sip of his tea, closed his eyes, and let himself sink down into his mind.

‘I’m going to pop over to Honeydukes, want anything?’

‘Maybe some dark chocolate, if they have any? It’s fine if they don’t, anything is fine!’

Draco let lingered over the memory, noting Harry’s uncertainty, his lack of assertion. He wanted dark chocolate. Draco bought caramel chocolate. Harry had told Draco something he wanted, and Draco had ignored it.

He wondered how hard it had been for Harry to say what he wanted.

Maybe the harder part was not reacting when Draco brought home the wrong thing. Pretending he appreciated it.

He let his mind go again, flashes of a dozen missed dinners burning him with shame and guilt. One in particular stood out.

Harry cooked him an entire Indian spread. From scratch. Twice.

Both times, Draco got caught up at work. One of those times, he hadn’t even let Harry know he wasn’t coming home. Harry had called Cassie to ask where Draco was. Draco wondered how long Harry sat at the table waiting for him before he gave up and packed dinner away. How long before he called Cassie. How long before he gave up entirely and went to bed.

Oh gods. Bed.

Draco came home the second time and climbed into Harry’s bed while he was asleep.

Harry never shared a bed with him. Draco hadn’t wanted to push, and Harry’s excuses were always reasonable… but then Draco had just climbed in with him while he slept. He didn’t know now why he was surprised when he’d woken, and Harry wasn’t there. Who knows how long they lay there before Harry woke up. How Harry must have felt to wake up beside someone that wasn’t there when he went to sleep. Someone who hadn’t bothered to come home for dinner two nights in a row. Someone who climbed into his bed like they had a right to be there.

Draco gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid! First climbing uninvited into Harry’s bed while he was asleep, and then the next morning... Draco let the memory play in his head.

Walking up behind Harry and wrapping his arms around Harry’s chest. Breathing in his scent, pressing kisses along his skin. Turning Harry in his arms and kissing him again. Harry’s body, Harry’s warm skin under his hands, under his lips.

Harry’s stiff, rigid posture. Harry’s lack of reciprocation. Harry’s heartbeat thumping hard under Draco’s lips on his neck. It wasn’t lust, wasn’t excitement. It was fear.

Draco lurched from his chair, rushing for the bathroom. He emptied his stomach, curled over the toilet. Oh gods. How far would Harry have let him go? Draco retched again, knowing Harry wouldn’t have stopped him, probably. Harry would have let him do whatever he wanted, and Draco would have accepted the lack of refusal as acceptance. As permission.

He could – he could have –

Draco retched again and again, tears trickling down his cheeks. He scrunched his eyes shut, ignoring the burn of bile in his throat, ignoring the foul taste in his mouth, ignoring the chill of the tiles under his bare feet.

He breathed, slow and careful and deliberate.

After a long while, he slowly stood. He washed his hands and rinsed his mouth and calmly walked out and over to the Floo.

‘Neville Longbottom.’ He said clearly. And then waited.

He wasn’t surprised when Neville stepped through, even though it was the middle of the night by now.

‘Neville, I have fucked up beyond belief. As Harry’s family, it is right that you seek retribution. I submit myself.’ Draco dropped to his knees before Neville, head bowed, waiting.

‘What the fuck did you do.’ Neville’s voice was cold and flat.

‘I didn’t – I kissed him, against his will. I would have done more, and I would have taken his silence as acceptance.’

Neville paused, blinking. ‘You haven’t… you haven’t been to bed with him, though? Only wanted to?’

Draco nodded, eyes downcast.

Neville sighed, slumping down onto the couch. ‘Sit on the couch, Draco.’ He sighed again, gathering his thoughts. Draco moved hesitantly, sitting at the far end of the couch from Neville.

‘I don’t think you would have done it, Draco. I know you think you would have, but you’re not that ignorant or heartless. You would have noticed his reluctance, even if he didn’t say it outright. You’d have picked up on it. You might have gone further than he wanted, but you wouldn’t have – have raped him.’

Draco felt bile rising in his throat again, despite his empty stomach. He shook his head frantically. ‘You don’t know that, you can’t know that!’ he argued.

Neville reached out and laid a hand on Draco’s shoulder. ‘But I do know that. You think I’m not good at reading people, at understanding them? I’m the one who told you about Harry. I’m the one who told him he should say yes to a date with you. I’m the one who told him that I thought you still had potential, even though you hadn’t been reaching it. Harry is my family. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. If I thought you were foolish or careless enough to do something like that, I would have dealt with you a long time ago.’

Draco glanced at him. ‘You make death threats far more casually than I would consider reasonable.’ He said warily.

Neville just shrugged. ‘Death isn’t the only way to make people regret their choices. It only took some ice-cream for you to regret your choices.’

Draco ducked his head, gut churning with guilt again. ‘I – I… I don’t understand. Why did he eat it if he knew?’

‘We can’t know unless he tells us. But my suspicion would be that one, he genuinely thought it would be okay, seeing as the last reaction he had was so long ago. And two, he didn’t want to disappoint or upset you in some way. He would do anything for you to stay with him, not to leave him.’

Draco shook his head. ‘But I’ve been a terrible partner. Why on earth would he want to stay with me?’

‘Because he will take anything he can get. Do you remember months ago, we were all sitting around, and someone asked Harry his type and he said, ‘anyone who’ll take me?’ Everyone laughed like it was a clever joke, but he was dead serious. He just wants to be loved. He thinks you have that potential, and I think so too.’

Draco sat back against the couch, mind racing. ‘Do you really think so?’ he asked quietly.

Neville nodded. ‘I do. You have the potential, Draco. You just have to actually try to live up to it.’

***

‘Come here, sit dow- er, would you like to take a seat? In the sitting room, or we could sit in the kitchen? Or you can go up to bed, if you want to have a rest? I bet you’re still a bit tired, right? Do you want a shower first?’

Draco hovered around, dithering and fussing and throwing out a hundred different suggestions. Harry followed after him, eyes darting around in confusion.

‘Um, Draco, it’s alright. I’m alright. I’m not – not mad or anything, about what happened. It’s –‘

‘You should be!’ Draco whirled around, voice tight. ‘You should be mad, Harry. I pushed you, you tried to say no but I kept pushing until you felt like you didn’t have a choice! I am so sorry, Harry. It’s not alright, and you should be mad.’

Harry shrugged awkwardly, not meeting Draco’s eyes. ‘But I’m not. You didn’t know that would happen. You weren’t trying to be cruel, you just – you just wanted to share. Right?’

Draco’s face flickered through a series of emotions, so fast Harry had trouble keeping up. Anger and sorrow and fear and frustration and confusion and-

Harry took a careful step back. Draco noticed immediately, his face settling on sad. ‘I’m sorry, Harry. I’m not mad at you. I’m not – I wouldn’t.’ Draco took a steadying breath. ‘Neville explained some things while you were in hospital. Please don’t be mad at him! He was just trying to protect you, he just wanted me to understand what was going on.’

Harry stared at Draco. ‘I’m not mad at Neville. He’s my brother.’ He said, confused.

Draco blinked. ‘You could still be mad at him. You can be mad at people you love, sometimes. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them still.’

Harry stared again, then looked down. ‘Oh.’ He said simply.

Draco’s mind reeled. He didn’t know which direction to go next. He couldn’t believe that he’d missed this so completely. Harry wasn’t even trying to hide his confusion! How many things had Draco dismissed as a joke, or ignored, or not taken seriously, but they were actually examples of Harry not knowing something, trying to make sense of something that confused him. He didn’t think he was allowed to be mad at people he loved?

‘I’m sure there are things I do that annoy you, that make you mad. You’re allowed to be mad at me, Harry. Emotions aren’t wrong. Actions can be wrong, but emotions aren’t wrong.’

Harry’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t say anything.

Draco licked his lips and took a breath, ready to say more, then paused. He wasn’t sure what to say, firstly, but also, he thought maybe he should just give Harry some time to process.

‘I don’t like when you leave your shoes in the doorway.’ Harry said, voice so quiet and timid that Draco had to strain to hear him.

Draco nodded. ‘Thank you for telling me. I’ll be more careful about leaving them out of the way.’

Harry’s brow furrowed again, but he just nodded, eyes on his lap. ‘I think I might go take a shower.’ He said, still quiet. He stood and walked quickly from the room, before Draco had a chance to say anything else.

***

 Draco insisted on sleeping on the couch that night. He briefly felt guilty at making another choice for Harry, but given that Harry had just almost died, and this was his house, and he needed a good night’s sleep in his own bed, and he would give the shirt off his back if he thought Draco even might want it… Draco insisted on taking the couch.

Neither one slept well regardless. Harry’s broken sleep was riddled with flashes of nightmares and the creeping sensation of his throat closing over, making him lie awake and focus carefully on his breathing, feeling the air moving in and out of his lungs over and over, until the sun began to rise.

Draco’s night was filled with his own brand of nightmare – all the things he might have forced Harry to do, all the ways Harry had been so vulnerable and Draco had missed it. He lay awake much of the night, berating himself and replaying different moments over and over in his mind.

The sun was coming up on the horizon when Harry crept downstairs, sick of laying in bed, intent on a cup of tea to try to soothe his frazzled nerves. He paused in the doorway of the sitting room, eyes wide, as he saw Draco watching him.

‘Sorry. Um, couldn’t sleep. Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘I’ll make it!’ Draco said immediately, springing up from the couch and into the kitchen. Harry followed him hesitantly, not sure what was going on. He watched Draco quietly for a while, then spoke up.

‘Is… do you like your tea prepared differently than what I usually do?’

Draco turned to face him, confused. ‘No? I mean, I like the way you prepare it?’

Harry glanced at the teapot in Draco’s hand. ‘Oh. Um. Why – I can make it, if you like?’

Draco looked at Harry, then at the teapot, then back at Harry. ‘Am I doing it wrong? Or – or not how you like it?’

Harry’s brow furrowed for a moment. ‘No, it’s fine. I just… you were awake when I came in, so I thought maybe you didn’t sleep well. I can make it while you sit down, if you like.’

Draco looked at Harry searchingly, before nodding slightly to himself. ‘You can sit down, Harry. I think we need to have a conversation this morning. I’m almost done here. Would you like something to eat as well?’

Harry shook his head, stomach dropping to his bare feet at Draco’s words. This was it. Draco had just tried to be nice to Harry and share his food, and Harry had gone and freaked out and ended up in hospital. There was no way Draco was going to stick around now. Chest tight and eyes blurry with unshed tears, Harry slumped down into a chair at the table.

Draco carried their mugs over, setting them down and sitting in his own chair. He took a moment to sip his tea and gather his thoughts. When he looked up, the expression on Harry’s face stopped him in his tracks.

‘Harry? What’s wrong?’

Harry ducked his head, shaking it slowly. ‘Thank you for making tea, Draco.’

Draco felt a flash of pride mixed with guilt, that such a small act by him had been so deeply appreciated.

‘That was kind. I remember hearing once if you have bad news, it’s good to try to pair it with something good. If you need any help getting your things, let me know.’

Draco’s brow furrowed. ‘What?’ he asked dumbly.

‘I think your cufflinks are under the dresser, I’ve been meaning to pull them out. I have a spare trunk if you need to borrow it.’

‘What for?’

Harry glanced up at him. ‘You’ve got quite a bit of stuff here, I thought it might be easier?’

‘For what? Wait, Harry… are you breaking up with me?’

Harry’s brow furrowed. ‘Aren’t you breaking up with me?’

Draco gaped. ‘No! I don’t want to break up with you – unless that’s what you want?’

Harry shook his head, eyes on the table and fingers twisting in his lap.

Draco took a deep breath. ‘This is why we need to have a conversation. We’re-‘  Draco broke off at Harry’s shoulders slumping. ‘Harry? What is it?’

Harry gave him a strange glance. ‘So you are breaking up with me?’

‘Can we start this conversation over again? I have no idea what’s going on!’

‘You said you wanted to have a conversation. Is that not what people say when they want to break up?’

‘That’s also what people say when they want to have a conversation! Which is all I want! I don’t want to break up with you. I just think we’ve drifted along for too long without actually talking anything out, so I want to do that now.’

‘Oh.’ said Harry, a little bewildered. ‘Um. What do you want to talk about?’

‘Well firstly, I want to apologise.’

‘No, it’s my fault for misunderstanding. It’s fine. Sorry.’ Interrupted Harry.

‘Not for this conversation, as confusing as it has been. I want to apologise for our relationship thus far. No – I’m not breaking up with you, Harry!’ Draco said, a touch too sharply as he saw Harry wilt again. ‘Sorry, I – sorry.’ He cleared his throat, taking a steadying breath. ‘I want to apologise for taking you for granted. For not putting enough effort into this relationship. We’ve been together for eight months and I –‘

‘Nine.’ Said Harry softly. ‘Nine months.’

Draco ran a hand over his face. ‘Fuck. I’m sorry, Harry. Nine months, and I didn’t know you were allergic to nuts. Nine months we’ve been together, and Neville had to point out to me that I didn’t even know your favourite colour. That’s – I’m appalled at myself.’

‘I don’t have a favourite colour.’ said Harry, squirming slightly.

‘Neville said you don’t really have a favourite anything. We can come back to that later, but for now I just want to say that I am so sorry that I never realised. In past relationships, I have always made an effort to know what my partner likes, what they don’t like, that sort of thing. I don’t know why I haven’t done that with you. I cannot tell you how sorry I am, or how angry I am at myself.’ Draco paused to take a breath. ‘I have actually bragged to my friends about how easy this relationship has been, how we never fight or argue or even disagree. I didn’t even realise how abnormal that is. Not the fighting – I don’t think that’s normal. But the lack of disagreements. We are two different people, we can’t like everything exactly the same. But we have literally never disagreed on anything. I am shocked to realise I have been dating you for nine months, and I don’t even know you!’

Harry shrunk down, an apology on his lips, but Draco beat him to it.

‘Please don’t apologise. I’m not mad at you. I wanted to have this conversation to apologise, and to promise to do better by you. And to offer my help. I want to know you, Harry. And I want to help you know yourself better. If you’ll let me.’

Harry sat still for a long time, staring at the table, mind whirling. ‘I’m not sure that I’m someone worth knowing.’ He finally said, voice so soft Draco had to strain a little to hear it. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to be here, really.’

Draco’s heart lurched. ‘What are you saying, Harry?’ he asked, fear evident in his voice.

‘I’m not supposed to be here. I was supposed to –‘ Harry cut himself off.

Draco felt tears prickling in his eyes. ‘No. No, Harry, you weren’t supposed to die. You should never have been put in any of the situations you were in. You should have been protected and loved and taken care of. I am so sorry that didn’t happen. I want to offer it now, if I can. You are supposed to be here, Harry. Please don’t leave.’

Harry looked up at him finally, hearing the wobble of tears in Draco’s voice. His own eyes glistened suspiciously as he looked at Draco with wide eyes. He hesitantly shook his head in acknowledgement. ‘I’m not – I wouldn’t… I just think it was a mistake. I’m not going to – to ki – hurt myself.’ He mumbled, looking down again.

‘Please, Harry, can I hug you? I know you don’t- you’re not big on touch, but please, can I just –‘

Harry nodded, and Draco shuffled his chair close enough to reach out. He wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, tucking his face into the side of Harry’s neck. It took Harry a minute to work out what Draco was murmuring into his skin.

‘You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive...’

Harry choked on a sob. ‘I don’t know why, though. I don’t understand why!’

Draco squeezed him tighter, and Harry melted against him, tears trickling down his cheeks. He absently noticed a wet patch forming on his own shoulder, but he didn’t care. He just leaned, heavy and pliant, against Draco’s chest, and let Draco hold him.

If Draco wanted to stick around, Harry didn’t think he was strong enough to deny him. He’d take whatever he could get.

They sat that way for a long time, tea gone cold and arms aching and shirts slowly drying, just leaning close and still.

Finally, Harry began to lean back, and Draco let him go easily.

‘Sorry, I know you’re not big on hugs.’ Draco said, embarrassed.

‘I like hugs.’ Harry said quietly.

Draco looked up at him. ‘But – but you’re always so…’ he broke off, not wanting to sound accusing.

‘Awkward. I know, I’m sorry. I just… I’m not really used to it.’ Harry’s ears burned.

Draco shook his head. ‘If it’s something you like, we can work on it. I love hugs, I’ve always been a tactile person.’

Harry’s face began to glow a bright red. He looked frozen, eyes wide as he stared down.

Draco eyed him for a moment before sagging. ‘Another thing I must apologise for, Harry. I am so sorry for pushing you to do things you weren’t comfortable with. I cannot believe I climbed into your bed while you were asleep. And then the next morning, I came down and started – started kissing you and touching you without even asking! I cannot believe I was so-‘ Draco cut himself off with a sharp groan, rubbing at his forehead.

‘It’s my fault,’ said Harry, ‘I know that normal couples do that stuff. I’m sorry we haven’t- ‘

Draco held up a hand. ‘Please don’t apologise. I’m the one who should be sorry. Clearly physical intimacy is not a simple topic for you, we should have talked about it before now. I thought giving you space was enough, but I should have actually made an effort to find out what it is that you struggle with, and offered my support. I certainly should not have just started grabbing at you one day out of the blue.’

Harry’s ears burned as Draco spoke, shame coiling in his gut. He shook his head. ‘I don’t… There shouldn’t be an issue, it’s not like anyone ever – ever… hurt me or something. I just…’ He trailed off, not sure what to say next.

Draco sat quietly, determined to give Harry time to think and not just jump in and take over the conversation. The silence stretched on, until Harry started to squirm uncomfortably. He was studiously avoiding eye contact, and Draco could see the redness in his face starting to spread down his neck and over his chest. He wasn’t sure what to do.

‘Harry?’ he asked gently.

Harry’s shoulders hunched, but he raised his head a little to show he was listening.

‘Er, did you want to finish that thought? You sort of trailed off.’

Harry shrugged, feeling like his face was on fire.

‘Would it maybe help if I asked questions, rather than trying to find the words yourself?’

Harry’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and he nodded.

Draco paused to think. ‘You said nobody has ever hurt you – not in a sexual or intimate way, at least?’

Harry shook his head, shoulders relaxing a little more.

‘Okay. Is there something specific about intimacy that bothers you, or that you’re uncomfortable with? Or is it more general?’

Harry squirmed. ‘General, I s’pose.’ He mumbled.

‘Are there things you’ve done in the past that you enjoyed?’

Harry shrugged again, but the blush returned and his shoulders started to pull back up around his ears. Draco stared.

‘Harry… Have you – are you a virgin?’

Harry looked like he might combust. He didn’t respond, other than to tuck his chin into his chest and fold his arms tightly across his chest. Draco stared in surprise for a moment longer, then Harry suddenly snapped. ‘Not like there was much time for that when someone or another has been trying to kill me my whole life! I had other things on my mind than flirting or – or sex or whatever!’

Draco sat back a little, surprised at the sudden flare of anger. ‘I’m sorry, Harry. I’m not trying to… I’m just a little surprised.’

‘Oh sure, there must be a queue of people lined up to fuck the boy-who-didn’t-die, how could he not have been with anyone?!’ Harry snarled, and Draco tried not to wince.

‘No, Harry, that’s not what I was thinking. I was wondering about Ginny.’

Harry abruptly slumped, ears burning and shame radiating from him. He shook his head. ‘We never… we didn’t.’

Draco nodded slowly, watching Harry carefully. The poor man was so tense it must have hurt. Draco wasn’t sure where to even begin to unpack this conversation. ‘I think we should take a little break. A change of pace for a while.’

Harry glanced up, wary and confused.

‘We definitely need to revisit this, but I think we both need some time to just… breathe. I have an idea for what me might do, if you’re willing? We’d have to leave the house. Or we can just have another cup of tea, sit quietly and read or something, if you’d prefer?’

Harry watched him warily, indecision written all over his face. ‘Where would we be going?’ he finally asked.

Draco had been tempted to make it a surprise, but seeing Harry’s apprehension, he decided that wouldn’t be helpful. ‘A record shop in muggle London. Record players are one of the few pieces of muggle technology that work around magic, and muggle musicians are far superior to wixen in almost all comparable cases. I mean, half of what they sing about makes no sense to me, but I can still enjoy the music. Would you like to check it out, or would you prefer to stay home? No issue from me if you’d rather not leave the house today. You were in hospital only this morning, if you’d rather rest then that is more than fine.’

Harry was still watching him, like he was expecting some sort of trick or trap. It made Draco’s heart clench. ‘Or I can go and give you some space, if you would prefer that?’

He kept his tone neutral, even as he hoped desperately that Harry wouldn’t kick him out.

When Harry nodded, he felt his heart sink. ‘You’d prefer I give you some space?’ he asked to clarify.

Harry nodded again.

Draco licked his lips, cleared his throat against the lump suddenly lodged there, and licked his lips again. ‘Shall I perhaps go to the record store and return later, or shall I go back to my parents and wait for – ‘ he cleared his throat again. ‘if you’d like to invite me back again?’

He was fighting hard to keep his tone even, his face open and calm, but he felt like his stomach had dropped through the floor.

Harry watched him intently for a long minute before replying. ‘I don’t have a record player.’

Draco looked up, confused. Taking a deep breath, he decided blunt honesty would be best. ‘Er… I’m not sure if you’re telling me you aren’t interested in records and I should go back to my parents’ house, or if you’re just telling me a fact?’

A ghost of a smile touched Harry’s cheek. ‘Maybe pick one up while you’re in muggle London? I think I’d like to hear what you consider better than Celestina Warbeck.’ The joke fell a little flat, but Draco felt like he could breathe again.

‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours? Um, Neville said he or Luna would be by the Floo all day if – if you wanted to talk to him.’ Draco stepped towards the door, hesitated and took half a step back into the room, before seeming to catch himself and step away again. ‘Um. Bye.’

Harry gave him a nod, head ducked, and listened to the front door close as Draco left. The silence sat heavy in the air for a long moment, before he stood and threw some powder into the Floo.

‘Hi Luna, could you ask Neville to come over when he has some time?’

Luna smiled serenely from inside the green flames. ‘Hi Harry. He’ll be through in a minute. Don’t forget to check for Flittering Shuppers when Draco gets back.’

Before Harry had a chance to ask what on earth she was talking about, she was gone. Harry leaned back and brushed off his knees, then went to make tea.

Neville was just stepping through when Harry returned with a tray, and he gave Harry an appraising look. ‘Alright, little brother?’

Harry rolled his eyes. ‘You’re a day older than me, Neville.’

‘Yes. Older than you, you’re right.’ Neville smirked. He took a seat, preparing his cup of tea and sitting back. ‘Did Draco go to work?’

Harry shook his head, a light blush starting on his cheeks. ‘No, I told him to go out for a bit.’

Neville raised his eyebrows. ‘You told him to leave? Well done, Harry!’

Harry shook his head again. ‘Not leave – well, not leave, just for a break. And really, he suggested it, I just agreed.’

‘Even so, I’m sure he probably didn’t want to, but you asked for what you wanted, not just what you thought would make him happy. I’m proud of you, Harry.’

Harry’s blush darkened. Desperate to change the subject, he blurted out, ‘What’s a Flittering Shupper?’

Neville suddenly dropped his gaze, his own cheeks glowing. ‘Luna.’ He grumbled, before glancing up sheepishly. ‘Um, they apparently indicate deceitful appearances, like glamours or Polyjuice potion, that sort of thing.’

Harry had the sense that Neville wasn’t saying something. ‘Okay… and why did she tell me to look for them when Draco came back?’

Neville squirmed, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Harry’s eyes widened. ‘Neville?’

Neville let out a gust of air. ‘I may or may not have punched him while you were in hospital.’ He mumbled.

Harry blinked. ‘You punched him? Why?’ 

‘Because he bullied you into hurting yourself, Harry! He should have known after this long that you were allergic, he should have known that you don’t like to say no, he shouldn’t have pushed you and made you do something you didn’t want to do! I know you would have put up a slight protest at least, but he just ran roughshod over you and made you eat nuts! Or course I was furious – you could have died!’ Neville’s eyes were blazing, hands clenching at his knees, whole body radiating frustration and fear.

Harry leaned back against his chair. He wasn’t afraid of Neville, but angry people were… difficult to be around. Neville noticed immediately, consciously softening his body language. ‘Sorry, Harry.’

‘Draco said… he said it’s okay to be mad at people you love?’ Harry asked hesitantly.

Neville tried not to slump. ‘He’s right. You can be mad but still love someone. I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to just blab all of your- ‘

‘I’m not mad at you.’ Harry interrupted. ‘I know why you did it, why you told them. I’m not mad.’

‘You can understand why and still be mad, though.’

Harry considered this for a moment, before shaking his head. ‘Still not mad at you. I’m, um… I’m mad at Draco, I think.’ Harry ducked his head, fingers twisting around his cup of tea.

Neville nodded. ‘Why is that?’ he asked gently.

‘Because it took me nearly dying for him to agree to stop leaving his bloody shoes in the doorway! Even though I’ve asked him so many times before, and I’ve tripped over them so many times before!’ His voice was rising, frustration evident. ‘I’d trip on his shoes, I’d ask him to put them against the wall, he’d agree, then next time he’d leave them in the middle of the bloody mat again! And now suddenly he wants to know if there’s things he does that make me mad, and I said his shoes in the doorway, and he just says, oh sure, I’ll be sure to put them away properly! Like it’s the first he’s ever heard of it! Like he hasn’t picked me up off the floor with groceries thrown everywhere more than once! How do I know he’s actually going to change if I’ve asked him to do it before and he ignored me, but now that I’ve been in hospital, he suddenly wants to listen?! Is he just doing this because he feels guilty? What about when the guilt wears off – what then? He just goes back to leaving his shoes in the doorway and I go back to tripping over them again? But it’s such a small thing, it’s ridiculous! It shouldn’t matter so much to me! it’s not as if I’d break up with him over something so small as shoes. I just – I don’t know, Nev.’ Harry’s anger subsided, and a heaviness overtook him. ‘Maybe it’s all too hard. I should just be grateful that I’m even here, and that someone wants to be with me. Not – not making a fuss about something so petty.’

Neville stood and pulled out his wand, waving it at Harry’s chair. It warped beneath him, transfiguring into a small couch. Neville sat beside him and tugged Harry over, until he was under Neville’s arm, leaning against his side. Harry slumped heavily, letting out a sigh.

‘Harry, can I be honest? I think maybe you place too much importance on having someone in your life in a romantic capacity. Having, or not having, a boyfriend or girlfriend does not make you any more or less worthy, or important, or lovable, or likable. Sure, it’s nice to have someone love you in that way, but that’s not the only way to be important to someone. You have a lot of friends, Harry. People who love you. People who enjoy spending time with you, who would be willing to do things with you, willing to go places with you, willing to sit and talk with you. A romantic partner is not the only person that you can do those things with. I think maybe you’ve held back on a lot of your life, waiting for someone to come along and fulfill all these roles, but there has been people available already to fill those roles – just not all the same person. I know I encouraged you to keep trying with Draco, but I think maybe… maybe you need some time to be single and figure out who you are.’

Harry was quiet for a long while. ‘I’ve been single for a long time, Nev.’ He finally said.

‘No, not like this. You were – you were waiting for someone then.’ Neville paused, considering his next words, but Harry spoke up next.

‘Mm,’ Harry hummed. ‘I think I know what you mean. Neville, do you… do you think I should break up with Draco?’

Neville hesitated. ‘I don’t want to tell you to decide either way, Harry. That choice is yours to make. But I think you should consider whether it will help or hinder you to be with him, while you’re trying to learn how to live your life differently. Will he support you? Will he smother you? Will he encourage you? Will he try to shelter you? I know what your relationship looks like from the outside, but only you and Draco know what it’s like on the inside. It’s your decision about whether staying together or separating will work better for you.’

Harry was quiet then, and Neville gave him time to think. They sat, leaning close together for a long time.

The sound of a quick knock at the front door before it opened roused them from their contemplation.

‘Harry? You home?’ called Draco, stepping inside.

‘In here with Nev,’ called Harry.

Draco paused for a second in the doorway, Chinese food in hand, taking in the sight of his boyfriend leaning heavily against another man, whose arm was wrapped over his shoulders, and blinked. Merlin, he was glad Neville and Harry considered each other brothers, or he’d be a little concerned.

‘Alright, Neville? You staying for dinner?’ Draco asked.

Neville shook his head. ‘Nah, I’d better get back. Luna will be waiting. You two enjoy your meal. Harry, take some time to think about it. I’ll see you both later.’ Neville squeezed Harry closer for a second, planting a sloppy kiss on his forehead with a grin, making Harry grimace and shove at him good-naturedly.

Draco and Harry escorted him to the front door, waving goodbye. Draco shut the door, and Harry turned around, noticing suddenly that Draco’s boots were lined up neatly beside the wall. He stared at them for a minute before Draco’s gently cleared throat jerked him back to the present. He looked at Draco, noting the strange expression on his face – a combination or guilt and pride and… something else? Before turning back and walking to the kitchen.

Draco put the bag of takeout on the table and started unpacking. ‘I may have gone a little overboard with the ordering,’ he said sheepishly. ‘But I thought you might like to try a few different things, as well as the usual stuff we get, so I just sort of kept asking for more things. I think Mrs Chu thinks we’re having a party with the amount of food I bought!’

Harry gave him a weak smile, and Draco faltered. Harry could see his mind racing, trying to work out what to say.

‘Let’s enjoy dinner,’ Harry said quietly. ‘We can talk about serious stuff after.’

Harry felt guilt clawing at him as Draco wilted.

‘I don’t want to push, Harry, but… I’m not sure I can eat if I don’t have some idea of where that discussion might go. Are you – can we work this out, or are we going to break up?’ Draco tried to keep his voice level, but it wobbled slightly at the end.

Harry ducked his head. ‘I don’t know yet.’ He said softly. ‘I need to think about it.’

Draco nodded, throat tight. He wanted to beg, wanted to assure Harry he’d do better, wanted to hold him and promise him the world. But he’d had the chance to do that for months already and he hadn’t. He’d hurt Harry, over and over instead. He swallowed convulsively, nodding again. ‘Okay. I – ‘ he cleared his throat. ‘Er, let’s eat.’

They both sat down, avoiding eye contact and picking half-heartedly from the excessive amount of options. After a little while, in which neither ate very much, Harry pushed his plate away slightly.  Draco copied almost immediately, relieved to be moving on.

Harry hesitated for a moment, before starting to pack up the food to put away in the cooling cupboard and stack the dishes by the sink. Draco joined in, casting a quick spell over the dishes and the table, leaving both clean and dry again. He noticed Harry staring at the sink for a long second, before he turned and lead the way into the sitting room, Draco following behind him.

After a moment’s pause, Draco took a seat on the couch across from Harry’s, not wanting to crowd him. He tried not to let his hurt show when Harry seemed to relax just a bit.

Silence reigned in the room. Draco wanted to jump in and start promising all the ways he would change, all the ways he would do better, all the reasons they should stay together – but he held his tongue. This had to be Harry’s choice. He didn’t want to push or guilt him into something he didn’t truly want. And Draco, at the end of the day, didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t truly want to be with him.

Finally, Harry raised his head, looking at Draco’s chin. ‘I spoke with Neville. Um, obviously, seeing as you came home and he was here.’ Harry paused, blushing. ‘Um, he said… he said he thinks I should take some time to work out who I am and what I want with my life.’ Harry paused again, and Draco nodded.

‘I think he’s right, Harry. I think you do need to spend some time figuring out what you like, what you want, what is next for you. I would – I don’t want to push, or – or make assumptions, but I would be honoured if you let me be part of that with you, let me help you if you needed it.’

Harry was quiet, and Draco felt his heart sinking again. ‘Oh. You’re breaking up with me.’

Harry’s face twisted with guilt. ‘I think so. I don’t know who I will be at the end of this, and I don’t think it’s fair to you to expect you to stay around if you don’t like who I become. And I don’t know if I will be able to – to change, or grow or whatever, if I’m always wondering if you’re okay with it, you know? I really like you, Draco, but I just… I think I have to do this alone. Well, not alone, but not sort of… tied to someone?’ he finished uncertainly.

Draco nodded, blinking quickly. ‘I understand. I hope – I hope we can at least be friends, still? I understand if you need some time, but… I don’t want to lose you entirely, if we can help it.’ He swallowed roughly. ‘And of course I will always be here if you need help, or advice or – or anything. Anything, Harry, just say the word.’

Harry looked even guiltier. ‘Draco, I – um. Thank you. For the offer. I’m so sorry to do this to you –‘

‘No, don’t apologise. Honestly, Harry, you have been far better to me than I have deserved, you have put up with far more than you ever should have. I have been a terrible partner. You deserve someone better than me, when you’re ready for another relationship. I hope you find someone worthy of you.’

Harry’s expression looked complicated. ‘It’s not… Draco, I’m not breaking up with you because you aren’t good enough or something. It’s because I’m not good enough. I mean, what do I have to show for my life? A dull apartment, a dull job, a boyfriend I’m terrified of losing at any moment, no real hobbies, no real idea what I like or want or – or anything. You are the one that deserves more than what I can offer, Draco. How could anyone love someone who doesn’t even know who they are?! I don’t know who I am, Draco. I’m only breaking up with you because I need to find out, and I don’t think I can do it while we’re together. I can’t just keep floating through life wondering why I didn’t die when I was seventeen.’

Draco stared at him, heartbreak and worry and sadness clear on his face. ‘Harry… I would list the reasons I love you, but I don’t think that would be helpful right now when you’ve made up your mind already. Let me just say, I can think of so many reasons someone would love you. I hope you find some of those reasons. And – and I hope it isn’t too forward of me to say, but I intend to wait, until whenever you decide you are ready. Maybe you won’t be interested in me any longer, maybe you’ll find someone else. But know that I will wait for you, if you decide to give me a second chance.’

Harry shook his head, tears in his eyes. ‘Draco, I can’t ask you to wait for me! I don’t know what I’m even looking for, there’s no telling how long it could take! And you – you’re incredible, anyone would be lucky to be with you! Please, Draco, promise me – if someone asks you out – someone good, and kind, and generous, someone who you could love. If they ask you out, don’t say no because you hope I’ll come back one day. Please, Draco.’

Tears shone in Draco’s eyes, as he stared at Harry. He desperately didn’t want to agree- how could he just move on?! He would wait until Harry was ready, and then, then, if Harry rejected him again, maybe he would move on. But he could see that Harry was worried, so he nodded silently, trying to hold back his tears.

‘I’m sorry, Draco.’

***

Draco stepped out of the courtroom, sighing in relief.

It had been more than two years since Harry and he had broken up. Occasional owl letters showed up, but Draco more often got updates on Harry from Ron and Hermione, or others in their little group, than he did directly from Harry. He knew Harry just needed to keep some distance between them, but it still hurt. He wasn’t sure how long Harry needed, but he was still waiting, holding out hope. Two years was a long time – but Harry was worth it.

Even if Draco had been a terrible partner in all the small, important ways, he wasn’t entirely blind. He was interested in Harry in the first place because of who Harry was. Harry himself might not see it, but Draco did. Draco had been watching him since their first year of school. He saw Harry’s enthusiasm, his energy, his passion and excitement and wonder at life – especially magical life. He saw Harry’s loyalty, his courage, his faith in others and in goodness, his willingness to give people second chances. His passion for learning new things, and his diligence in tackling difficult spells – he had learnt a patronus charm at thirteen! Draco still shook his head at that – most adults wizards couldn’t produce anything, let alone a corporeal form. Harry’s power was amazing, but it was far from the most impressive thing about him.

That would be Harry’s heart. His compassion, his ability to love and care for everyone – wixen, muggles, creatures, half-breeds. Criminals and werewolves and elves and people who had hurt him before. Draco didn’t know how he managed it, but it inspired him every time he thought about it. He hoped he could one day be even half as kind and wonderful as Harry.

So yes, he would wait. Even if it took five years, or fifty – he would wait, and if there was any chance Harry might take him back, he’d be ready.

Not that his life was on hold – just his love life.

In fact, today had been very busy. Multiple overlapping cases had eventually been combined into one huge case. It had been on the desks of the law department for years now. It had taken months of trying to sort through each case, until someone had the bright idea of combining the cases and resources, and suddenly things started to progress. The team in the law department had changed quite a bit since the beginning, and almost by default, being one of the longest serving members of the team, Draco ended up heading the case.

Today, not fifteen minutes prior, Draco had stood before the Wizengamot and presented the bill, and it had been almost unanimously voted in. In the wake of the war, many departments were a mess, and often were running multiple departments out of one understaffed office. As a result, some interesting co-creations had emerged in different fields.

In Draco’s department, this had resulted in various prosecution cases, discrimination cases, and laws created while the war was going on – which were frankly terrible and needed to be repealed as soon as possible – which had all come together, along with a cobbled-together cohort of people from various sub-departments who had survived the war being pooled together, and ultimately culminating in the bill Draco had presented today.

Draco grinned even as a bright camera flash temporarily blinded him.

‘Mr Malfoy! How does it feel to know your bill has passed?’

‘It’s not my bill – it’s the work of dozens of people and several years work. But it feels incredible. We are so proud of what we have achieved, and proud of the direction the wizarding world will be heading in the future. This bill – for the integration of all magical beings into our culture, free from harassment and discrimination, is a landmark moment. It is our sincere hope – and belief – that our society will be better for it.’

Draco smiled and shook hands and deftly brushed aside praise, insisting the team was equally responsible and deserving of credit and admiration. When the crowd finally began to thin out, Draco seized the opportunity to slip away, ducking down a side hallway and taking the long route to the Floo room.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he turned the corner into the Floo room.

Harry.

Harry, standing there, leaning casually against the wall.

Standing there, looking at him.

Smiling. Soft and small and tentative.

Harry.

Draco stared. His eyes roamed over Harry, hungry for clues.

Was he well? Did he look too thin? Were there dark circles under his eyes? Was his skin a darker, warmer shade than the last time Draco saw him? Or had it been so long Draco didn’t remember him quite right?

Draco took a hesitant step closer, looking more carefully.

Harry’s skin was definitely darker – a sun-kissed brown, with new freckles across his cheeks. There were some rings under his eyes, but they didn’t look terrible. He only looked like maybe he’d been travelling, not waking up every night screaming or something. He was thin, but he looked well. His eyes – Merlin, his eyes. So bright, glowing with life, even from this far away. Bright, warm, green eyes, looking right at him.

Draco swallowed. ‘Hi, Harry.’ He said, voice a little hoarse.

Harry smiled, gentle and knowing. ‘Hi Draco. It might be a bit presumptuous of me, but perhaps we ought to head to yours for a catch up, rather than in the Ministry Floo room?’ he smirked.

Merlin’s teeth, that smirk. Draco swallowed again, nodding a little too eagerly. ‘Yes, yeah, good – good idea. Er, yeah. Mine – er, my house. The address is… Draco’s house.’ He faltered, blushing.

Harry’s expression was some strange mix of gentle smile and amused smirk, and Draco felt his heart thumping hard in his chest.

‘Shall I follow you in a couple of minutes? Give you a chance to tidy up, just in case?’ Harry teased, and Draco blushed bright red.

‘Er, maybe?’ he squeaked. Squeaked. Bloody hell, how embarrassing! He scurried for the Floo, tossing a handful in and disappearing in a flash of green flame.

Fortunately his apartment was fairly tidy when he arrived. A couple of dirty mugs around the living area, a few dishes in the sink, a jacket tossed on the couch. He rushed around, trying to put things to rights, hoping Harry had been genuine in his offer to wait a few minutes, and wasn’t about to come through his Floo and see Draco running around like a fool.

When he’d stuffed everything back into it’s place, Draco straightened, casting a judgemental eye around the place. It was tidy, nothing standing out too badly. He gave a brisk nod, then turned to the kitchen, preparing some tea.

He’d just pulled down some mugs when he heard he Floo, and he hurried back to the living room, brushing nervously at his hair.

Harry stepped through, brushing a few specks of soot from his trousers. He looked around with interest, and Draco glanced around again, worried something might look off. Harry just gave a small smile, then stepped towards Draco, who froze for a second, heart thumping.

‘I made tea!’ Draco blurted nervously. ‘I mean, I’m making tea. Now. Still – still brewing. Would you like some? Tea?’ he babbled, face growing redder.

Harry smiled again, making Draco’s heart thump hard again. ‘Tea would be nice. Milk, one sugar, please.’

Draco nodded. ‘Still the same.’ He said quietly, and Harry’s expression flickered for a second. Draco hesitated, but decided to return to the tea first.

He set everything on a tray and carried it into the living room. He nodded at Harry to sit, arranging the tray on the coffee table and taking a seat himself. ‘How have you been?’ he asked, voice a little high and tight. He tried to take a calming breath.

‘I’ve been well.’ Harry answered, a hint of amusement in his voice. ‘I’ve been hearing loads about you. About the work you’ve been doing, and the bill that was passed today. It’s very impressive, Draco. Well done.’

Draco flushed to the roots of his hair at the praise. Before he could begin to deflect, Harry asked, ‘How have you been? Aside from work, which is obviously going well?’

Draco gave an embarrassed grin. ‘Work has taken up a lot of time, honestly. Now that the bill has passed, I’m planning a bit of a career change. Not entirely different, but a less hectic role. Something a little more nine-to-five, you know? I don’t feel like I’ve had enough time for friends or hobbies or anything lately, you know? I mean, I loved what I was doing, but it wasn’t sustainable for the long term. It took me a while to realise that, I suppose, but I missed most of Luna’s birthday party a while ago, and when I arrived late, I just felt like I was on a different page to everybody else. It was an eye opener. And there was everything with… with you.’ Draco trailed off, eyes downcast and ears burning with shame. ‘I want to apologise again, Harry. I can’t believe –‘

 ‘Draco,’ Harry interrupted gently. ‘It’s alright. We have a lot to talk about, but I’m not angry about it. Any of it.’

‘You know you could be though, right? You can feel angry about it!’ Draco said insistently, mind immediately flashing back to the conversation where he realised Harry thought he wasn’t allowed to be mad at people he loved. Draco felt a flash of fear – was this Harry’s gentle way of telling him he didn’t love Draco, and that’s why he wasn’t mad at him? Draco swallowed convulsively, hands clenching around his tea.

‘I know.’ Said Harry, still gentle. ‘I was mad, for a little while. But I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, and a lot of time to grow. I’m not the same person I was when we were together.’ Harry leaned back against the couch, twisting the mug in his hands, eyes darting from side to side.

After a long beat of silence, Draco spoke quietly. ‘I’d very much like the chance to get to know who you are now, if you’re willing?’

Harry’s smile lit up his face, and Draco’s breath caught for a second.

‘I would very much like that.’ Harry replied, just as softly. ‘Do you have any plans for the evening?’

‘None,’ Draco smiled. ‘I’m on holidays for a week before I return to work, so nothing for the next few days. How long will you be around?’

‘I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.’ grinned Harry, eyes bright. ‘And I’ve got a few plans.’