The Yule Ball carried on around him, a blur of color and noise, but Draco couldn’t care less. All he could see, all he could feel, was Harry. That boy, the one he was supposed to hate, the one he had traded insults with for years, was the only thing grounding him in this moment. Except Harry wasn’t his tonight. Not here, not in front of all these people.
Draco had told himself that their secret was fine. That the fleeting moments in dark corridors, the whispered confessions behind closed doors, were enough. But tonight, as he watched Harry laugh, watched him shine in front of everyone else, that lie unraveled. His heart pounded violently in his chest, his hands shaking as he fought the urge to march across the room and pull Harry away from it all.
His gaze stayed locked on Harry as Cedric leaned in closer, his face too damn close, saying something that made Harry smile, and Draco’s blood boiled.
It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair.
He gripped his wand inside his robe pocket, knuckles white from the pressure. What right did Cedric have to be so close to his Harry? Draco had been the one to hold him, to know every scar, every insecurity, every dream Harry had whispered to him late at night. Draco had been the one to see Harry at his most vulnerable. And now, standing here, watching everyone else live in ignorance of what they shared, Draco wanted to scream.
His vision tunneled, the world shrinking around him until it was just him and Harry. The golden glow of the ballroom dimmed, and the chatter of students around him became nothing more than static. It was unbearable. The distance between them, the charade. It gnawed at him, until all that was left was raw need. Need to claim what was his.
“Fuck it,” Draco whispered under his breath.
Without thinking, without considering the consequences, Draco pushed himself away from the wall, heart hammering in his chest. His legs carried him across the floor on autopilot, weaving through the sea of students, his eyes never leaving Harry.
The moment stretched, his pulse racing as he closed the gap. He was breaking all the rules. Their rules. But Draco didn’t care. Not anymore.
Harry turned just as Draco reached him, surprise flickering in those green eyes that had haunted Draco’s dreams for years. “Malfoy?”
Draco didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His chest was tight, his breath shallow, and the only thing grounding him was the heat of Harry’s gaze and the sound of his name on Harry’s lips. The world around them seemed to stop, as though the very room held its breath, waiting for what came next.
And Draco snapped.
He grabbed Harry by the wrist, tugging him away from Cedric, away from everyone, and pulling him close. There were gasps from the crowd, whispers starting to spread, but Draco didn’t care. Let them talk. Let them see.
“Draco,” Harry said again, his voice lower now, eyes wide as he glanced around. “What are you doing? You—”
“Fuck them,” Draco growled, cutting him off. His heart was racing, his body trembling with adrenaline and fear and want. “I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re mine.”
Harry’s lips parted in shock, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The entire hall seemed to have gone silent, eyes on them, but Draco could barely register it. His hands were shaking, his breath uneven as he looked at Harry, really looked at him.
“Say my name again,” Draco whispered, voice rough with emotion.
Harry blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Draco…”
And there it was. The moment everything froze again, the moment where nothing else mattered. Not Cedric, not the students staring at them, not even the years of animosity between them.
It had always been Harry. From the moment they were children, pretending to hate each other, to the moment their lips had first crashed together in a fit of frustration and passion. Harry was his lifeline, the only constant in the chaos of their lives. And Draco was done hiding it.
“You think this is fair?” Draco’s voice cracked, raw with all the pent-up emotion he had been carrying for so long. “You think it’s fair that we pretend nothing’s happening between us while you stand there with that bloody Hufflepuff?”
Harry was staring at him now, mouth open, words caught somewhere between shock and understanding. Draco’s heart felt like it was on fire. He was terrified, exposed in a way he had never been before. But it didn’t matter. Not now.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Draco continued, voice shaking. “I can’t stand there and watch you pretend like we don’t mean anything to each other. Like you don’t need me as much as I need you.”
Harry was still silent, his eyes searching Draco’s face for answers. But Draco didn’t need words. He could see it in Harry’s eyes—the same fear, the same desire that had haunted Draco for months.
They had always been more than enemies. And now, finally, it was time to stop pretending.
In one swift motion, Draco leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips crashed against Harry’s, fierce and desperate, like he was trying to make up for every second they had spent apart. And Harry, for all his confusion, kissed him back just as fiercely.
The world melted away. The music, the whispers, the crowd—it all disappeared in that moment, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a kiss that was years in the making. Draco’s hands slid into Harry’s hair, pulling him closer, holding on like he was afraid to let go.
Because he was.