louder than bombs, i break
Harry wakes up the next morning to Draco running his fingers through his hair. Harry stirs a little, and Draco quickly pulls his hand away, “Sorry, you looked like you were having a nightmare.” Harry sits up, nods, and yawns. Draco’s still lying next to Harry, the blanket now only covering his legs. Harry is blessed with the sight of Draco Malfoy’s chest, and he never wants to look away. Sadly, he has to.
“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” Harry says, his voice still gruff from sleep. Draco smiles and sits up, his shoulder now flesh with Harry’s. Harry tries to ignore the feeling of Draco’s skin against his own. Through his blurry vision, he makes out the glint in Draco’s eyes. He convinces himself that maybe it’s the sun hitting Draco’s eyes just so. It’s just a coincidence. It’s Harry’s mind leading him on. It’s all in his head.
“You okay, Harry? You’re gettin’ spacey over there,” Draco says, leaning forward to see Harry’s face. Harry shakes it off and nods, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Draco hums.
Is Harry that obvious when he spaces out? He’s never been called out for it, not even by Ron- Ron.
Harry feels a sharp sting when he thinks of Ron. Part of him is pissed, and the other part of him is so distraught that he lost his best friend over a breakup. Harry knows, realistically, that it doesn’t matter. They’ll all move on. Ginny won’t be crying forever. He and Ginny will awkwardly interact around each other, but it won’t drastically affect their lives. Right now, she’s upset. She’ll get over it soon enough. Harry thinks that because it was a teenage relationship, she won’t cry forever, and Harry won’t feel this shitty forever. He hopes, at least. Harry doesn’t even think it counts all that much toward a relationship. They never went on dates, were never intimate, and didn’t change how they acted toward each other. It felt more like hanging out with a close friend to Harry; he was fine with that. The most Harry and Ginny ever did was have heart-to-heart conversations, study together, and joke around. In the back of his mind, he felt like he was hanging out with his sister.
He knows it’s fucked up to date someone knowing you thought of them like that. But, Ginny asked him out, and he couldn’t bear to see her hurt because of him. Funny, isn’t it? It started with him not wanting to hurt Ginny and ended with him hurting Ginny. Even if the pain is only temporary for her, he still hurt her. He’s forever carved a wound into his friendship with Ron, and they’ll never be the same again. To Ron, Harry will always be the guy who fucked over his sister. The guy who used his sister to figure himself out broke up with her when he figured it out. How selfish of that asshole. He’s ruined all of his relationships for his selfish desires. His feelings. His own fucked up fantasies. Why does he have to destroy everything good in his life?
“Harry. Harry, shit, are you good? You’re shaking,” Draco’s voice breaks through Harry’s racing thoughts, and he opens his eyes. He lets out a shuddering breath, “I don’t know. I feel like my whole life is over.”
Draco nods in understanding and pulls Harry into his chest, tightly hugging him. Harry melts into the touch, instantly feeling better at the contact. He doesn't know what to do yet, but Draco makes him feel better. Draco makes him feel less like a failure, he understands Harry more than anyone else ever has. Harry is already so thankful for Draco, and they haven't been talking for that long. It’s only been a couple of days, and Harry can't imagine life without Draco.
*****
The sun creeps into the Slytherin tower, pulling Harry out of sleep. He sighs contently at his current position in life: he’s being spooned by Draco Malfoy. Harry knows it’s not intentional, but his heart lurches like it was on purpose. He can feel Draco’s breath on the back of his neck. He shudders and pulls out of Draco’s grasp before his thoughts get out of hand; it’s too soon to do something he’ll regret. He doesn’t even know if Draco thinks about him like that.
Harry sits up so that his feet hang over the edge of the bed, and he’s able to get a good look at Draco’s room. Draco has posters hanging up all over his room, most of them are Quidditch posters, and he smiles. Draco is more into Quidditch than Harry thought, he hadn’t realized how important it was to him. Harry feels a pang in his chest when he thinks about how often he would goad in front of Draco when it came to Quidditch. He has to remind himself that the past is in the past; there’s no going back to fix things. What’s done is done, and all he can do is try to repair the damage he’s done.
Draco shifts, groans, and then proceeds with his snoring. Harry snorts; Draco’s a lot cuter when he’s sleeping. He looks so peaceful, lost in his dreams. Harry hopes they’re good dreams.
Harry hasn’t had a dream since the war started; he’s only had nightmares. He often wakes up at night breathless and sobbing without remembering why. He can make some guesses to what he dreamed about, because every second of the war was traumatizing to him. He’s spent every waking moment of his life wondering if he could’ve saved Hedwig, if he could’ve saved Snape, if he could stop himself from hurting Draco, if…
If the war didn’t happen, would Harry be where he is now? Would he have feelings for Draco Malfoy, or would he be dating Ginny still? He wonders if he’d be happy with himself if the war never happened. Part of him thinks he wouldn’t. Harry believes that everything happens for a reason, but he shouldn’t have had to go through so much to figure himself out. He witnessed so many people die, died himself, and that’s what it took for him to figure out he’s in love with Draco Malfoy.
Is he really that oblivious of his feelings?
Harry has always struggled to talk about how he feels. It’s one of the main reasons he agreed to go out with Ginny in the first place, he didn’t want to admit what he felt at the time. He thinks it’s because he didn’t have a loving, supportive environment growing up. He had the Dursley’s, and the only love from them he saw wasn’t directed at him. Harry bottles up most of his emotions; except when he’s with Draco.
For some reason, when he’s with Draco, words flow out of him like a waterfall. He can’t stop himself from blurting out how he feels; he’s surprised he hasn’t confessed his feelings yet. Maybe it’s because he knows Draco will understand, or maybe it’s because of his own feelings. Harry isn’t sure about the why, he just knows he does it. He isn’t sure if it’s a good or a bad thing just yet. He prays that it’s a good thing, despite everything.