Harry/Theo, Hermione, Draco (bed-sharing)
Theo had almost fallen asleep when the bedroom door opened.
He was discombobulated for a moment until he felt Harry shift beside him and remembered that he’d slept over after their date. It was becoming a habit and one he intended to keep repeating.
Beside him, Harry sat up.
“Hermione?”
“Sorry,” came her whispered reply. “I had a bad one. Can I sleep here?”
“Of course,” Harry murmured, then glanced over at Theo. “Shit, sorry, is that okay? She gets nightmares and then can’t be alone after.”
“Completely,” Theo assured them both.
Hermione crept forward and Harry lifted the covers, welcoming her into the curl of his body. She sniffed, a little watery, and Harry shushed her soothingly. Theo’s heart ached, both with the evidence of the lingering effects of the war and at the solace they’d found in each other.
Hermione cried for a minute or two, Harry humming a soft, tuneless sound, the sort of thing someone who’d never heard a lullaby might do. Theo’s absent songs of comfort were the same.
He tucked himself back behind Harry, nuzzling into the strength of his boyfriend's back, wedging his hands between them, safe and warm.
Theo had almost fallen asleep again when Harry’s Floo activated again. Theo felt Harry stiffen slightly with awareness but he didn’t let go of Hermione.
“I’ll go check,” Theo whispered, pressing a comforting hand to Harry’s back as he rolled away.
But before he could so much as throw back the covers, the bedroom door opened again.
“Theo?” Draco’s voice was tentative, careful and unsure.
“I’m here,” Theo assured him, and then to Harry explained, “He gets nightmares too.”
“Sorry.” Draco was pulling the door shut. “I’ll be fine. Didn’t mean to bother you.”
“How’d he—?” Harry began, voice hushed to not wake Hermione.
“We track each other,” Theo supplied. “Have done for years. Is it okay? If he’s admitting he needs me—"
The low note of understanding from Harry was everything to Theo.
“Of course. Go get him.”
Theo kissed Harry’s cheek and slid out of bed, catching Draco by the Floo powder pot.
“Draco,” Theo called softly. “It’s okay, come here.”
Draco resisted for the space of a breath but his shoulders sagged when Theo wrapped his arms around them, and then he was burying his face in Theo’s embrace.
“Bad one,” he muttered. “Fucking terrible one.”
Theo made a sympathetic sound. “Come cuddle.”
“This is Potter’s house.”
Theo chuckled. “It is. It’s okay.”
“This is humiliating.”
Theo clucked his tongue. “It’s not. And anyway, you’re not the first: Hermione’s here, too.”
Draco sighed. Sniffed. Raised his head and nodded.
They were quiet as they crept back into Harry’s bedroom. Theo could just barely make out the shape of them under the covers, Hermione’s soft, muffled snores the only sound. Beside him, Draco relaxed.
Theo got in bed first, making space. Draco toed his boots off and slipped in behind him, immediately curling around Theo and hugging him to his chest. He pressed his face to Theo’s neck and took a shuddering breath.
Harry reached back, finding Theo’s hand and squeezing. Theo interlaced their fingers, pressing his lips in a quick kiss to Harry’s shoulder.
They were quiet and Theo, finally, fell all the way asleep.