Sober Thoughts
The sun burned through Harry’s curtains, blinding Draco as he gradually woke up. He felt dizzy, his hangover made the room spin. As his eyes adjusted to the burning sunlight, the foggy memories from last night became clearer.
He’d kissed Harry.
And Harry liked it.
He hoped, at least.
He could hardly sit himself up, Harry’s arms around his waist tightening their grip. He turned over his shoulder, the Gryffindor was still deep in sleep. He looked so peaceful like that, so full of comfort. It gave Draco butterflies.
He felt nauseous. He wasn’t sick, definitely not. But being here in Harry Potter’s bed made him sick to his stomach. What if everything last night was a mistake. What if it was a drunken choice. What if Harry had moved on already, and only kissed him after he drank.
“Good morning,” A groggy voice spooked him. Harry had sat up too now, albeit very slowly, wrapping his arms around Draco’s shoulder. Hes sluggish, clearly knocked around by his hangover as well.
Draco doesn’t respond. He can’t. If he tries, he may vomit. Instead he just slips deeper into Harry’s grasp.
Harry turns him on his side, taking his face in his hands and planting soft kisses on his cheeks and nose. Draco can’t get enough of how gentle he’s being with him, he feels so delicate.
“My head hurts,” Harry mumbled into his forehead as he kissed it. Draco bit his tongue, simply nodding. His headache was killing him too.
Draco’s stomach wasn’t settling with him whatsoever. But he wasn’t sick, nope no way. It was just the idea of Harry leaving, realizing that all that happened the night before was a mistake, a drunken one at that.
Maybe he was sick.
“I think I’m gonna puke,” Draco blurted out, rushing off the bathroom. Harry followed behind, trying to keep up with him, worried groups of words passing his lips. Draco panicked, kneeling over the toilet as his stomach gave in. He felt Harry’s fingers slide through his scalp, holding his hair back. He could feel the gentle hand rubbing circles on his back as he vomited. In all honesty, it was a bit refreshing to have normal vomit without blood and flower petals. Sort of, anyway.
His heartbeat rang in his ears, the room seemed to be spinning. All the while Harry was whispering sweet nothings and reassurance over his shoulder. A constant ‘you’re okay, it’s okay’ echoing on the walls.
Harry handed him a glass of water, telling him to take little sips of it. Draco nodded weakly, embarrassed by the scene he just caused. The lump in his throat burned, an odd feeling of tears bugging him. Harry was sitting on the bathroom floor next to him, a tentative hand still placed on his lower back, comforting him.
“Did you drink a lot last night?”
“I.. I dont remember.”
“Well what do you remember?”
Draco thought for a moment. He remembered watching Harry all night, even if he didn’t show it. He remembered longing for him, wanting to dance with him and hold his hand. He remembered kissing him, the feeling of kissing him. Of being in his arms.
“I remember kissing you,” He mumbled, his cheeks feeling warm along with the burning fever on his forehead.
Harry smiled, “thank Merlin.” He placed a kiss on Draco’s forehead. “If you hadn’t, I think I would have lost it.”
Biting his tongue didn’t help, Draco burst into tears. Harry was quick to rush to his side, guiding him out of the bathroom and onto his bed. All the while rubbing a safe hand on his back.
“What’s the matter?”
“I feel stupid.”
“Why?”
Draco struggled to calm his breathing. He felt himself hyperventilating, a panicking feeling settling in his now empty stomach. “Im scared, I guess. I mean, fuck, what if you’re just going to leave. Now that you’re sober. What if this was all just because you were drunk?”
“I’m not going to leave you, Draco,” Harry promised. He placed gentle kisses on Draco’s cheeks and forehead.
Draco crumpled, melting into his arms and lying his head in his lap. “I feel like shit.”
“Make up your mind, do you feel stupid or do you feel like shit,” Harry snickered, tossling the blonde’s hair between his fingers.
“Can’t it just be both?”
Harry leaned down, chuckling as planted a peck on Draco’s temple. “It’s eight in the morning, why not we just sleep in till two?”
Draco’s gaze shifted, making sideways eye contact with the brunette. He scowled for a moment. The boy who broke his heart was now here, kissing him, taking care of him. And he was scared this was temporary. Harry couldn’t expect sleep to help him now, right?
But then again, if this were only temporary, the he’d want as much lovey time with Harry as possible. Passing out in a bed all tangled together in the sheets sounded pretty nice.
Screw it!
“Fine.”
Hours ticked away like minutes. Harry had nuzzled himself in the crook of Draco’s neck. Meanwhile Draco had his arms firmly around Harry’s torso, resting his chin atop Harry’s head.
He awoke around twelve, Harry now lying across his lap in a weird twisted pretzel position.
Draco climbed out of bed, sneaking out of his bedroom and into the common room. He wasn’t the most well dressed for other human interaction, his pants unbuttoned and barely hanging around his waist. Harry’s sweatshirt kept them from falling.
“Did you two fuck?”
Draco practically jumped out of his skin, slipping one finger through his pant loop to keep them up. He looked over the banister, peering down at the red couches of the Gryffindor common room.
Atop one of them sat Ron Weasley.
“Did you hear me, I asked if you two fucked?” He shouted again.
Draco rushed down the staircase. Whispering in a shout sort of way, he gritted his teeth. “Keep your fucking voice down, Weasel.”
“You can’t be a bitch to me if you’re fucking my best friend,” Ron spat back, matching Draco’s whispery tone.
“We didn’t fuck so stop saying that.”
“What, ashamed of being accused of fucking Harry Potter? Think you’re too good for him?”
Draco lifted a brow, “Now it just feels like you’re messing with me.” He slowly took a seat on the other couch when he saw the redhead crack a smile.
Ron laughed, “I am, but I’m allowed to. You’re all Harry’s talks about anymore. It was driving me nuts.”
Stunned by his complaints, Draco felt himself blush. Had he really been all Harry could think about? He knew the Gryffindor missed him, sure, but really? All he talks about anymore?
Ron leaned back on the sofa, setting his legs on the table in front of him. “So..”
“So what?”
“So what did you guys do, then?”
“Ask Harry, weirdo.”
“Harry’s never gonna tell me all that, he’s too shy about it,” Ron whined. “Cmon, you don’t have to give me all the details, just the basics.”
His lungs lost all sort of air they had in them. Draco found it hard to look at Weasley, his face feeling hot. “What the hell am I supposed to say? We just sort of fooled around, nothing escalated.”
“Boring,” Ron groaned, exaggerating his eye roll.
“Fuck off!”
“Can you two keep it down?” Hermione shouted in the same whispery tone that Draco used previously from over the banister. Her hair was a wreck, it was poofy and knotted. She had dark circles under her eyes. “Some of us are trying to sleep off a hangover.”
“Sorry Mione,” Ron raised his hands up in defense, a sheepish look on his face. She huffed, storming off back to her room.
Draco hugged a nearby pillow, leaning closer to the warm fire that was still lit. “I feel fucked in the head.”
“Why do you say that,” Ron lowered himself moreso onto the couch, leaning his head on another pillow.
“I just feel like there’s something wrong with me. Like I’m not even supposed to love him, y’know?” Draco began ranting, his focus now caught on the bookshelves behind Ron to keep himself from making eye contact.
Ron waved a hand in front of his gaze, “What do you mean? You don’t actually love him?”
“No I do!” Draco protested, hands in front of him in refute, “I do, I do, I swear! But I don’t know if I deserve to. I mean what if all the shit that happened last night was because of the alcohol?”
The redhead laughed, “If that were the case, you’d need to remind yourself that drunken actions are always just sober thoughts.” Draco gave him a scowl, hugging the pillow tighter to his chest.
“I can’t do all this ‘love’ shit,” Draco groaned, “the only romance I’ve ever had was with a Durmstrang and it wasn’t anything more than a fuck around. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“Well now you’re just being ‘Malfoy’,” Ron teased, imitating his tone when he said his name.
Draco scoffed, “Shove it up your rear, you don’t get it.”
“No, but I do get Harry.”
Draco’s thoughts had changed, that was true. Ron did know Harry, better than anyone in fact. “I’m listening.”
“Look, mate, you think you’re inexperienced? Harry’s only ever kiss was with Cho Chang and she ended up with a Slytherin the next month. My sister liked him, sure, but the bloke is into blokes. It was obvious. He’s almost more of a virgin than I am,” Ron chuckled.
“Okay, gross-“I’m just giving you the facts, you two make sense together. And.. and you did almost die for him,” The redhead pointed out.
He was right, Draco would be dead if things hadn’t changed. And it hit him. He so easily almost gave up his life for Harry. He gave up everything for him.
“Hermione said Malfoy is here!”
Startled, Draco looked up at banister to see a clump of Gryffindors staring down at him. He recognized most of them, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lavender Brown. Even the bloody Weasley Twins. They all eagerly rushed down the stairs, stealing seats on the couch. It was a whirl of jokes and giggles that seemed to fluster around him.
The twins took a spot on either side of him, one of them asking “Did you two get nasty last night?”
Draco retorted, “Why would you even ask that-“Cause he’s our friend and we want to know,” Lavender interrupted.
Harry’s friends began jumping him with dozens of questions. The blush on his face only worsened with every word. The group was acting the way he usually did with his mates, it was almost too embarrassing to endure.
“What’s Harry like in bed?”
“Does he even know how to kiss?”
“Can you tell if he’s a virgin or not?”
Draco was burying his face into the pillow he was squeezing, blush burning his cheeks. The Weasley twins were poking fun at him while his other friends began sprouting theories about the events of last night.
“Cmon, you’ll kill him if you keep this up.”
That voice pricked at his eardrums. Draco looked up to see a still very sleepy Harry standing at the edge of the two couches.
And his friends did listen, partly. But instead of bombarding Draco with questions, they began to question Harry.
Draco could hardly think over the butterflies in his stomach. Harry was now burning red, arguing over the allegations and extremely personal questions his friends were squawking at him.
“Enough! I’m taking my boyfriend back to bed before you kill us both,” He shouted, grabbing Draco’s wrist.
The group fell silent, before shouting in unison. “Boyfriend?!”
And suddenly more comments and questions began bouncing off the walls whilst Harry raced with Draco up the stairs. Draco’s head was spinning, he was so damn flustered. They could hardly escape the dozens of teases from the Gryffindors till Hermione burst out of her room and lost it. “Shut the bloody hell up before I turn you all into toadstools!”
Finally safe in Harry’s bedroom, the Gryffindor tugged Draco into a deep kiss. Too shaky to keep himself upright, Draco stumbled up against Harry’s door, the brunette still hot on his lips. He simply couldn’t breathe, he was too flustered.
He tugged away from air, Harry doing the same. “I’m sorry about.. about them.”
Draco snickered, “Please, they aren’t as bad as all the shit I’ve been through this year.”
Harry’s face changed. He looked sad, almost guilty. He took Draco by the hand and led him back over to his bed. Draco pushed him on the bed and tried to kiss him again, to keep things light. But Harry refused.
Sitting up, he begged “tell me about it. The disease, I mean.”
Draco’s heart caught in his throat. “Harry, I can’t-“Please, I want to know.”
They sat in silence for a moment before he caved. “It was like a terribly long cold that simply wouldn’t go away.”
Harry nodded, lying his head on Draco’s shoulder as he listened. He continued, “I was like a ticking time bomb. If I got too emotional, I’d burst into a coughing fit. And there were so many petals, everywhere. I am still disposing of them from my dorm. And whole flowers were the worst, they were much more painful.”
“I had no idea,” Harry muttered, much quieter than he was before.
Draco shrugged, struggling to continue talking. He dug up everything, every little fact, every painful detail. And Harry listened, his head lying in Draco’s lap. It was a comfort for him, to play with the Gryffindor’s messy curls while he spoke.
When he was finished and trembling from head to toe, Harry said nothing. But gently cupped his cheeks and kissed him. It was soft, much softer than any kisses their shared last night. It sent sparks directly to Draco’s stomach, the tender lick of Harry’s tongue on his lips as the kiss deepened making his brain fuzzy.
He tugged away from the brunette, “Did I hear you correctly? You called me your boyfriend?”
Harry snickered, “I guess I didn’t properly ask you, but yes. I want you to be my boyfriend, if you’re up for it.”
Draco lifted a brow, not completely convinced. He looked over the Gryffindor with a skeptical look upon his face.
“I’m not sure,” He muttered nonchalantly, getting up from the bed and folding his arms as he walked around Harry’s room. It was clear he was giving him a run for his money. He couldn’t make it so easy for him, no could he? “This seems a little informal.”
“And what wouldn’t be informal?” Harry asked, following behind him and taking his hand. Draco felt himself blush, looking down at Harry’s fingers intertwined with his.
“A date,” He announced, “A proper one.”
Tugging him by his wrist, Harry pulled Draco into a much sluttier kiss. He pushed the blonde against the door, pinning his hands on either side of his head. Draco moaned into the kiss, almost unable to breathe from how overwhelmed he was. Harry pulled away from the kiss, letting the Slytherin gasp for air.
He snickered, “I can do that.”
Finally able to breathe, Draco rolled his eyes. “I doubt that.”
“I promise! Let me take you on a date, tomorrow night.”
This was simply a dream. Draco was dreaming and surely, Blaise and Pansy would burst into his room to wake him up. This couldn’t be real.
“You’ve just been staring at me blankly for about two minutes, is that a yes?” Harry teased, a bit a nervousness behind his voice. It was a bit obvious he was nervous about being rejected.
Shaking his head to sort of snap out of his trance, he mumbles an apology. “Sorry, I just- I- yes! Yes, that sounds lovely. Yes.”
He couldn’t help himself before he was pulling Harry back onto the bed with him, slamming their lips together once more. He’d rather die of a loss of oxygen than pull away from the brunette, he couldn’t get enough of him.
His taste was intoxicating, his lips were warm. Draco was quick to latch his fingers onto his hair, tugging him closer to him.
Harry forced himself off Draco’s lips, kissing downwards towards his neck. Draco slapped a hand over his mouth to shut himself up as he felt Harry’s teeth dig into his collarbone, sucking on his flesh. He was squirming like a bloody idiot, he was sure he was a blushing mess.
Forcing him down, Harry sucked on his neck. He felt the blonde struggle against him, muffled whimpers and moans flooding his ears.
Feeling satisfied with the damage he’d done, he pulled away from Draco’s collarbone. Taking a glance at his fine work, he smiled. He’d bruised Draco’s pale skin pretty well, a purpleish red hickey prominent against his ghostly complexion.
Draco escaped his grasp, running to the bathroom to examine himself in the mirror.
“Potter, what the fuck!”
All Harry did was laugh.
“I look like I’ve been attacked by a vampire,” He shouted to him as he joined him in the bathroom.
“Guilty,” Harry snickered, pressing a kiss on his cheek.