Draco and Harry have been in a strange relationship this past month or two.
Only a few months prior, Draco was trying to not have a mental breakdown with every step he took and to not burn his whole left arm off.
He had spent more nights in the library in his king-sized bed in the Slytherin dorms, tirelessly researching to please the Dark Lord and, as a result, save his mother and father. He had skipped countless meals, and those meals that he did attend were spent worrying about the time he was wasting. His grades dropped drastically as well, which meant that Draco had no choice but to quit the Quidditch team he loved so much to be on. His status as the 'prince' of Slytherin fell as well, allowing him to stop keeping up his old public appearances.
In a matter of weeks, Draco lost everything he thought he'd been entitled to since he was a child: safety, admiration, and happiness.
Not that Draco really cared though.
He'd just been grateful that he was granted more time to do the task.
And then Harry came along, professing his undying love for him in the middle of the corridors when Draco finally gained enough courage to tell him off for stalking him.
Of course, Draco didn't believe him. Now, he did. But before, he didn't.
After all, how could he?
There were just so many things wrong with Harry confessing to him that Draco nearly thought that he should be sent to St. Mungo's just because of it.
For example, there was the very fact that Draco and Harry antagonized each other from the very moment that they met.
They fought like cats and dogs who have seen a small piece of chicken after having been been starved for months on end.
Draco has manipulated, degraded, hexed, and downright insulted everything Harry held dear to his bloody face— Draco would have once referred to it as him bullying Harry, Weasley, and Granger, but he knew that they most definitely gave as good as they got.
So… to hear Harry say that he was in love with him, previously daily tormentor and now exhausted Death Eater, was almost laughable.
And so Draco laughed in his face before flipping him off.
Harry had had the most offended look on his face, which Draco learned later only solidified Harry's resolve to convince him of his sincerity.
After the confession, Harry followed him around everywhere, barely giving him a moment's reprieve, and nagging him about everything he was too exhausted to think of.
Hence, because of a single thing, Draco's entire life had been turned on its heels again.
Harry demonstrated his love and his care time and time again, surprising him over and over again by thoughtfully doing minuscule things for him.
He walked Draco to class and to the library, floating food to his plate if and when Draco decided he needed to eat and pouring him water constantly like if Draco didn't have a single sip of water every two minutes or so, he was going to die.
He paid attention to Draco, ignoring his little temper tantrums whenever Harry refused to give him enough alone time to work on the Dark Lord's task.
He cracked stupid jokes, shrugged with a smile when Weasley sent him concerned looks, and put his arm around Draco's shoulders and waist far too casually.
He added surprisingly intelligent insights to whatever Draco deigned good enough to speak of with him, and he praised him on getting even half of an assignment down.
'Potter' became 'Harry' without him realizing and left him wondering when such a change was made.
Days of this turned into weeks, and weeks slowly blossomed into months.
By the start second month, Draco realized Harry was being serious about his confession and his heart actually thudded against his chest traitorously whenever he thought of it.
By the third, Draco was convinced he was learning how to love.
So on the one day Harry had to study for his Divination test with Weasley— he wasn't actually studying but it didn't matter to Draco— Draco politely addressed him and asked to speak to him in private.
Harry, with wide eyes of both bewilderment and— confusingly— terror, followed him.
Harry stepped into the abandoned classroom first, striding towards one of the windows that had the starry night gazing down on him beautifully. He didn't turn around when he reached the window; instead, he held himself up rigidly and kept his eyes soley on the glittering moon.
It gave Draco the minute he needed to regain his bearings and become more sure that this was really what he wanted to do.
And he did.
So he stepped towards Harry.
His eyes were watery and his breath was shaky, but his smile was steady as he stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.
Draco buried his face in the impossible-to-tame hair for the first time, whispering about how sorry he was.
How Draco hadn't believed Harry before when he said that he loved him; how Draco know understood what he meant. How rven though he wasn't yet, he thought it would be easy to fall in love with him as well.
His voice full of raw wonder and hope, and thick emotion that made it sound like this was his most precious secret.
And, in a way, it was.
Draco had never fallen in love with anyone before.
He'd always been selfish and undeserving of it; he'd always pushed people too far away from him the moment he felt the slightest hint of it.
Harry didn't make him seem selfish or undeserving.
Harry made love seem easy to accept.
He made Draco feel like he was worthy of redemption, of love, of happiness regardless of their brutal history. It was rejuvenating to have someone who had seen the darkest, most awful parts of him and still claim to love him.
So he felt that although he wasn't yet, it wouldn't be a chore to fall in love with Harry at all.
And Harry, who had been thinking of Ginny the whole time and how relieved he was than his plan to manipulate Draco into confiding in him all about Voldemort's plans for the war, had never been more thankful that Draco couldn't see his face when he realized he couldn't say 'I love you' back.