The Silence of Your Love

Hermione and Ron sat on either side of Harry, faces close to each of his ears. Harry, frowning, nodded slowly as the two started screaming at the top of their lungs. After a few moments of silence, he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I think you ruined whatever was left of my eardrums,” he said, standing up, putting his hands to his ears, then turning around to look at them again. “This is ridiculous. I thought you guys believed me.”

“We do,” Hermione said while signing with her hands, looking over to Ron.  “It’s just so hard to process… You really couldn’t hear our screaming?”

“If I could, I think I’d have punched you both by now,” he sighed, sitting down across from the two. “I thought the first five times we tested it would be enough for you to process, though.”

“Harry,” she gently placed her hand on his, making sure to enunciate, “You’ll get through this.” 

Ron nodded. “You’re really brave, you know. I wouldn’t have been able to handle all of this,” he said while signing the same thing. Although their signing wasn’t as good as his, he was still grateful that they had been willing to learn - most of the Weasleys now knew basic sign language, too.

“Thanks again for letting me stay with you for the summer,” he smiled softly, squeezing their hands then letting go, turning to look outside the window. They were already on their way back to Hogwarts. Over the summer, Harry, Ron and Hermione all started to learn WSL, which was Wizarding Sign Language. With a bit of research Hermione learned that it was almost the same as British sign language, only with extra signs for Wizard terms.

Judging by the look on his face, Ron and Hermione both decided it was better to leave him be for the moment.

Meanwhile, in another carriage, Pansy Parkinson sat down, almost regretting doing so because she knew she had walked in on one of Draco’s rants - but not just any rant. It was the twinkle in his eyes that appeared whenever he talked about Harry.

“I mean, do you honestly believe he’s deaf?” He scoffed, waving away the treat Crabbe offered him. “Seriously. It’s definitely all just an act to make people gain sympathy for him. I don’t believe it one bit.”

Pansy frowned. “I mean, I just walked past their carriage. Ron and Hermione were signing to him, so…”

“Well, they can’t be caught slipping up, can they?” he spat, looking at her with disgust, folding his arms. “Don’t tell me you believe that poor excuse of a wizard. And don’t even get me started on his lie about the Dark Lord being back. All of this is just to make everyone pity him, to get them on his side.” 

“Draco,” She sighed, almost in a disappointed tone, but she didn’t say anything further. She knew it was better to just nod along with his rants about Harry. He was impossible to reason with once he had his mind made up about him.

***

“We have tried to the best of our capabilities to make all of your classes easier for you,” Professor McGonagall said. Harry looked over to Hermione who was signing what McGonagall was saying. “Most of the teachers will write down anything important on the board for you. If you are having any difficulty with keeping up with the classes, please come to Dumbledore or myself.” 

Harry nodded, turning to look at her. “Thank you, Professor.”

She smiled at him almost sympathetically, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Well, run along now. You’ve a feast to get to.”

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, Draco kept glancing over to the Gryffindor table, sulking. Pansy, beside him, tugged at the sleeve of his robe. “What’s the issue now?” she asked, following his gaze to see if he had something to say about Potter again.

“Where’s Potter?” he folded his arms. “This is stupid.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then nudged him when she saw Harry, Ron and Hermione entering. Draco turned - the Gryffindor table was just behind him. “There they are. Wouldn’t be surprised if they got held up by something. If those three are missing, something’s always bound to go wrong.”

Draco snickered, pushing his hair out of his eyes as his stony eyes finally met Harry’s. “You could say that again,” he murmured, then waved almost menacingly. “Can’t hear me, can you, Potter?” He raised his voice.

Harry’s eyes moved down to his lips, trying to understand what he said. Frowning, he turned back to Hermione who had tapped him on the shoulder. He wondered what Draco said, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. By the look on everyone’s faces, it seemed that no one believed that he was deaf. 

The next morning was dreadful. Harry woke up to the sun shining on his face. Since it seemed alarm clocks - or the chatter of his roommates - would not wake him up, he had to sleep with the curtains of his bed open. Blinking, he slowly put his glasses and got ready.

He was walking down the hallway with Hermione, on his way to his first class of the day. 

“Potter!” came Draco’s voice from behind. “Potter!”

Hermione looked over to Harry, who was continuing to walk, unfazed. She finally nudged him when Draco said his name a third time. He stopped walking, confused, following her gaze.

“Really committing to this act, aren’t you?” he said, folding his arms as he took a step forward towards the two. “You always need the attention to be on you, don’t you? First it was Cedric’s death… and now these stupid lies you’re spreading around. You could at least try to have a year where the spotlight isn’t on you.”

Harry helplessly looked over to Hermione, who winced, then translated what he was saying in sign language. He rolled his eyes, turning to look at the white-haired teenager in front of him, trying to ignore the small crowd that had formed.

“You know, there is one reason I’m glad I’m deaf, Malfoy,” Harry took a step forward, sizing him up. He was unsure of how loud his voice was or if his speech was comprehensible, but at that moment, he didn’t seem to care. “I don’t need to listen to any of your bullshit anymore. Though, four years was enough for your God-awful voice to come in my nightmares.”

There were a few low whistles and Draco’s eyes widened for a moment, before gulping, glaring at Harry. “You’re not fooling anyone with this,” he hissed in a low voice, almost as if he was trying to control himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare to,” he mocked, nudging Hermione, who was shooting daggers at Draco.

After their first DADA class with Umbridge, the three were already tired of Umbridge and her stupidity. Ron and Hermione sat down beside Harry, who kept his eyes on the fireplace, expression blank.

“No one believes me, do they?” he muttered, looking over to his friends. “I can’t believe I got detention from Umbridge because she thinks I’m not really deaf.”

“Well, it was also because of what you said about You-Know-Who,” Hermione pointed, then pursed her lips when Harry rolled his eyes. “Sorry.”

“You should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face. He looked so smug. I bet he’s boasting about it now,” he chewed on his lip anxiously, then stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

“But Harry, we haven’t even had dinner yet,” Ron started, but Harry looked away, shrugging as he left for the boys’ dormitories. He exchanged glances with Hermione, who looked just as concerned as he did.

It seemed that this year was not going to go well.

“I’m going to regret asking, but...” Pansy said as she sat down beside Draco in the Slytherin Common Room, “why are you reading that book if you don’t believe he’s deaf? And where did you get it?”

Draco rolled his eyes when she grabbed the book from his hands, scanning the cover that said ‘Wizarding Sign Language for Beginners’. She opened it and flipped through some of the pages, seeing that he had left all sorts of notes and bookmarks. Blaise, who had entered with her, was peeking over her shoulder, snorting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were learning sign language to communicate better with Harry,” she smirked. “Look at all these notes! You’d think you were taking this as a second language.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he yanked the book out of her hands, dusting it carefully as if she had made it dirty, holding it close to his chest. A devious smile on his lips, he chuckled to himself. “I’m learning it just so I can make fun of him.”

“Seems like you’re trying a little too hard to get his attention,” Blaise chuckled, quietening down when he earned a dirty look from Draco.

“So… you accept that he’s actually deaf?” she raised an eyebrow, not bothering to ask why he needed to learn sign language to make fun of Harry. Draco gulped, staring at her for a few moments, unsure of what to say, before shaking his head aggressively.

“What? I didn’t say that. I just- um--” he cleared his throat awkwardly, standing up and dumping the book inside his book bag. “Shut up, Pansy. You know I don’t believe that stupid Gryffindork. Now let’s go for breakfast.”

She gave Blaise a knowing look, following after Draco. “Whatever you say…”

In the Great Hall, Harry kept his head low. Most of the people he had liked to call friends before were now ignoring him and there was nothing he could do about it. If they thought he was lying about Cedric and him being deaf, that was their problem… right?

He jumped when Ron tapped him on the shoulder, then sighed irritatedly. “What?”

“Nothing, just… you should eat. You didn’t eat dinner last night either,” Ron said, using one hand to eat and the other to sign. Harry nodded, picking up the toast on his plate, taking his time. 

“Don’t worry about what everyone thinks,” Hermione told him. “You’ll always have us. Oh, by the way, the package from my parents finally arrived.” She handed Harry a small package. Ron watched in disappointment. 

“Do I get a gift too?” he asked.

“Shut up Ron,” she snapped. “Open it.”

Harry looked up at her. “This might be a huge waste of money…” he said, carefully opening it and taking out the hearing aids, hand trembling slightly. 

“It can’t hurt to try. I know there’s no sort of cure or hearing aids in the Wizarding World, so…” She looked at him, practically urging him to try it on.

“What is that?” Ron asked, trying to take it from Harry’s hands, who slapped them away. “Hey!”

“It’s a Muggle device, Ron,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It usually helps people hear, but… since this was the result of some sort of dark magic, I’m not sure if it will work,” she explained, watching Harry stare down at them.

Putting it closer to his ear, he quickly put it back in its case, shaking his head. “Maybe later…”

Hermione nodded. “Okay. Try them whenever you feel ready.”

He smiled at them gratefully. If there was one thing he could take away from all of this, it was that Ron and Hermione really did care for him. While it was disappointing to see not many others did, he decided he had to get over it and focus on the bigger issue - Voldemort.

As the three made their way to their first class, Potions, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances when they heard Draco call Harry’s name.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione mumbled, continuing to walk. Ron nodded. The two really weren’t in the mood to see Draco and Harry fight again. “Yesterday already caused somewhat of a crowd.”

“Potter,” Draco repeated agitatedly, catching up with him. He tugged at his robe. Startled, Harry turned around, then cursed under his breath. “Look at this,” he signed.

He gave him a quizzical look, exchanging glances with Hermione, who seemed confused too. “What do you want?”

He stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Right, okay,” he said, then started to sign ‘you’re a dumbass’ to Harry, who wasn’t sure if he should laugh or get mad. He settled on the latter.

“I know you’re trying to prove me to be the idiot here,” Harry gestured to Draco’s hands, “but the only person who looks pathetic is the one trying to bully the deaf teenager. I don’t think you thought this one through.”

“ Pathetic?” he sneered, folding his arms. “Potter, the only one who’s pathetic here is you, thinking that we’d believe your lies.”

“For the last time, Malfoy,” Harry wasn’t the best at lip reading, but he could make do when all that came out of Draco’s mouth was the same bullshit. He shoved him backwards, “I’m not lying. If you can’t accept that, please whine about it to someone who actually cares. Seriously, learning sign language? You’re such a pathetic git.”

Draco glared at him. “You’ll regret this, Potter.”

“I’m shaking,” Harry mocked, then looked up to see the crowd that had formed. Before the other could retaliate, Professor McGonagall had shown up, practically screaming for everyone to make their way to their classes. 

***

“Aren’t you worried about what Malfoy might do?” Hermione frowned as they sat down in the Hall for lunch. “He’s been surprisingly quiet since your… dispute last week.”

“What was that word?” Harry asked, staring at her hands. 

“Oh, um, dispute,” Hermione signed it for him again, then once more slowly, smiling proudly. “I just learned it yesterday.”

“I think you’re ahead of me in WSL now,” he said, and the two exchanged a small smile. “Anyway, he can do whatever he likes. He’s a coward, really. The worst he could do is learn more insults in sign language.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ron shrugged, “but I agree with you.”

“I honestly think we should just forget he exists,” Harry nodded.

“Must be easy for you, since you can’t hear him. Though, I must say, this past week without his stupid loud rambling has been quite peaceful,” Hermione pointed out.

“Rambling?” Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyes sliding over to Draco, who seemed to be laughing while talking to his friends.

“Yeah, he kept talking about you the first few days. Don’t even get me started on the stupid rumors floating around because of him.”

“I don’t even want to know…” he sighed, head in his hands. Harry was starting to make it a habit to sign while he spoke. It felt more natural to him this way, and it helped him become more comfortable with sign language. “I just don’t understand what his deal is. I never… I never wanted to be enemies with him.” 

Ron simply gave him an apologetic look. “It’s not you. He’s the problem.”

But was that true? Harry wondered how different things would be if he accepted his friendship on his first day at Hogwarts. Well, he certainly wouldn't be friends with Hermione or Ron, and that in itself sounded like a nightmare.

Hermione nudged his shoulder. Harry finally snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at her. “Just… be careful the next few days.” 

He shrugged, unsure of what Draco could even do. The worst had already happened to him. It would be hard to top. 

*** 

“Where is he?” Draco said, clutching something in his hands tightly. “You said he exited the building!” 

“Just wait,” Blaise replied, folding his arms.  “I saw him coming. He looked mad.”

He smirked. “Good.”

“Draco, don’t you think this is a little too much?” Pansy asked, frowning. “This doesn’t seem like a good idea-”

“Shh! He’s here!” he pushed Pansy out of his way, quickly making his way near the Great Lake. “Potter! Oh, right,” he muttered, turning to walk over to him, but it seemed Harry was already charging towards him. 

“Where is it?” He asked, nostrils flaring. “This isn’t funny.”

Draco tried to keep his laughter in. “I have no idea what you’re talking-- oof!” he balanced himself as Harry pushed him backwards. The white-haired teenager felt somewhat satisfied. He had hit a nerve - good. He went near the edge of the water, holding the hearing aids out. “Alright, that’s it. I don’t know what this stupid thing is, but I might as-”

“Don’t,” Harry bursted, frowning, stepping closer to him carefully, too panicked to even try and understand what he was saying. “Draco, don’t. Please.”

“Should’ve thought of that before you decided to get on my nerves,” he fumed, backing away from the lake, then throwing the hearing aids the furthest he could. Harry watched in awe as it sank into the water, frozen for a moment. Then he turned to Draco, a stone-cold expression on his face. He practically ripped off the robes that seemed to hold him back, grabbing Draco by the collar and pushing him against the nearby tree. 

“You dickhead,” he cried out in anger, slapping him in the face, tugging at his shirt. “What did I ever do to you? What did I ever…” he felt tears stinging in his eyes, chest aching. “What did I ever do to…”

“Malfoy, Potter!” Professor McGonagall practically shouted, running towards the two. Draco, who was pale and clutching his cheek, seemed to have guilt written all over his face. Harry turned to see the professor, cursing under his breath, letting go of him. “Both of you, my office. Now !”

The two sat down on the chairs, both refusing to look at each other.

“Alright, you two,” McGonagall said as she entered the room, sitting down at her desk. “I am absolutely appalled by your behavior,” she said while signing. 

Harry stared at her, eyebrows knitted. “You know WSL?”

“Of course. Anyway,” she fumed, continuing to sign, “what is the reason behind this? This is the third time this week I have heard of a commotion between you two. It has come to my attention that it has been because of you, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco gulped. He knew he had taken it too far. The fleeting satisfaction had left and the regret was starting to settle. He shook his head. “I didn’t mean-”

“However, you did anyway,” she snapped, folding her arms. “Detention. Three weeks. And fifty points from Slytherin.”

“Three?” he echoed, outraged. 

“Mr. Potter, I would have been willing to overlook this due to your… unfortunate circumstances,” she said, “but you resorted to violence, and you already had detention from Professor Umbridge last week. Both of you will have three weeks of detention with me.”

Harry looked over at Draco in disgust. “I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

“Cut it out!” McGonagall snapped her fingers. “You two will not interact in the hallways or classes unless absolutely necessary. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Professor,” the two grumbled.

“Good. Now get to your classes,” she ordered. Draco stood up at once, quickly leaving. Harry lingered for a moment, and she sighed, placing the hearing aids on the table. “I managed to get it from the lake, but I’m uncertain how well they would work… are they Muggle hearing aids?”

“Yes,” he signed, picking it up, lower lip quivering as he tried putting it in his ear, sighing when he heard nothing. He took it out and pocketed it, looking back up at her. “Sorry, Professor.”

She looked at him almost empathetically, then dismissed him from her office.

“Bloody Hell, Harry,” Ron said. “I’ll kill him!” 

“Not before me,” Hermione replied, her nostrils flaring, feeling the anger boil her blood, clenching her fists tightly before signing, even though the person she was signing for was barely paying attention. “He’s such a… a… dickwad!” 

Harry kept his head low, fiddling with the hearing aids in his hands, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or upset, and that’s what made him feel even worse. “I didn’t even get to try them on…”

The three looked up, watching several of their classmates eye them suspiciously. Harry stood up and quickly left for his dorm, unable to take it anymore. Hermione and Ron quickly followed after.

He kicked his school trunk, setting the hearing aids down on his bedside table, feeling hot tears run down his face. “Fuck!” he screamed, shutting his eyes. He couldn’t even hear himself speak. He was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. “This is all Malfoy’s fault. I…” 

“Calm down,” Hermione signed, taking his hand gently and directing him to his bed, both of them sitting down. “Just breathe, okay?” Ron sat down on the floor in front of them, nodding reassuringly. “I know this is hard, but it will get better. And we’ll make sure that no one bothers you about this. Especially that dickwad.”

Harry sniffled, then nodded. “I hate him,” he signed. She quickly muttered a ‘me too’, then pulled him in for a hug, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

Pansy entered the Slytherin Common Room, shaking her head in disappointment when she saw Draco sitting there, sitting amongst his friends. As she approached, she realized that everyone was praising him, but he seemed anything but proud.

“That was hilarious, Draco,” Blaise laughed. “You should mess with Potter more often.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t,” he responded, folding his arms. “I suspect McGonagall will have me expelled for even looking at him now.”

“Well, it was worth it. Right?” Crabbe asked. Draco looked around at everyone, who were all waiting for an answer, then shrugged.

“Oh, it’s just about time for supper. We should get going,” Pansy said, checking her watch. Everyone stood up, continuing their conversation as they left, laughing and talking.  “Not you,” she snapped, grabbing Draco by the back of his shirt.

“What?” he asked, sitting down beside her on the couch. 

“Well? I was right, wasn’t I? That was not a good idea,” she fumed. “You’ve earned yourself three weeks in detention. Honestly, can’t you just be a normal person? Why’d you have to go and bully Harry?”

“I wasn’t bullying him,” he deflected, but scoffed. “Alright, I may have gone a bit too far with it. I suppose I was adamant on proving that he’s lying. I don’t like him at all, and I don’t think he deserves all the attention he gets, but…”

“But…?”

“...I don’t think he’s lying,” Draco stated quietly, almost as if he was afraid to say it. “I saw the look on his face. That’s when I knew I had taken it too far, and I realized that he wasn’t lying.”

Pansy didn’t respond. Instead, she smiled at him, as if she was proud of him.

“What do I do now?” he asked, his leg shaking.

“Well, for starters,” she jumped up, running a hand through her hair, “we eat dinner. Then, you let yourself stop obsessing over him, and maybe think about apologizing, if that’s something you want to do.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Apologize? Why would I do that?”

“Oh, right, you’ve probably never had to do that before. It’s called human decency, but it seems I’d need to educate you on that,” she said, laughing when Draco smacked her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, you’ll make up with your boyfriend in no time.”

“Pansy, I’m this close to pushing you off the Astronomy Tower,” he grumbled, too tired to argue with her.

***

“Alright, Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said as they entered the classroom, sitting as far from each other as possible. “For today’s detention, I need you to sort out these papers. They are test papers and homework. I will need you to organize each to one folder for one student.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry spoke suddenly. Judging by the looks on Draco and McGonagall’s faces, he had accidentally spoken too loudly again. “Um… I mean, never mind.”

“ Anyway … I have a meeting to get to. Do not make me regret leaving you two in a room alone together,” she said sternly, signing carefully so Harry could understand. “This will probably take some time, so don’t expect to finish it by today.”

“But Professor, couldn’t we use magic to get this done quicker?” Draco asked, frowning. 

“No. You are not to use magic for this. This is your punishment and I expect you to abide by the rules.”

Harry and Draco got to work. It was their fifth day of detention, and they had gotten quite used to ignoring each other’s existence. After all, Harry had sworn to himself he wouldn’t speak to him ever again. McGonagall had set them to similar tasks as the one they were doing currently, which meant they didn’t have to talk too often.

The first thirty minutes went by in silence. Draco snapped his fingers in front of Harry, who sighed irritatedly, giving him a confused look.

“Have you made a folder for Godfrey yet?” he asked. The brown haired boy stared in confusion. “Godfrey?” he repeated to no avail. “Uh…” he signed the letters that spelt the name rather messily, and Harry nodded, handing him the folder. 

“Why are you still learning sign language, Malfoy? Got another trick up your sleeve?” Harry asked, setting a folder to the side as he grabbed a few papers from the pile, sorting them out. “What are you gonna do next, break my glasses? News flash, you don’t need sign language to do that.” 

Draco inhaled sharply. “I deserve that,” he nodded.

“Oh, do you?” he folded his arms, smiling sarcastically.

He shook his head, gritting his teeth. “You know what? Can we just… not talk unless it’s to do with the work?”

“Works perfectly for me.”

Draco kept stealing glances at him. He’d expected Harry to chew him out, or blabber on about how annoying he was, but all he got was silence. The only sound in the room was the rustling of the papers, and he imagined what it was like for him, not being able to hear anything at all… not even his own voice.

McGonagall returned a few hours later, surprised. “Oh, you went further than I expected. You two may go to bed,” she said, nodding at the two of them. She seemed actually quite impressed with them.

“Potter,” Draco whispered as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway. He leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder lightly. Harry turned to him, seeming like he was about to snap his neck in half. “Um… I just… never mind,” he said, then quickly ran off. Harry watched him go, confused.

“How was detention?” Pansy asked as he entered her dorm. The Slytherins were having a party in the common room, but neither she nor Draco were in the mood to party. “Are you and Harry okay yet?”

He face palmed as he flopped down on Pansy’s bed dramatically. “I just can’t bring myself to apologize,” he said, pouting as he watched Pansy brush her hair, getting ready for bed. “I feel really bad, but… I don’t know… it feels weird.”

“Probably because it’s a new concept to you,” she rolled her eyes, applying chapstick to her lips. “Just try to say it earnestly, and make sure he knows you really mean it. That’s all I can say to you.”

Earnestly. He could do that, right? Since he really did mean it.

“Harry,” Draco whispered. McGonagall had just left the room, so this was his chance. It was the next day. They had a morning detention since it was Saturday. 

They were seated on the floor since it was more convenient for them. He leaned forward and lightly tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. “Um… I have something I need to say to you."

Adjusting his glasses, Harry leaned forward slightly, keeping his eyes on the other’s lips. “You have something you want to say?” he asked.

“Yes, um…” Draco put his hands forward. “I’m… sorry…” he said while signing.

Harry shook his head. “It’s actually on your chest.”

He looked down. “What’s on my chest?” 

“No,” he snorted. “You sign ‘sorry’ on your chest. Here, make a fist,” he scooted closer to Draco, taking his hand and making a fist, then putting it to his chest, who was taken aback. “Now move it in a circle.”

“Uh…” he paused for a second. Harry’s touch was soft - almost caring. He quickly shook off the feeling, signing it the way he had asked. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he nodded, seeming somewhat impressed, before clearing his throat, blinking. “I only helped because you’re so bad at WSL that I feel bad. Either way, I think we both know you don't mean it, so don’t use the sign.”

“But-”

“I trust that you are working, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall said as she entered the room. Draco jumped, scrambling back to his pile of papers while Harry simply turned back to his work, his face expressionless.

That night, he lied awake, unsure of how to feel. Obviously Draco didn’t mean it, right? How could he? He turned to the hearing aids on his bedside table, wondering if he would ever be able to hear ever again. Maybe he would be able to find a cure, but that would only be able to work if he knew what exactly happened. He had been too fixated on Cedric to realize he couldn’t hear anything until way after they got back to Hogwarts.

“Potter,” Draco said in a hushed tone. “Psst!” he waved his hand in front of Harry, who kept his eyes down on his paper, refusing to look up. Rolling his eyes, he stuck his leg out and kicked his foot lightly. 

Harry yelped, looking up. “What do you want?” he asked while kicking his foot back.

“Ow,” he said dramatically, then shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed, then turning back to his paper, only to be tapped on the shoulder again. “For the last time, Malfoy, I don’t need your apology.”

“But… I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Why don’t you just forgive me? This is weird. I thought apologies went ‘sorry’, ‘oh okay, I forgive you’.”

“The point of an apology is that you are sorry. Whether I forgive you or not is up to me. You seriously don’t  know anything, do you?” Harry snapped, setting down his quill. Their detention for Monday was just to finish off any homework. This meant they probably would have a huge workload given the next day, so he was sort of dreading it. “Besides, I thought I told you not to apologize if you don’t mean it.” 

“But I do mean it,” Draco urged, then looked away for a second, frowning. “Okay, what could I do to show you I mean it?”

Harry blinked in confusion. “Why do you need me to forgive you so badly?”

“Potter, I’m giving you the chance to do anything at all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Merlin!” He cried out, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Can’t you think of anything? At all?”

“Um-” 

“Come on, something-”

“Okay, fine, write me a poem!” he blurted, then frowned, contemplating what he just said. “Wait, no-”

“Pfft, a poem?” Draco folded his arms, snorting. “Easy, but if that means you forgive me-”

“Oh, really? Then write a poem for me every single day,” Harry challenged, narrowing his eyes. “Bet you aren’t that sorry.” 

“Bet I am,” he retorted. Professor McGonagall, who had been listening to this exchange just outside the classroom, found herself smiling as she entered. The two looked at her, wide-eyed, then quickly looking back down, picking up their quills.

***

Harry yawned, sulking as he stuffed his face with a sausage. “I am so tired,” he said. It was Tuesday morning and he was regretting procrastinating the essay Snape had set. “I only managed to finish the essay by one in the morning.”

“I did that as soon as it was set,” Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron, who was trying to hastily write the conclusion of his essay. “God, can’t you two be a little more organized? Haven’t I taught you anything?” She was signing so fast even Harry took a moment to understand what she was saying.

He turned back to his food, he winced when an owl pecked his hand to get his attention. “What?” he asked, seeing the letter attached to it. Hermione and Ron both looked at him strangely. He took it from the owl, who then quickly flew away.

“Who’s that letter from?” Hermione asked, trying to peek. Harry quickly turned away from her, opening the letter.

Since this is how I’m supposed to make it up to you,

I guess I have to write a poem or two

You can go ahead and deny

But my poetic skills are definitely high

I apologize for what I did

Just forgive me and stop acting like a kid!

How was that? Good enough? I like the rhyming.

D.M. 

He stared down at the poem. He didn’t imagine Draco would actually send such a thing, let alone write it. He felt himself smile, then quickly stopped, folding the paper and pocketing it. 

“What’s that all about?” Ron whispered to Hermione, who simply shrugged.

Harry finished off his breakfast, thinking to himself - he wasn’t about to let a stupid poem affect how he felt about Malfoy’s empty apology, was he?

“Another letter,” Hermione said, trying to take it from the owl, who quickly flew away from her and onto Harry’s shoulder. “Who keeps sending you these anyway?” she said, folding her arms.

“Just some secret admirers,” Harry said smoothly, taking the paper from the owl and smiling as he quickly left the Great Hall. He had taken a liking to Draco’s owl, who seemed to be much nicer than his owner.

“More like one secret admirer,” Ron commented, finishing up his breakfast and trying to take the letter from his hands. “That’s the same owl from the past few days, isn’t it? Can I read the paper?”

“You better not,” he quickly pocketed the paper after scanning through it. “I’m not too interested myself, so…”

“But someone likes you,” Ron raised an eyebrow. “If I were you I’d have gone mental trying to figure out who it is.”

“Like anyone would send you a letter, Ron,” Hermione laughed, high fiving Harry who also chuckled. “But you know, if this person is bothering you, we can get to the bottom of it.”

“I’m fine, but thank you,” he signed, too busy eating to speak this time.

They eventually made it to their first class of the day, which was Potions. Harry and Ron sat beside each other while Hermione sat beside someone else. She always said those two were too distracting to be around during Potions, so it wasn’t a surprise.

The class started and Harry watched Draco enter, ignoring his presence. It had been a few days, but Draco did not attempt to start any conversations with Harry during detention, nor did they acknowledge each other in the hallways.

He opened the letter, rolling his eyes at the corny poem as Snape started the lesson. Harry was having a hard time paying attention. It was hard to keep up with him while taking notes at the same time. Despite the notes being on the board, Snape did like to add detail while speaking and Harry was no where near perfect at lip reading yet, not that Snape was trying his best to make sure he understood.

Draco carefully finished off his poem, waiting for the ink to dry before folding it up. “Send this to Potter,” he whispered to Pansy, who handed it to the girl beside her. Eventually, it made its way around the class and to Ron, who tapped Harry on the shoulder, handing it to him under the table.

Harry stared down at the paper. A second poem? 

Okay, perhaps I may have set the bar too high

Writing poems everyday is making me want to die

I’m running out of poem topics too

What do you want me to write about, a shoe?

I might as well write more poems, maybe two or three,

To make you understand how sorry I feel.

We haven’t had the best past,

But I don’t want this hatred to last

It’s gone on for long enough,

Maybe we should just make up

Rhyming is so hard

Please just forgive me you jackass

Okay that wasn’t too kind was it?

My rhyming has stopped, hope you won’t mind a bit

D.M.

Harry found himself snorting as he read the letter. He looked up to see Draco was already looking at him, seeming satisfied with himself. He was confused, but Draco knew exactly why he was satisfied. He had managed to make Harry smile for the first time.  

“Something funny with my teaching, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, coming into Harry’s view. “You’re already behind due to your… disability. I wouldn’t want you to be further set back by Mr. Weasley here.”

Harry looked at Hermione, who quickly signed everything Snape had said. “Um… no, Sir, I’m not distracted.”

“Right…” he nodded, turning back to the board. 

He turned back to Draco, who was still staring at him, almost nervously now. Harry quickly scribbled down a note that said ‘meet me at the seventh floor during lunch’, watching as it made its way around the classroom. 

Draco stared at the note, finding himself smiling, putting it away before Pansy could question what it said.

***

“Why here?” Draco asked as he watched Harry pace around one section of the wall a few times. He took a small step back as he saw a door emerge on the wall, confused. “Um… what’s this now?”

“Just enter,” Harry said. He looked around before quickly opening the door and entering. Draco hesitantly followed, looking around to see a somewhat empty room. “This is the Room of Requirement.”

“The room of the what now?” he asked, walking over to the shelves.

“You can use this room for whatever you need. It can change depending on who’s asking for it. I said I needed a place to talk to you privately, so this room came. Not sure what the books are for,” Harry explained, sitting down on the chair.

“I’d say this sounds crazy, but we’re at Hogwarts, so…” Draco commented, sitting down. “Anyway--”

“Right,” he sat up. “Your poems are horrible.”

“Excuse you, I think they’re quite fantastic,” he snapped, folding his arms. “But… does this mean you forgive me?”

“I don’t know why you’re so adamant about it…” He rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know. You seem apologetic, but seriously, why do you care if I forgive you or not? You didn’t seem to care when you threw my hearing aids into the lake.”

“I know. I took it too far, and I know that. Honestly, I don’t know why this is bothering me so much. I guess it’s because, uh… a family member of mine is going deaf.”

“Really? Who?” Harry asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Just some old relative that I need to learn WSL for. And… I was thinking-”

He stood up, scoffing. “Of course you need something. Why was I stupid enough to think that you actually were sorry for once? Who am I kidding? You’re a Malfoy. All you’re made of is cowardice and cruelty.”

“I know the last five years have been terrible. I never intended for us to-”

“Be enemies? We only ended up this way because of you. If you’re done with your sob story, I’m leaving.”

“Trust me, Potter, I really wouldn’t come to you for anything if I had a choice,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t think you’re some bigshot or something.”

“Trust me, I’m not,” He rolled his eyes and picked up his bag, heading for the door. 

“Wait, please,” Draco said, realizing he would have to put aside his ego to get any help from Harry. Standing up, he quickly grabbed the others hand, stopping him from walking away. He turned around, staring down at their hands, confused. “Just… hear me out, please?”

“Can’t do much hearing, but go ahead,” Harry said, pushing his hand off and folding his arms. “You have thirty seconds.”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Draco muttered. Harry’s lips twitched in amusement but he tried to hide it. “I just need your help for a few months. My relative… he’s deaf, so my father wants me to learn WSL so I can communicate with him.”

“There are books in the library for it,” Harry said after a moment, mainly because he was still trying to process what Draco was saying. “Seriously, you don’t need me for this.”

“I’ve been trying to use this book, but it’s not really helping. I mean, you saw me trying to sign ‘sorry’. I can’t do it,” he sighed. “I understand if you don’t want to help me. After everything you and me have been through, I think it’s actually expected. But… please think about it?”

Harry was about to say no - he didn’t need to associate himself with Draco on top of everything that was going on. But he had a moment of weakness staring into his eyes. Draco, for once, seemed vulnerable - helpless, even. Harry knew exactly how that felt. He turned, making his way to the door, but at the last second, he turned, shaking his head in disbelief, almost as if he didn’t believe what he was about to say.

“I’m free on Friday evenings,” he stated. 

“Really?” he asked, eyes widening.

“...Don’t make me regret it,” He said. “I still don’t forgive you, by the way. But I’m not vile enough to not help you out for something like this.”

Draco watched him leave, unable to shake off the sudden positive feeling that had overcome him.

***

“Another letter…” Hermione stared at the owl that flew on Harry’s shoulder this time, parchment paper attached to it. “Er… Harry, do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” he asked. “It’s funny that you think anyone would want to date me, especially now.”

She looked at him, too tired to argue. Ever since the summer, he had become more self-deprecating then usual, which was inevitable, but it hurt her to see him like this, knowing there was nothing she could do to help.

Good morning, Potter

Hope you’re fresh as an otter

Wait, are otters generally fresh?

Eh, couldn’t care less

Here’s your poem for the day

It’s short, but I’m sure you don’t want an essay

D.M.

PS you can’t blame me for the otter thing. There’s practically nothing that rhymes with Potter!

Harry rolled his eyes. What was he getting himself into? Strangely enough, though, seeing a stupid rhyme in Draco's poems every morning always made the day a little more bearable. By now, he had a small box under his bed with all of the poems from Draco. It felt too meaningful to throw away after reading.

“Why is this so hard for you?” Harry grumbled, leaning back in his seat.  “Put your hands out.”

“You’re the one who’s making it difficult!” Draco said outrageously, but begrudgingly put his hands out. “Okay.” He started signing the sentence but stopped halfway, forgetting how to sign one of the words, letting out a groan.

“This is the easiest sentence. And the most important,” he rolled his eyes. Draco watched as he signed while speaking, amazed. He had only. “‘My name is Draco’. You need to finger spell your name. Look at me again.”

He watched as Harry signed his name carefully. “Okay, I think I have it now.”

Draco signed slowly, hands trembling slightly, and he noticed that Harry smiled for probably the first time that day. “I can’t tell if I’m a horrible teacher or you’re a terrible learner.”

“We can go with the first one,” Draco replied, smirking to himself.

“Seeing as that took you twenty minutes…” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s sly insult, he took out a book from his bag. “This helped me learn the basics. Just flick through it whenever you have time. For now just go through the first chapter.”

In the coming weeks, the first few lessons went this way. They’d do a few minutes of physical signing, then Harry would give him a new phrase to learn, or a new topic of words to learn. They would usually sit in silence then, until Harry decided he needed to leave. Draco would stay for an hour or more, trying to study WSL on his own.

The first Friday of November was a little different.

The white-haired boy studied Harry’s demeanor as he sat at the desk, getting out his homework and textbooks to work. His every move seemed so fragile, almost as if he was afraid. He also stared down at his work and rarely looked up during classes, nor did he engage in conversations with anyone other than Hermione or Ron. Hand slightly trembling, he stared down at the paper in front of him, then back up at Harry.

Harry’s green eyes met Draco’s silver ones, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me?”

Caught off guard, he quickly cleared his throat, looking down at his book, shaking his head. “No, nothing. You just… um… seem different.”

There was a moment of silence. “Compared to…?”

“Last year,” Draco replied, looking up again as he continued to write furiously.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, scratching the back of his neck, “losing a friend can do that to you.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Friends? I didn’t think you two were that close,” he commented. Harry watched him as he continued to write, mildly disgusted.

“Do you know anything about me at all, Malfoy?”

“Fair point,” he nodded, ripping out the page from his notebook, pocketing it. “I can’t study anymore. I’ll see you next friday. Thanks.”

Harry watched him go in disbelief. Thanks? Were his lip-reading skills just really bad or did Draco actually thank him?

Despite the usual hostility Draco was used to, he found that they had perhaps made a little progress. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was they were working towards, but he realized he was curious to find out.

***

Draco made his way to the owlery as per his new daily morning routine, clutching two pieces of paper in his hand. One was a silly poem, the other one was… something he shouldn’t have even considered sending to Harry. It was stupid, yet perfectly described Draco’s thoughts throughout this whole mishap. Only he knew how horrible the burning feeling in his chest felt, yet no one seemed to believe how sorry he actually was.

Folding up the silly poem, he reached for his owl, who grabbed it and quickly flew away. Draco sighed, taking out the other one from his pocket, opening it, his heart dropping to his stomach. “No. No!”

Harry took the letter from the owl, petting him before returning to his meal, unfolding the paper with his free hand. Hermione and Ron’s interest in the letters had now been lost as they were always bickering with each other. Besides, they could tell Harry didn’t like it when they asked him about it.

Heart made of anything but gold,

he was rather bold.

All eyes on you,

but you were looking at him,

tears in your eyes,

you couldn’t understand it’s himself he despised

His soul hymns all day long,

but you don’t listen,

your eyes glisten 

in the morning sun, 

All he worries for is his foe,

yet the wrongdoings can’t be undone

How his chest aches, only he’ll know

Gulping, he reread the poem a few times, trying to understand what he had just read. Since when did Draco add hidden meanings to his poems? Hell, since when did Draco become so good at writing one?

“What… are you doing, Draco?” Pansy asked as she reached him, watching him pace back and forth near the entrance of the Great Hall. “I’ve been watching you pace from all the way over there,” she pointed behind her, which was a long hallway.

“I fucked up, I fucked up,” he said, pacing a few more times before stopping in front of her. “I feel sick. I’m going Madame Pomfrey. I’ll probably be off for the rest of the week.”

“Draco, it’s Monday,” she raised an eyebrow. Just as she was about to ask what had happened, he quickly left, practically running down the hallway. Too hungry by now, she entered the Great Hall, deciding she had more pressing matters to get to.

He stayed in the hospital wing for a few days, insisting that he was getting a bad stomach ache. Madame Pomfrey was too tired of his whining to do anything about it, telling her he needed to stay in the hospital wing.

On Wednesday evening, Harry found himself making his way to the wing, rather uneasy. He hadn’t gotten a poem from Draco the past two days, which made him think that maybe Draco was really sick. 

“You’re unwell?” Harry asked as he reached his bed. 

Draco, who was sitting in bed, WSL book in his hands, was taken aback when he saw him standing by his bed, frowning. “Potter,” he said. “What are you doing here? Got yourself injured again or something?”

“No, I… I was wondering how you were doing,” he looked down as he spoke, playing with the sleeves of his jumper. “I didn’t get a poem from you today and yesterday, so…”

“Oh,” Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. “I… didn’t think you would care. I’ve just been sick. Besides, haven’t I written you enough poems already?”

“Yeah, but nothing quite like the one on Monday,” Harry said, reaching into his pocket and taking it out. Draco felt his heart race, heat flushing his cheeks. “That one was…”

“Oh, that… that was stupid. And weirdly emotional. I wrote it at like two a.m. so don’t even think about it-”

“Actually, I thought it was quite sweet.”

“You- what?” He stared up at Harry, eyes widening. His face was burning, and it actually felt as if he was coming down with a fever. Harry avoided his eyes, putting the piece of paper back into his pocket.

“It was sweet. You know, it almost felt like you were actually sorry for once.”

“Almost?”

He let out a loose laugh, walking closer to Draco, who gulped. “I’m kidding. Thank you for the poem.”

The two stared at each other, unsure of what to say now. This was a new, strange territory. They seemed to be civil with each other, but it wasn’t as if they could say they were friends. No, they were a long way from friends. More like… acquaintances. 

Harry stood up, clearing his throat. “Right, so, I’ll see you on Friday?”

“...Friday, yeah.”

“Hey, Potter,” Draco snorted, holding up the WSL book. “I found a nice sign.” he set the book down and clumsily signed the word for ‘dork’. “I’ll be using this a lot for you.”

“Very funny,” Harry said sarcastically. “Well, I just hope you don’t use it on your relative.”

“I probably will, you know. When I’m telling him about how dorky you are.”

“I’m surprised you’d even want to talk about me to your relatives,” Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, a small smirk on his face. “Am I that important in your life, hmm?”

“You literally show up in the Daily Prophet every week. You’re not a topic of conversation because of me,” he said quickly, rolling his eyes. 

“You should see how panicked you get sometimes,” he laughed. “You don’t need to worry so much. I really don’t think we’re friends or something.”

“We’re like… acquaintances, but not quite, you know?” Draco answered absentmindedly. Harry looked at him a bit strangely and he gulped. “I just mean… I wouldn’t treat you like an enemy anymore. It’d be like going back to square one. And while I don’t think you’d ever want to be friends with me, I’d like to think that we’re on neutral terms now.”

“You really are sorry, then?” Harry asked, staring down at the books in front of him. “Not using me just for your own benefit?”

Without thinking, Draco reached across the table, using his hand to gently lift up Harry’s chin, grinning as if he felt like the smartest person on Earth. “Can’t it be a little bit of both, Potter?”

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, letting Draco’s hand rest on his face for a moment before the two awkwardly turned back to their work, realizing what had just happened.

That evening, Harry and Draco hurried to dinner after sneaking out of the room of requirement. Hermione eyed her best friend suspiciously as he sat down beside her, humming out of tune as he served himself.

“Have you… got a song stuck in your head?” she asked.

“What? Oh, yeah,” he replied. “It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s not like I heard it recently, but… somehow still got stuck in my head.”

“You’re strange,” she commented. “But you seem… happier. Did something happen? Did Malfoy get into trouble or something?”

“Hermione, why would that be the only reason I’d be happier?”

“It’s the first thing I could think of that would help you achieve some temporary happiness.”

“Temporary happiness?” he echoed, stuffing his face with food.

“You know,” she shrugged, “you’ve not been happy the past few months. But sometimes you get these waves of temporary happiness. And it feels like everything’s going to be okay again.”

He stared at her, frowning. “Have I become a huge burden on you?” he asked, looking over to Ron, who was sitting across from them.

“What are you talking about, mate?” Ron said through a mouthful. “Why would you be a burden?”

“Ron could you chew then talk?” Ginny, beside him, snapped. She turned to Harry sweetly. “You’re not a burden, Harry.”

“Uh… thanks,” he nodded, but turned to Hermione, clearly seeming as if he didn’t believe her.

“She’s right. You’re not. We’re just worried about you,” she answered. 

“Seems like all you are is worried about me,” he muttered. “Seriously, I’m alright.”

“I wish I could believe that,” she sighed as he looked down at his food.

***

Harry sat in Charms class, staring at the board, rather confused. They were learning a new spell, but he was unable to understand how to pronounce it. He looked over to Ron and Hermione beside who were casting the spell perfectly, too embarrassed to ask them anything yet again.

Looking up, he caught Draco’s eye, who mockingly waved his wand around, as if to remind Harry how to use his wand. In response, Harry rolled his eyes, but kept his gaze on Draco, unsure of what to do.

“Something wrong?” Draco mouthed, frowning.

Harry shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak. “ Colovoria ,” he said rather loudly, mispronouncing the spell, in return, failing the spell he was trying to do on the rat in front of him. Flitwick had given out animals to practice the pell on. 

Harry looked up to see some of the Slytherins snickering, but much to his surprise, Draco wasn’t one of them, pretending to be focused on his own spell. 

As Harry, Ron and Hermione, made their way to their next class, she seemed rather upset. “You know, you could’ve asked us how to pronounce the spell,” she said as they walked. 

“Is that really how I’m supposed to spend the rest of my fucking life?” Harry snapped, stopping. “Asking my friends how to pronounce spells?”

Hermione hesitantly slowed down, turning around to look at him, her gaze moving to someone behind him. Harry turned, following her eyes to Blaise, who he guessed had been trying to get his attention.

“How does it feel, Potter?” Blaise was laughing amongst Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing on either side of him. Was this it? Now that Draco wasn’t at his throat, it was Blaise. “You can’t even do a simple color-changing spell now!” 

Draco was nearby, but kept his eyes at his feet, knowing well that there was nothing he could do to stop Blaise without raising suspicion. Pansy caught up to him. “Why are you standing-”

“I’m sure a color-changing spell would help you a lot later,” Harry responded. “But thanks for the insight.”

“Sure, this is a color-changing spell, you won’t need it,” Blaise shrugged. “But it’d be rather embarrassing to fight the Dark Lord - since he’s supposedly back - when you can’t even pronounce your spells properly. Maybe you ought to just take your defe-”

“Shut up,” Ron spoke up. “Do you really have nothing better to do than obsess over Harry? It almost seems like a personality trait now.”

“Obsess?” he spat. “No. I’m just trying to tell Potter like it is.”

“And I’m trying really hard not to punch you in the face right now,” Harry replied. Both Ron and Hermione tugged at him. Gulping, he looked over to Draco, who seemed to be apologetically staring at him.

What was frustrating wasn’t Blaise’s stupid remarks, it was that he was right. How was Harry going to defend himself through everything? He still had three years of education left. He was nowhere near ready to fight Voldemort.

Throughout the rest of the week, Harry’s speech was minimalized. He barely spoke out loud, and during their next Charms class, he didn’t even attempt to take his wand out when they were trying to learn a new spell. Blaise sat back in triumph, while Draco beside him wanted to slap the smirk off of his face. 

“Look, Potter won’t even attempt the spell today,” Blaise nudged Draco, who looked at him in disgust.

“You’re a dickhead, you know,” he said before he could stop himself, earning a questioning glance from Pansy.

“Hey, at least I didn’t throw some Muggle device that could help him hear into the lake.”

Draco bit back an insult. Blaise was right. He didn’t have a right to say anything. Over the course of the past five years, he had done much worse to Harry. Yet, wasn’t the difference that he actually felt guilty, rather than Blaise, who seemed proud, as if he had done something great?

***

“You can’t just not attempt any new spells,” Hermione stated. “That’s ridiculous!”

“You know what’s ridiculous? Me coming back for another year,” Harry signed with one hand as he tried to eat. “There can’t have been zero deaf wizards until now, right?”

“Tell me about it,” Ron replied as he sat down beside Harry, grabbing a piece of chicken for himself. “It’s kind of stupid how they expect you to stay on top of work if they can’t do much to accommodate to your needs."

Both Hermione and Harry stared at him for a few moments.

“What?” he asked, and the two shook their heads.

“Nothing, you’re just… completely right,” she responded.

“Gee, thanks,” Ron scoffed, and the three let out a small chuckle. Harry turned around to look for Draco. It was Friday evening, which meant it was almost time for them to meet in the Room of Requirement to study, but he seemed to be nowhere in sight. Maybe he had finished up already. 

After dinner, Harry went to his dorm and changed out of his uniform, then grabbed his things and left for the Room of Requirement. They had spent the last lesson on Friday quietly. Surprisingly, Draco had recognized Harry needed his space, and rather than a lesson, they had more of a study session. Except the kind where they kept stealing glances at each other while trying to study. 

When he entered now, he noticed Draco was at the table, hunched over rather tensely.

Walking over, Harry tapped him on the shoulder, then signed, ‘what are you doing?’. Draco stared at him for a few moments, hiding whatever was in his hands under the table. Harry stared at him expectantly.

“I tried fixing your hearing aids,” he sighed, bringing them up on the table. “I still feel horrible about what happened. I tried every spell I could, but…”

“How did you even get it?” Harry asked out loud, realizing he was way too bad at sign language to be able to understand him. “These were in my dorm.”

“Um… I asked Pansy who asked one of her friends… it’s kind of a long chain, but I got them,” he explained. “Could you try them on?” 

“Malfoy, you didn’t have to,” he said, staring down at the hearing aids. He carefully put them on, adjusting it, staying still for a moment. He shook his head in disappointment. “I expected it not to work. Whatever happened to me was some sort of dark magic. It was a longshot anyway.”

“Still,” he urged. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought we were over this,” Harry was smiling, but still rather confused. “I know you’re sorry.”

“I just… don’t think you should stop trying new spells,” Draco frowned as he watched him sit down across from him. “Seriously, Blaise is an idiot. Even while deaf you can probably do every spell better than him.”

“Why do you care so much?” he asked. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Do I need to spell everything out for you, Potter?” 

“If you keep acting like this, yes. I’m afraid I need an explanation as to why you’re acting so abnormally kind.”

He put up his middle finger, to which Harry laughed. “Seeing as you’re not lying about being deaf, I don’t think you’re lying about… You-Know-Who either. So don’t you think you should be learning your spells?”

Harry glanced at his ex-arch nemesis. “I have a few things to say,” he announced. “One, isn’t your dad a Deatheater? Doesn’t that make you automatically on Voldemort’s side?”

Eyebrows creased, he gulped. “No,” he answered. “I mean… they’ve been trying to convince me, but… I’m not really…”

“You don’t need to answer,” he said. “You’re not really obligated to admit anything, especially to me.”

“Thanks,” Draco kept his eyes on Harry, who was fiddling with the hearing aids in his hands. 

“Blaise is right, you know,” he spoke finally. “I don’t know how I expected to get by this year. I’m already falling behind in Potions. I feel like Snape is purposely going faster than usual this year, just to see me suffer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The blond broke out. “You know I can help you, right?”

“You know why that idea would sound insanely absurd to me, right?” Harry retorted, then shook his head. “I’m sorry. This is weird. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave around you. It feels like the walls are closing in on me every time you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you actually care,” he set down his hearing aids, keeping his eyes on Draco’s lips.

“Would it be totally weird for me to say that I do?”

Harry’s gaze moved up to look into Draco’s eyes, unsure of what to say. “Um…”

“Okay, that was probably the lamest thing I’ve ever said,” Draco, panicked, picked up the WSL book. “Let’s just get on with the lesson? If you’re planning to actually teach me something this week, that is.”

“I would, if you stop being a brat,” Harry grabbed the WSL book from his hands, flipping through the pages. “Alright, so I’m guessing you’d probably want to talk about Hogwarts to your relative. I’m still pretty rusty on signing the terms, but I think you ought to learn it. You might as well go all in rather than just learn random bits of the language. Who knows, maybe you’ll encounter more deaf wizards in the future.”

Draco was only half-listening, too busy paying attention to Harry’s hands as they stroked the page, gulping. This was weird. A bit too weird. It was mostly the weird feeling in his chest that was putting him off.

The rest of the lesson went by smoothly - or whatever was considered smoothly for Draco and Harry. 

“Hey, so,” Draco said as Harry was gathering his stuff, “Do you want me to help you with Potions or something tomorrow?”

He chewed his lip, then nodded. “Okay, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. But you can’t be short with me. I’m going to be slow.”

“Can’t be as slow as me trying to learn sign language,” he shrugged, and the two shared a small smile. “Just have a list of things you need help with ready.”

Harry watched him leave, finding himself almost mesmerized by his every move. Draco moved so effortlessly. Even if he wasn’t, with his confidence, you’d think he’s the most handsome person in the room. Well, it was hard to be in a room where someone was more attractive than Draco. 

Harry blinked in surprise. What was that thought just went through his head?

Draco returned to the Slytherin Common Room, flopping down beside Pansy. “Exhausted.”

“I bet,” she replied. “Where do you go on these dates every Friday, Draco? Is it to her dormitories? Do you guys-”

“Sorry, what?” he turned to look at her. 

“You have a girlfriend, don’t you?” Pansy asked, running a hand through her hair, seeming rather amused. “Where else have you been going the past few Fridays? Gone before I can even notice.”

“Er… I’ve been studying,” he said. That wasn’t far from the truth. “By myself.”

“Has anyone ever told you how rubbish you are at lying?”

“I don’t see how I spend my Friday evenings is any of your concern, Pansy,” he folded his arms, holding his head up high.

“It’s just refreshing to see you like this. Not fueled by hatred for Potter, for whatever it is. You know you haven’t ranted about him - or anyone from that friend group - for two weeks now? It’s a record, really.”

“Thank you for keeping track,” Draco replied. “Anyway…”

“Anyway… who’s your girlfriend?” When he didn’t reply, she raised an eyebrow, dropping her voice to a whisper. “...boyfriend?”

“I’m going,” he stood up, and Pansy burst into laughter, grabbing his hand, pulling him back down. He stared down at the WSL book in his hands, then looked back up at her. “Can you tell me something?”

Realizing he was being serious, she nodded, her smile fading. She looked over to the fireplace in front of them, soaking up the heat as she watched her best friend at a loss for words. This was a first. No matter whatever happened - being turned into a ferret, Cedric’s death, Harry Potter opening the chamber of secrets, whatever it was; there was never an instance Draco couldn’t put what he was feeling into words. Unless, of course, this was a new emotion he was feeling...

“Um… what would a feeling be described as when… you really care about someone’s well being?”

“Friendship? Kindness? Caring? Uh… a Hufflepuff?” Pansy listed, seeming quite pleased with her sense of humor. “Why?”

“It’s weird. I care a lot about this person, even though… I didn’t really expect to.”

“Draco, do you have a crush on this person?” she asked carefully. 

He scoffed in disbelief. “It was stupid coming to you. Crush? As if,” he stood up. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She watched him go, but she couldn't help but think that she was right, based on his reaction.

The next morning, Harry woke up to a note on his bedside table.

Sweet, loving bird, sing to me all the secrets you keep

Sing me to sleep,

Sing to me while I weep,

the touch of your hand so warm,

I long for you to feel okay again.

One day, I hope she will be 

almost as grateful for herself as me

Sing to me, sweet, loving bird

while I hold her tight, all my words left unheard

d.m.

Harry felt his vision blur, quickly wiping his eyes. This was stupid. Why was a poem from Draco Malfoy making him emotional? That aside, who was it even about? Who was ‘she’? He felt a tinge of anger. He didn’t want to get the discards of poems that were supposed to be for a girl he liked.

Harry didn’t quite know where he stood with Draco. If they stood anywhere at all, even. But as each day passed, each poem seemed to be deeper, more real. It was a raw version of Draco, and Harry liked being the only one to see his poetic side, as weird as it sounded.

The morning went by roughly. Harry kept his mind on the poem, and as beautiful it was, it bothered him. Who was the poem about?

Harry sat at the desk, unable to focus on his homework. He jumped when Draco tapped him on the shoulder. “You didn’t see me come in?” he asked, sitting down across from him. Harry shook his head, watching as he took out his textbook. “Alright, let’s get started.”

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he commented, adjusting his glasses as he got out his Charms textbook as well his wand. “Met with your girlfriend?”

“Why does everyone assume I have a girlfriend?” Draco asked, looking up at him. “I know I’m hot, but…”

“Better get your eyes checked out,” Harry said, but he was trying to fight back a smile. “I need help with a few potions, but I think I need to master these spells first.”

“Right, makes sense.” he got out his wand as well. “It was the color-changing spell, right? Okay, stand up.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I really don’t think I need to stand up-”

“Potter, this sounds weird, but you need to center yourself, especially for someone who’s doubting their magical abilities.”

“What?” Harry stared. “You need to start signing even a little bit if you’re going to talk so fast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Draco winced. “I always forget. I’m sorry.”

“It’s… okay,” he replied, surprised by how apologetic he was being. “Seriously, you’re making me feel bad for pointing it out.”

“Don’t. If we can’t even speak, we should probably give up on trying to help each other,” Draco said, then repeated what he was saying before, only slower and signing with whatever words he knew. “Got it? Okay, now just get ready as if you’re doing a spell you already know.”

Harry held out his wand. The two watched as it trembled in the clasp. He gulped, opening his mouth to speak, then set his wand down, turning around. “I can’t,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Draco watched him, frowning, then took a careful step forward, placing his hand on his shoulder. “Do you need to… um… talk about it?” he signed sloppily after walking into Harry’s line of vision. 

“What’s there for me to say?” he shrugged, sinking down on the chair. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m just… so sick of all of it.”

“It’s okay to take a break for yourself,” Draco said, sitting down on the seat beside him. “You’ve been through a lot the past couple of years; a lot more than anyone should in their lifetime.”

Even Draco seemed surprised by what he was saying. “I just mean… it’s not unreasonable for you to feel this way. And not unreasonable for you to need a break.”

Harry stood up. “This is stupid,” he sighed, looking away from Draco’s eyes, that by each day, were becoming easier and easier to fall into. “Maybe I should just ask Ron and Hermione for help instead.”

The blond felt a pain in his chest, but nodded. “...If you think that would be more effi-”

“You know, you ought to be sending those poems to your girlfriend instead. I guarantee they would be more than delighted to read a poem like that,” Harry blurted, looking over to the other, who seemed quite confused. 

“What are you on about, Potter?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He took out the note from his pocket, holding it up somewhat accusingly. “The poem. It’s beautiful. You ought to give it to the girl who you wrote about. Rather than sending it to me. I don’t really like getting poems meant for someone else.”

Draco gulped. “I’m glad you like it,” he said, his expression somewhat panicked, unsure of what to do.

“Yeah, well just take it,” Harry folded his arms. “I don’t want it.”

“Harry,” he stood up so they were looking at each other eye-to-eye. “That poem… fucking hell... it's about my mother. I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t even like a girl- I mean I don’t even have a crush.”

He blinked in surprise. “Your mother? But…” he stared down at the piece of paper, reading through it again. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, why would you send me a poem meant for your mother?” he asked.

“You’re going to think I’m pathetic,” Draco shook his head, looking away. 

“I always think you’re pathetic anyway. Isn’t that the whole point?” Harry asked, lightly patting him on the shoulder to ease the tension. He wondered why there needed to be tension at all. Draco was probably the one person he had talked to the most in the past three weeks.

“Well… it just feels like you’re the only person who listens to what I have to say, and…” Draco felt his eyes tear up. “Fuck, this is so stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “Go on.”

He played with his fingers, staring down at his feet. “It just feels like I’ve talked to you about things I couldn’t even dream to say to my friends, through these poems. And you don’t judge me. I watch you quietly chuckle at the poem, maybe smile. Sometimes I catch you reading over it again and again. And… it feels like we’re really friends.”

“Well, since you’ve been wishing for it since first year…” Harry started, then let out a laugh when Draco smacked him on the shoulder. “I don’t know why, but… it feels easier to be around you than most people lately. So, yeah, I’d say we’re friends.”

“So… can we finally move past this awkward stage?” Draco asked, holding his hand out, trying to shake off the uncanny feeling of deja vu.

Harry grinned, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “Yes, please.”

“You’re being stupid,” Draco scolded. “How hard is it to remember the ingredients? Tell me. What ingredients do you need for a Wit-Sharpening potion?”

“Er…” Harry glanced down at his textbook that Draco quickly grabbed so he couldn’t read from it. “Come on! Just tell me the first ingredient.”

“There are only three ingredients,” he folded his arms. “Come on! What about the Invigoration Draught?”

“What word is that?” Harry pointed to his hands. “Did you actually learn the signs for the potions?”

“Well, yeah, because you need to know them. Anyway,” he threw the textbook in his hands somewhat aggressively. “Read it again. You have five minutes.”

“A tad bit strict if you ask me,” he commented, opening the book and staring down at the textbook, smiling to himself. “Don’t consider becoming a professor. Students will hate you.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Draco sarcastically replied, giving him a mocking smile. The two sat in silence for the next five minutes, but Harry was too busy watching the blond in front of him scribbling onto a piece of paper to be reading. “Got it?” he asked, looking up. 

“Uh…” Harry winced. “Yes.”

“Okay, then tell me the ingredients to make a Wit-Sharpening potion.”

“Er…”

“Maybe I ought to make you drink a Wit-Sharpening potion,” Draco scoffed, then clicked his tongue. “Ah, wait. There wouldn’t be anything to sharpen.”

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

He stood up slightly, leaning forward and smacking Harry lightly with his book, trying to hold back a smile. “I know,” he sat back down. “Here,” he handed Harry the quill. “Writing helps you remember better. Write down the ingredients needed at least five times.”

Harry groaned, looking over at the piece of paper Draco was writing in. “Another poem?” He stood up quickly and walked so he could read it over his shoulder, knowing rather well he could’ve just picked it up.

“It’s not finished,” Draco said, putting his hands over the paper, aware of how close Harry’s face was. He could practically feel his breath on his neck. To make matters worse, he only leaned in more so his chest was against his back, removing Draco’s hands. 

Don’t keep me company, darling

You’re anything but charming

We’re always bickering,

You think you’re so funny, snickering away

Yet we always end up together

And I think to myself, why not do this forever?

Sometimes I want to slap your face

Harry picked up the quill, dipping it in ink, putting an arm over Draco’s shoulder, trying to reach the paper and quickly writing. “Hmm?” he hummed, showing the blond, who was trying to keep his breathing steady as his heart beat sped up.

But could you keep me in your embrace?

“This is supposed to be a hate poem,” Draco pointed out. “About these two people bickering and arguing all the time.”

“It seems to me there’d have to be some love,” Harry shrugged, sitting down beside Draco. “Why spend so much time together if all they’re doing is arguing? There has to be more to it than that. Besides, you already wrote here that they want to spend time together forever.”

He stared into the brunet’s green eyes, unsure of how to tell him that the poem was about the two of them. “I guess so,” he said finally. “And… it’s only one of them that likes the time they spend together.”

“I can’t help but think it’s both of them,” he said, grabbing his notebook. “Right, I’ll get to it, then. Stupid wit-sharpening potion.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s probably the only thing that could help you in your O.W.Ls.”

“Dick,” Harry muttered.

“Prick.”

“Oh, so you’re rhyming in real life too now?” Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s going to get old.”

“Harry-” he said in a whiny tone, shaking his head. “Get to writing before I slap you in the face.”

The two sat in silence as Draco took out his WSL book, trying to sign a few more words. He stared down at the book in confusion when he got to the phrase ‘can I help you’. Holding his hands up, he flinched when Harry reached out, then relaxed a bit. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Harry was too busy staring down at his hands to lip-read, helping him sign out the phrase. “Don’t get it confused with ‘I need help’. That goes in the opposite direction, like this,” he said, pulling Draco’s hands towards him. “Did that help?”

“...Yes. Thanks, Harry.”

***

Groaning into his pillow, he jumped when he heard Pansy laugh. “What are you doing here?” he asked, watching as she shut the door behind her. Harry and Draco had met up earlier in the morning so they would be able to sneak out easier.

“Looking for you. Why aren’t you coming to lunch?” she asked, folding her arms. “Seriously, you’ve been acting weird lately. I’m a little worried about you. You disappear on Friday evenings, and you were gone today too.”

“I’ve been studying,” he said. “I really have.”

“Right,” she said down near the foot of his bed, watching as he turned to lie on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Why do you seem so stressed?”

“I’ve been studying with someone the past few weeks,” he blurted, holding his gaze to the ceiling, too embarrassed to even look at Pansy. “And my whole opinion on them is changing.”

“Them? Is it a girl?”

“...Yes?”

“Draco,” she said, narrowing her eyes. He slowly looked over at her, fearful. “Do you have a crush on a boy?”

“Would you… stop being friends with me if I was gay?” he asked, voice shaky as he sat up slowly, wondering if she would hit him. She was the type to smack people if she disagreed with them.

“Oh, honey,” she smiled, and in a bizarre plot twist, wrapped her arms around him tightly. “Of course not. I’ve always had a feeling, you know.”

“Since when?”

“Since your first rant about Harry Potter. That’s sort of a dead giveaway,” she said, chuckling. “But take your time figuring things out. And I’m always with you, no matter what.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he held onto her, “because… I feel like I’ve known for a while. I just… put it away. Avoided it.”

She rubbed her hand gently up and down his back. “You should experiment, you know. Go out with boys. See how it feels.”

“Er… I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” he said, pulling away from her, pulling up the sleeves of his sweater. She eyed him, and he wondered if it was a look of judgement or something else.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous. I know a few boys in Slytherin who would be interested, you know. Do you want me to hook you up?”

“No, it’s not that,” he shook his head. “I’m just not sure about exploring when… I feel weird around this one person.” 

Pansy’s eyes widened, then she nodded. “...I can’t say I’m surprised. It was odd to see this sexuality thing come up like this. I should’ve realized. So you like someone?”

“Um… it’s hard to say.”

“Well, do you think about him a lot?” she asked. “Do you feel worried about him?”

His mouth dry, Draco looked back up at the ceiling, the corner of his lips twitching. “Sometimes our hands touch and it feels like an electric shock,” he mumbled. “And today he was looking over my shoulder… his body was pressed against mine. It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest.”

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“A… while,” his voice was low, almost as if he was afraid to say it out loud. “You know, with everything that’s going on in my family… he helps me forget. He doesn’t even realize it. And… his laugh is so sweet. It…” 

He stood up quickly, almost tripping but regaining his balance. He picked up his bag, ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook and taking out his quill, dipping it in ink and starting to write.

Ringing like a sweet melody,

It feels like you’re my remedy.

Stuck in my head,

there are so many words left unsaid.

So many things I can’t understand, 

But all I know is me feeling this way was unplanned.

d.m.

“What are you writing?” Pansy asked once he was done, setting it to the side.

“A poem for Harry,” he replied.

“Potter?”

“Is there another Harry we know?” he snapped. “Yes, Harry Potter.”

“...about how you’re feeling right now?” she raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think he’d take it the wrong way? You know, maybe think it’s about him? Besides, I thought each poem had to be about how sorry you are.”

“I don’t think he minds,” he bit his lip. “Also, it wasn’t as if he specified what the poem had to be about. Besides...he can interpret the poem however he wants to.”

Pansy’s eyes widened. “Is the poem about him?” 

“Um…”

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked, suddenly getting excited, clapping her hands together. “That’s so cute! Is he your ‘study buddy’ then?”

“He’s just helping me learn WSL and I’m helping him keep up with his classes. Nothing else,” he put his hands up as if to tell her to calm down. “Seriously.” he folded his arms, then looked at her again. 

“Seems like everything else,” she nudged his shoulder, then sighed when he looked down, playing with his fingers. “I think you should spend more time with him to understand how you really feel."

“Really? So I shouldn’t avoid him as well as my feelings?”

“No!” she exclaimed, startling him. “Certainly not. That would just make it more difficult for both parties involved. You don’t want to keep going back and forth.”

“But… I don’t even know if he’s gay, let alone if he likes the guy who threw his hearing aids into the lake.”

“Focus on your own feelings,” she shook her head. “Allow yourself to feel everything. If it doesn’t work out, then it wasn’t meant to be. You don’t have to, but wouldn’t you beat yourself up not knowing what could’ve been?”

He bit at his thumb nervously, then nodded. “I suppose you’re right. Thanks.”

Harry sat in his dorm, holding the poem in his hands tightly. He hadn’t realized it earlier, but looking back, the poem Draco was writing seemed awfully similar to their situation. But… it couldn’t be, right? There was no way. Otherwise, Harry had just unintentionally told Draco they love each other.

“Hey,” Ron sat as he flopped down across from him. Harry was seated by the window. “We’re going to Hogsmeade if you want to join.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I need to finish up some homework.”

“I think you should come. You haven’t been out of the castle in weeks,” he stated outrageously. “You need to clear your head.”

“Is this you or Hermione speaking?” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Ron pursed his lips.

“Well, she put what I was thinking into words. Besides, I agree. I think you need a break from all of this, mate,” he sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m worried about you.”

Harry looked up at him for a long moment. “What does it mean when someone tells you they dislike you, but like spending time with you?” he asked suddenly, squinting down at the piece of paper.

Ron was surprised at the change of subject, but it was the first time they had spoken about something other than school in a while, so he rolled with it. “Er… I would think they’re trying to convince themselves they don’t like me, but failing.”

“So you agree that they would have to like the person to enjoy spending time with them?”

The redhead stared at him in confusion. “Yes, that’s how relationships work. I think so, at least. Why? Who told you this?”

“No one in particular,” Harry shrugged. “I’m just… confused.”

“I am too,” he said. “Does this have anything to do with that girl who’s been sending you love letters?”

“They're not love letters, Ron.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re not hate letters,” he stood up, then looked back at Harry. “Come with us. Please? We’re just going to the Three Broomsticks.”

He stared at his best friend, then sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

Shrugging on a sweater, Harry followed him outside to the Common Room, where Hermione and Ginny were conversing. The two looked up at him inquisitively. “You’re coming?” Hermione signed. He quickly signed back ‘yes’. 

As they left, Ginny deciding to tag along, Harry chewed on the inside of his lip nervously, fiddling with the piece of paper in his pocket. “You okay?” Ginny said as she tugged on his sweater gently. Hermione and Ron were bickering again, and Harry wasn’t too bothered trying to lip read their conversation.

He shrugged. “Alright. You?”

“I’m good too. You know, I think Dumbledore’s Army was a good idea. It’s nice to see you’re able to help others. You’ve certainly been helping me,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, hopefully I’m still pronouncing the spells properly,” he said. Ginny watched him with uncertainty in her eyes, but didn’t say anything in response. As they entered the Three Broomsticks, Harry looked around, his eye catching Draco’s, who was sitting with Pansy and Blaise.

“There’s Potter,” Blaise spat. “He’s been doing spells again, even pronouncing it properly. I wonder if that Mudblood has been teaching him that.”

Pansy and Draco exchanged glances. “Probably,” she replied, using her eyes to tell Draco to stay silent. “Anyway-”

“Oh, look, he’s signing. Draco, don’t you think we should mess with him again? I feel like that prat deserves it,” he said smugly, taking a sip from his drink.

Unsure if he should smile or nod or ignore his existence, the seeming trance placed on him was broken by Hermione who nudged him. “What do you want to drink?” she signed.

“Just butterbeer, thanks,” he signed back, looking back at Draco, who had now turned back to his friends. They sat down a few booths down from the three Slytherins. Harry sat down, then looked up, noticing that he and Draco could see each other perfectly. They made eye contact again, both awkwardly raising their eyebrows, as if they were unsure of what to say.

“Draco?” Blaise asked. 

“Hmm?” he practically tore his gaze off of Harry, looking over at his friend.

“I said we should mess with Potter again. We can do it more discreetly if you’re worried about getting into trouble,” he said. “What do you say?”

“I say, you’re being stupid,” Draco stated, looking down at his coffee. “Seriously. Don’t you think it’s better to just leave it? I mean, I already got three weeks of detention. I don’t need anymore at the risk of being caught. Besides, I’m a prefect.”

“Leave it? All you’ve done the past five years is go on about Potter, and you’re telling me three weeks of detention with him has convinced you to leave him alone?”

“I just don’t think you should be making fun of him for being deaf,” he said quietly, taking a sip from his drink. Pansy, beside him, chewed on her lip uncomfortably. Even she didn’t know what to say.

“A bit hypocritical of you, don’t you think?” Blaise laughed bitterly. “Come on, don’t be such a wuss. Crabbe and Goyle will help too.”

“No,” Draco firmly said this time, sitting up properly. “Leave it. Don’t involve yourself with him. He… all he does is cause trouble wherever he goes.”

“But it’s funny, isn’t it?” Blaise pestered, realizing he seemed to be hitting a nerve. “The bloody git can’t even hear us talking about him one feet away. He’s a bit of an idiot-”

“Shut up, Blaise,” he snapped, nostrils flaring, his eyes piercing.

“Since when do you care what’s said about Potter? Don’t tell me you’ve become his bodyguard, just like the Weasel and the Mudblood. Or worse, don’t tell me he’s won your heart over,” he let out a loose laugh. “Got a boyfriend, have we? Feeling a bit protective?”

Draco stood up, knocking the glasses on their table over, grabbing Blaise by the collar and pulling him up. The chatter in the pub had quietened down, and all eyes were on the two. Harry, clueless, followed everyone else’s gaze after noticing they were gaping at something.

“I suggest you stop,” the blond threatened in a low voice, aware of all the people staring. Gritting his teeth, the pure disgust was evident on his face. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Blaise seemed complacent, pushing Draco’s hand off of him. “He must have his dick deep inside you to do-”

Draco pushed him to the floor, and a huge gasp came from everyone that was watching. Blaise fell against a table then onto the floor. For a moment, it seemed as if he wasn’t going to get back up, but he stood up quickly, punching Draco in the face. 

In shock, he stared at the other for a second, then punched Blaise back. The two went back and forth until Pansy finally stood up, unable to take it any longer. “Knock it off !” Pansy raised her voice, pushing Blaise off of Draco. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

“Ask the absolute motherfucker,” Draco said, putting a hand to his cheek, unable to even look in Harry’s direction, but knew damn well that he was staring. He felt severely humiliated, his silver eyes gleaming as he frowned. He was unable to fathom what was happening. Gulping, he swiftly went towards the door, face getting warm. 

“Potter’s that way, moron,” Blaise pointed towards the table Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were sitting at. He cleared his throat, then sat back down at the booth. Pansy shook her head in disbelief, then followed after Draco. Blaise cursed loudly then left too.

“Um… what was that about?” Harry asked once the chatter slowly started up again. 

“I really couldn’t tell you,” Hermione answered, seeming somewhat startled.

***

The door opened and Draco entered. Harry let out a sigh of relief, sitting up. There was now a couch in their study room that was conjured up every time they entered the Room of Requirement.

“You came,” Harry said.

“You asked,” the blond responded, holding up the note. He sat down beside the other. Harry put a tentative hand to his wounded cheek. Draco flinched slightly, but let him touch it, unable to look at him.

“I know it’s not my place, but…” he started, looking down at the pack of plasters that appeared on the table beside the couch. Picking it up, he shook the box slightly. Draco waved his hand as if to say no, and Harry found himself taking out a plaster, carefully putting it over the cut, carefully tracing his thumb over the swollen part of his face.

“Why are you doing that?” Draco whispered. He was afraid to ask because he knew Harry would stop as soon as he did, but it was weird. Odd. Almost made what Blaise had accused true.

“Sorry,” Harry jerked his hand away. “It’s not my place.”

The two sat in silence for a moment.

“Why did you two fight?” he asked. “I’ve… never seen you look so hurt before. I was worried. Again, like I said, not my place.”

“You said we’re friends, right?” Draco looked up, finally looking into Harry’s emerald green eyes, who was busy reading his lips, which also had a few cuts. His platinum blond hair, for once, was not combed to perfection, nor did it have any sort of weird gel in it. It fell into his eyes. When Harry nodded, he shrugged. “Then you have every right to ask.”

“So… do you want to tell me?”

“We fought about something stupid,” he lied, shaking his head, looking down at his grazed knuckles. Gulping, he chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously. “He’s just… been getting on my nerves lately. It was just a lot of small things that led up to this fight.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t seem like something stupid,” he muttered, grabbing Draco’s hand. The two watched as a gauze bandage appeared. Harry picked it up and started wrapping it around Draco’s left hand, where the wounds were. “Hermione said my name was mentioned. I don’t want to assume, but…” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he said under his breath, then looked up. “Yes. It was about you.”

“Well, that much is obvious,” he replied. “Why would you fight about me?”

With some hesitation, Draco spoke. “He was saying these stupid things about you. Things I was saying at the start of this year. And hearing it from him made me realize the stupidity of my words. Anyway, I told him to cut it out, and he started telling me how you’re my boyfriend because I’m trying to ‘protect’ you.”

Harry’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s a bit…” 

“Stupid? Ridiculous? Absurd?”

“...surprising,” he finished. “You’re a bit worked up right now.”

“You would be too if you fought with your best friend,” he answered, yanking his hand away from Harry. His touch burnt, but unlike a scalding, sizzling wound, he found himself desperate for more. His fingers were soft, warm, gentle - caring. “Thanks, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

Startled, Harry watched as he stood up, walking towards the door. He paused at the doorknob, hand trembling as the Gryffindor spoke up. “I can’t not worry,” he was saying, his voice shaky. He was unsure of how loud he was being. “I thought you said we were friends.”

Draco put a hand to his cheek as he turned around to face him again. “Right, friends,” he nodded. “I suppose that’s all it is.”

Harry kept his eyes on him, confused. It seemed that the blond was conflicted, and he was too afraid to ask. He didn’t want to pry, but he didn’t like seeing him like this. It seemed to be a raw, unfiltered version of Draco Malfoy, one that he had never seen before. When he looked up again, his silver eyes held no emotion.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” Draco signed, opening the door and leaving before Harry could stop him.

What had just happened?

Harry spent the next few days wondering why Draco would even want to fight Blaise for something like that. It wasn’t like they were that good friends, right? While he felt like he could talk to him about things, he didn’t realize that they were at that stage. 

The poems to him, however, had stopped. It was an insufferable, Friday morning, but the hope that they would be meeting in the evening to study gave him a shred of excitement, and it was enough to work with amidst the chatter of his friends that he couldn’t possibly join. They were all talking way too fast, and it felt like they were having three conversations at once.

Harry avoided Hermione’s sympathetic gaze. It was uncomfortable and disheartening. He glanced over to the Slytherin table behind him. He made eye contact with Pansy, who seemed to be moping, and Draco, beside her, was staring down at his full plate of food, unable to even pick up the fork.

“Harry’s looking,” she mumbled under her breath. It wasn’t as if anyone could hear her - Blaise was being the loudest at the table, acting as if he had won the fight between Draco, and as if it somehow determined his worth.

“Tell him to stop looking, then,” he responded, picking up the fork with his left hand, wincing slightly. It was hard for him to write or do anything, but surprisingly, the professors had not been informed of the fight, nor were they too concerned to find out. “I don’t want to look at his stupid emerald eyes.”

“Well, he’s looked away now,” she sighed, almost in a disappointed tone. “I thought you wanted to figure out your feelings?”

“That was before I fought someone because of him,” he said rather harshly, stuffing his face with a mouthful of food. “Before his stupid touch made my skin burn. Now all I want to do is dig a hole and bury myself in it. He definitely took the fight the wrong way. I was just trying to stop Blaise from making bizarre accusations.”

“Or were you trying to stop him from insulting Harry?” Pansy asked.

He groaned. “Shut up.”

***

Harry sat in the Room of Requirement that evening. Draco was late. He was never late. He was either early or they would catch each other in the hallway just while entering, Harry under his Invisibility Cloak. But Draco was never late, nor would he stop writing poems. Maybe Harry did push it. But was it really so bad for him to do that? He was only worried.

An hour passed and though he was trying to get on with his work, all he felt was humiliation. They had barely been friends for two weeks and it was already messed up. Was it impossible for the two of them to have a normal relationship- friendship? Sighing, Harry stood up, shutting his books and dumping them into his bag. This was too depressing. Perhaps he had misread the proximity of their friendship.

He turned around to leave, he jumped when he noticed Draco standing at the door, his tie loose and hair messy, seeming out of breath. The two locked eyes, and for a moment, everything had left Harry’s mind. The overthinking, the stress, the worrying had left, and the only thing he could think of was: Draco’s eyes had never gleamed this way before.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come,” he said, folding his arms.

“I didn’t think so either,” Draco spoke, and this time, he signed while speaking. “I didn’t want to see you.”

“Then leave,” he said, taking a step forward. He set his bag down to the floor, not taking his eyes off of him. “I’m not going to force you to be here.”

“I know,” the blond shrugged, stepping towards the brunet, trying not to smile. “I just thought about how sad your arse would be to spend a Friday without me now. I bet you’re used to it.”

“I’m used to you annoying the fuck out of me,” Harry retorted. “But it’s a good kind of annoyance, I suppose. Beats Ron and Hermione’s constant bickering. Though, obviously, I have no way of being able to tell if it’s bickering or a normal conversation. I don’t really speak to them much.”

“Well, that turned depressing quick,” Draco replied, finding himself smiling as the boy in front of him laughed, reaching forward and gently caressing his bandaged hand. 

“You’re signing,” he smiled. “Lousily, but it’s good. You should do it more often when you speak to me. Helps me understand you a bit better.”

“I’m injured,” he said dramatically, putting a hand to his forehead. “I know it’s surprising to hear, but even I, Draco Malfoy, can’t be perfect at everything. I’m better at it than most, of course, but no, not perfect.”

“You’re perfectly good at getting on my nerves.”

Draco reached forward to smack him, then softly placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s get cracking, shall we?”

He was surprised, to say the least, and to be frank, he wasn’t sure if he liked this new side of Draco. “Um… you know, you don’t need to come every Friday if you don’t want to,” Harry pointed out. “I’m sure you’re busy with friends.”

“Well, my only friend right now is Pansy, and she’s more interested in having her tongue in some guy’s mouth, so I think I’m alright,” he replied without looking up, biting at his thumb as he stared down at the textbook.

“Does that make you mad?” Harry asked carefully, taking his books out of his bags again so he had an excuse to avoid his gaze. “To see her making out with guys?”

Draco waited for him to look up again, then started speaking. “I mean… a little,” he shrugged, and for some reason, Harry’s chest darkened. “It’s quite unfair that she gets all the guys, isn’t it? She should leave some for others.”

The feeling in his chest lightened a bit. “Oh, you mean that way. I was just wondering if you… I dunno, liked her or something.”

“Well, do you like Granger?”

“What? No, of course not. We’re not like that -- we couldn’t be.”

“I figured. That’s how I feel about Pansy, too,” he stated, staring down at the book in front of him.

“You need any clearing up on those pages?” Harry asked, leaning forward and scanning the page. The other shook his head and he nodded. “Alright. I’m just finishing up a Potions essay.”

“Tell me if you need help,” Draco said. 

They lasted in silence for about ten minutes, until Harry looked up to see him gazing frustratedly down at the book, shaking his head. “Do you need help?” he asked. 

“No, I just… this week has been so frustrating,” he answered. “Blaise has done practically everything to get on my nerves, and most of the Slytherins keep giving me dirty looks. I have no idea what he told them, but I’m sure it wasn’t something good. And, on top of that , Christmas is in a month. That means I need to go home for the holidays but I’ve barely learnt any sign language-”

“Hey, hey,” Harry cut him off in a gentle tone. “Calm down. You were talking too fast for me to lip-read, but I think I got the gist of it.”

Draco looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, I was just heated up. I’ll enunciate more-” he watched as the other stood up, then held out his hand. “What?”

“Give me your hand,” he said.

“Why?” he asked, and in response, Harry grabbed his hand and tugged him until he stood up. “What are you doing?”

“They say a good way to relieve stress is to dance,” he said, leading Draco to the open space near the tables. “So I think we should dance.” 

“There’s barely any space,” he started, but watched as the room suddenly grew significantly larger, more than enough space for them to dance, along with a dance floor. “I’m not sure if that was a requirement.” he groaned as some loud, ballroom dancing music started playing. “Music? really?”

“Hush,” Harry said, kicking his shoes off, trying his best to feel the vibrations through the floor. “Now, I don’t know any other dance except for the Yule Ball one, so we’re going to have to do that. I’ll lead.”

The Slytherin half-heartedly swayed with the music, looking down at the boy in front of him, who was grinning like an idiot. “God, Potter,” he shook his head, trying to keep a somewhat composed face, “you’re getting all of the beats wrong!”

“Care to lead, then, abled-hearing person?” he asked, and this time, Draco laughed out loud as he switched the placement of their arms so he was now leading. This seemed more comfortable for the two, even though Harry had originally learnt how to lead. It was surprising to him how gracefully Draco moved, as if it came to him naturally. He was even smiling now, letting himself get lost in the dance. Even the arms around Harry’s waist felt in place and not uncomfortable.

“Do you think you can- oh!” he gasped as Draco lifted him up carefully then placed him down, just like the Yule Ball dance. “You did that quite well, I must say. Parvati wasn’t pleased with my skills as a date nor as a dancer.”

“I saw you that night,” he responded as they continued to move to the music. “You were moping and sitting in one place. You seemed quite angry, so I didn’t feel like coming and insulting you. Besides, Moody would have probably turned me into a ferret again.”

“Barty Crouch Jr.,” Harry corrected. “How would you rate my dancing skills on a scale from one to ten?” 

“I’d-” Draco twirled him around, but all of a sudden, Harry slipped over the floor because of his socks, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground. “Oh my God, Harry-” 

Wincing, Harry stayed on the ground, opening his eyes on looking up at the concerned silver-eyed boy who was leaning over him. The music continued to play and as the two stared at each other, they burst into laughter. 

“You’re… such a dumbass…” Draco said during wheezes, shaking his head. “You’re not supposed to let go of my hand!” 

“ I’m sorry,” he mocked, then rested his head flat against the floor. “I can feel the beat thumping into my head.”

“Really?” he asked. Harry watched as the blond loosened his tie and adjusted his trousers, lying down on the floor beside him. “Hmm… that’s quite relaxing, actually.”

The two stayed quiet, letting themselves relax, until Harry finally spoke up. “I wish I could hear the music,” he remarked. Draco turned his head to face him, and so did the other. The two were taken aback by how close their faces were, but neither made an attempt to move.

“It’s not that great to hear, you know,” he said. “If you don’t want to deal with someone, you just get to close your eyes. It’s quite funny, actually.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, but no one really annoys me - except for you, of course. It… gets quite boring for me. Everyone’s having a conversation and I… I need Hermione to translate what’s happening.” 

“Harry,” he said in a soft voice. They both felt the music die down, dissolving into a calm yet tense silence in the atmosphere. “I’m sorry. I was only joking.”

He smiled. “I know. That’s what I like about you. You know… I really am grateful for you sometimes.”

“You are?” Draco asked, turning his head so he was staring up at the ceiling, too afraid to look into his eyes now. His heart was thumping.

“After what happened…” he gulped, “everyone was treading on thin ice. They still are. They try not to bring it up if they don’t have to. But you? You weren’t afraid to say it to my face. And you weren’t afraid to treat me the same way you have been the past few years. It was like… while it feels like everything is changing, you’re the one reminding me that not much really has to change.”

He cleared his throat. “But the way I treated you was awful.”

“But that’s what’s normal to me. You being Malfoy, an absolute prick, trying to find new ways to get under my skin. I agree, the hearing aids were too far, and I’m really glad we were able to move past all of that and become friends.”

“Do you forgive me for that?”

“Course not,” he said up, a cheeky smile on his face, wondering why his face felt so hot. “Back to work?”

“As much fun that dance break was, yes,” Draco replied, getting to his feet.

***

“Where were you last night?” Hermione raised an eyebrow as he sat down beside her. Not a moment of peace , he thought to himself. She folded her arms, and Harry correlated her expression to one of an angry mother. “I was worried.” 

“When are you not worried about me anymore,” he rolled his eyes, then gulped. “Sorry. That was a bit out of line. I was in the room of requirement studying and fell asleep there. I came back a bit late.”

“Alright, if you say so…” she said. “Sorry for prying. I’m-”

“-only worried. I know. Thank you. Should we head to the room of requirement now?”

“I feel like you’re being a bit short with me,” she told him. 

“I feel like you’re worrying for me too much and not letting me breathe,” he responded. “I get it. I’m deaf. But please don’t treat me any differently. You know I hate feeling like an outcast.”

“He’s right,” Ron chimed in, who had just joined them as they left the Gryffindor Common Room.

“...well, if you really feel that way, then I’m sorry. Tell me if I’m overstepping again,” she said, her frown helping Harry understand that she actually did feel quite sorry. “Let’s go. Last lesson before the holidays, huh?”

The lesson went by somewhat smoothly. Harry found it easy to teach everyone, especially since they were actually quite eager to learn. He also found it to be a good thing to be doing this rather than moping about all day. It felt like he was achieving something. At the end of the lesson, as he waited for everyone to leave, he noticed Cho hanging back. 

It was now only two of them in a room, and she was crying. He frowned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry…” she was saying, “I just… miss him terribly, especially as we learn all of this.”

“I understand,” he responded, walking towards her. “I miss him too. It’s like… little things, you know? That reminds you of him. Like the change in the color of the leaves, or the first snowfall, or someone who looks at you the way he would.”

Cho stared at him now, wide-eyed. “That’s exactly it,” she whispered. “You’re… a good teacher, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said, unsure of why she was staying here, talking to him like this.

“Mistletoe,” she pointed towards the ceiling. The two looked up, and surely enough, there was a mistletoe. And before he knew it, her wet lips were on him, and all he could do was stand there in awe. And while he kissed her back, he couldn’t help but realize how wrong it felt.

“You’ve been so weird all weekend,” Ron said as the three sat down during Charms class. It was a revision lesson today, which meant they could study and chat all they liked. After all, it was their last week before the holidays. “Did something happen?”

“When does something not happen to me?” he sighed, looking across the room, raising his eyebrows slightly at Draco as if to greet him, who tried not to smile in response, looking back down at his work. “Um… I was kissed.”

“WHAT?” Ron said loudly, earning a smack from Hermione. Both Draco and Pansy looked up, surprised by the disruption. They kept their eyes on the three, who seemed to be part of an intense conversation. “Sorry. Um. Why?"

“Ron, you’re such an idiot,” Hermione rolled her eyes, signing along as she spoke. Draco was glad for two things - one being that he knew basic sign language, and the other that the three used sign language to communicate while speaking. “The important question is, who?”

“Cho,” Harry replied solemnly.

“And you’re unhappy you had your first kiss because…?” Ron asked, folding his arms. 

“I’m not particularly satisfied that my first kiss was my dead-friend’s-ex-girlfriend who also happened to be my ex-crush. And I kissed her back!” he answered, and the three broke into a small smile, knowing full well it was not something to laugh about. 

“Ex-crush?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just gaping at her in the previous lesson?”

“What? No?” Harry shook his head, thinking back to their previous class, which was potions. He had been staring at Draco most of the time. Now that he thought about it, Cho was actually in his line of vision. “Ohh, I wasn’t staring at her, I was staring at Dr-”

He paused and the two stared at him, expectantly waiting for an answer. Hermione’s gaze, as usual, was somewhat judgemental.

“...doesn’t matter who I was staring at,” he corrected himself before they could notice. “I don’t like her anymore. Not sure if I ever liked her, actually…”

“Then why did you even kiss her back?” Ron asked.

“I couldn’t just push her away! She was sad,” he pointed out. “I don’t suppose you would push, I don’t know, Hermione away if she kissed you while she was sad?”

“Bloody Hell!” Ron exclaimed. “That’s… that’s unimaginable!”

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, both uncomfortably imagining kissing each other. They stayed silent and Harry shook his head. Those two were in such a weird phase and he realized it probably wasn’t a good idea to say that. “Whatever. All I’m saying is, I’m not too happy that she was my first kiss.”

“Who would you want to be your first kiss, then?” Hermione asked.

His eyes moved down to his lap, thinking of how Cedric’s stare used to make him feel nervous. He had been too afraid to confront his feelings. It was strange, right? To feel like this about another person, let alone someone who was also a male. He was able to push it away before. It wasn’t a big deal - Cedric was warm, caring, and kind, it was only understandable. He was a role model, a fun person to be around. It was only an infatuation, barely anything real.

Harry looked up, his eyes reaching Draco’s, who was already staring at him. But his stare wasn’t nerve-wrecking, unlike Cedric’s, unlike Cho’s.

His stare was heavy, it was intoxicating, it was somewhat tense, but it made Harry feel at ease. He thought of his lips on Draco’s and felt his face heat up. There was no denying it now. The blond had definitely been listening to their conversation. Harry looked down, shaking his head, his face pink.

“I don’t know,” he answered finally. He couldn’t lie to himself. Cedric may have been an infatuation, sure, but Draco was different. It was everything he felt with Cedric and more. It was stronger. It was the way Draco fiddled with his ring whenever he was focused, it was the way he’d run his hands through his stupid, silky hair at least a thousand times a day, the way his silver eyes sunk into Harry’s, making him feel so on display, yet so safe at the same time. It was the way Draco’s poems were the only thing he was looking forward to in the mornings, and the way Friday evenings were his favorite time of the week.

“Hmm. For the record, Ron, I wouldn’t kiss you even if I was the saddest person alive.”

“Who would you go to, then? Viktor Krum?” he scoffed. Hermione glared at him, and Harry now looked back down at his work, shaking his head.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, turning to Pansy. “Cho Chang,” he said in a somewhat disappointed tone, picking up the quill on his table.

“She’s got game,” Pansy shrugged, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He rolled his eyes at her. “You have to give her that. But I wouldn’t be too disappointed. He clearly doesn’t like her."

“You were watching their conversation too?” Draco asked, looking at her somewhat accusingly.

“It’s not like they’re whispering,” she said. “Besides, it’s easy to lip read their conversations when they enunciate so much.”

“It’s to make sure Harry understands them,” he replied, and all Pansy did was smile at him, as if she knew something about himself that he didn’t. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s frightening.”

Draco looked over to the Gryffindor again, who was looking at him now, almost curiously. He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to ask him if everything was alright. He nodded in response, and Harry gave him a small smile. Draco smiled back before the two both turned back to their work.

“You’re smiling,” Pansy sang. “You really like him, don’t you?” 

Draco looked at her with a deadpan expression, shaking his head at her, but he couldn’t deny it. “...I dunno,” he said finally, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously. But the answer was yes. 

Much more than he’d ever care to admit.

“Pansy, I really don’t-”

Draco looked up, raising an eyebrow when he saw Blaise and Pansy approaching him. He stared down at the faded wounds on his knuckles, trying not to think about how gently Harry had wrapped the bandage around his hand. With an icy expression, he folded his arms.

“Hey,” Blaise said, pursing his lips. “...Pansy helped me realize that what I did was out of line and stupid. So… I’m sorry for everything I said. I didn’t mean to sound so homophobic.”

“Are you sure you’re not homophobic?” Draco asked. 

“No, I’m not,” he shook his head. “I was way out of line. I guess it was because I felt offended when you told me to shut up or whatever. Either way, I’m sorry.”

He stared at him for a moment. “Okay.”

“So… d’you forgive me?”

“I’ll think about it,” Draco sighed, chewing on his lip. “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest either, but… I need to think about it.”

“But I’ve apologized,” Blaise folded his arms.

“Yeah, you did, but the way you behaved was quite ridiculous. I can’t just forgive you like that. I hope you understand it’s sort of hard for me,” he said calmly, then stood up. “Thank you for your apology.”

Blaise and Pansy exchanged glances as he left the common room, his bag slung around his shoulder.

“My, my,” Harry said as he saw Draco sprawled on the couch, WSL book in his hands. “It’s the last day before the holidays and you’re still studying?”

He reached the couch and sat on the ground just in front of Draco’s face, who rolled his eyes. “I’m going to meet my relative tomorrow, dumbass. I need to make sure I know everything.”

“You’re really committed to learning this for some relative you don’t even know that well,” Harry commented, taking the book from his hands checking out which page he was on. “Oh, come on, this is easy.”

“Well, it’s not only for him now is it?” Draco said, reaching out for the book and glaring when Harry put it out of his reach. “I also have to learn it because of you. But perhaps some Ravenclaw is better off learning sign language for you.”

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. I just think it’s funny how you like a Ravenclaw girl,” he shrugged, sitting up properly.

“Are you talking about Cho?” Harry raised an eyebrow, moving forward and sitting down beside him on the couch. “...so you did listen to our conversation in Charms?”

“Listen? You were signing everything. It was hard not to pay attention, you know,” he scoffed. “Do you like her?”

“Draco-”

“Do you?”

“My God!” Harry cried out in annoyance. “Why does it matter to you if I do or not? Do you like Cho?”

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Why did it matter? When did the thought of Harry with someone else start hurting him? When did the thought of his soft lips on his become a daydream? When did the thoughts of Harry Potter fill his mind?

Why did his heart beat abnormally fast every time they touched, why did he find himself aching for more? He was Draco Malfoy and he was Harry Potter. They weren’t supposed to be friends, let alone… 

“Is that it? Do you like her? Are you jealous that I got to kiss her?” he persisted. “I didn’t think you would like a Ravenclaw, but… I’m not going to fight with you over a girl. God, Draco, why do we always have to fight? Why can’t we just-”

“It’s not you I’m jealous of,” Draco blurted, his face turning red as he stood up. “It’s not her I want to kiss,” he said, turning away from Harry.

“Then what is it? The only other thing I can think of is…” he stood up slowly. The blond turned around to look at him, his silver eyes shining with an emotion that Harry couldn’t decipher. They stared at each other until Harry looked up to see the mistletoe hanging above them.

“Was that a requirement?” he asked, his face inching closer to Draco’s, who laughed slightly. “You know, they say it’s bad luck if you don’t kiss under the mistletoe.”

“I guess we’re both stuck with bad luck, then,” Draco said, moving forward. He leaned downwards and brushed his lips against Harry’s ever so gently, as if to ask for permission. Their hearts were pounding as Draco kissed him again with more confidence, trying not to smile when Harry put his arms around his neck. It wasn’t a wet kiss this time. It wasn’t awkward and nor did Harry feel like it was some sort of obligation to be kissing Draco. It felt like a need that needed to be fulfilled.

Every time they stopped for air, their eyes met, only for them to go back for another. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. Draco kept his hands on Harry’s face, too nervous to touch him anywhere else. His whole body was tingling and he felt Harry smile, which only made his heart leap more. 

When they pulled away for the last time, Harry looked up at him nervously, breathing heavily. He put a hand to his own lips, not taking his eyes off Draco, too overwhelmed to say anything. The two flopped down on the couch, still buzzing from the kiss.

“You’re wonderful,” Draco whispered. “And I don’t know why, but the thought of you with someone else feels awful.”

Harry seemed surprised. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“You don’t need to say anything,” he shook his head. “I just wanted you to know that. I don’t want to fight with you Harry, not ever again. If you want to forget about…” he pointed to the mistletoe, “I understand.”

“I don’t think I forget if I wanted to,” he said, leaning closer to Draco again. “...could we try doing that again sometime, if you enjoyed it? Because I know I certainly did.”

The silver-eyed boy found himself unable to stop smiling. “We could try right now. It’s just you and me here.”

Harry leaned forward and kissed him, this time a little more intense, but still sweet all the same. 

***

“You’ve been grinning all day, you know,” Hermione said as she noticed Harry smiling to himself again as they entered the train. “It’s a bit alarming, actually.”

“Have I?” Harry asked, a smile still on his face, clutching his bag. “I’m just glad to be going home, you know, seeing everyone.”

“Right. Are you sure Cho didn’t see you again?” Ron asked as they walked past the Slytherin compartment. Both him and Hermione snickered. “You know, maybe for a round two…”

“Shut up, Ron,” he rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile. He looked ahead to see Draco seated. The two made eye contact, and for a brief moment, Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He gulped, then looked away quickly, smiling again as he walked past the blond, who was also trying not to smile.

“I swear you guys just eye-fucked,” Pansy whispered and Draco let out a snort. He was in too good of a mood to even get annoyed by her. She had been able to tell something had happened as soon as he entered the Slytherin Common Room the night before. She asked him what happened and Draco, too flustered to lie, came clean. “You two are like star-crossed lovers.”

“I’d hope not,” he replied. “That’d be quite depressing.”

“Well, have you discussed anything with him yet?”

“It’s barely been a day, Pansy. I don’t want to seem clingy,” he stated as if what he was saying was so obvious. “I don’t want to rush anything, either. It’d be quite embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

“It would be bold,” she corrected, but Draco just shook his head.

The holidays for Harry were rather depressing, if not lonely. They had gone to visit Arthur Weasley who had been attacked, and he barely talked to anyone the whole time. The whole mood had been ruined by the visions that had been bothering him. Their first night back at home, Harry had gotten a ‘dream’ about Arthur through the eyes of the snake, and they had all rushed to the hospital.

Harry couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. Along with his unexplained feelings for Draco, he was getting visions of the Dark Lord, and was barely able to communicate with anyone. He was quite grateful for being deaf during the holidays. It gave him an excuse not to speak to anyone.

Every morning, without fail, there would be Draco’s owl at the window with a new poem. Harry found himself writing back, either related to the poem or just something completely different, just to get his mind off of the things that had been eating at him. Those ten minutes every morning were the only eventful and positive thing about his days.

It wasn’t as if Draco had been having the best time either. As he arrived at Malfoy Manor, he knew things were going to be awful. He was unsure if he was able to tell because of the way his father had looked at him as soon as he entered. 

“Where’s mother?” he asked, watching as Lucius Malfoy looked up from his newspaper, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, until he curled his lip.

“Is that how you greet your father, Draco?” he asked, setting the newspaper down on the table in front of him. “Re-enter the room.”

Draco stared at him in disbelief, but the darkened expression in his father had tinged a fear in him that was all too familiar. He nodded, leaving and entering the room in a well-mannered position, trying to remember everything he had learnt as a child. Hold your head up, even steps, and more importantly, be the most confident person in the room.

“Hello, Father,” he spoke, trying to speak evenly.

“That’s better,” he nodded, a small smirk on his face, as if he knew just how much power he had over his son. “Your mother is in her room. The doctor was just in for a check-up. Go see how she is.”

“Yes, of course,” Draco said, turning and leaving. He made his way to his parents’ wing of the mansion, walking down the cold, empty hallways. He almost couldn’t believe that just a day ago him and Harry were kissing. “Mother, how are you feeling?” he signed as he entered. She looked up, eyes widening.

“Draco… did you learn sign language?” she asked while signing back.

“Of course,” he replied. “I had to. For you. How are you feeling?”

She smiled at him, the exhaustion in her eyes clear. “I’m alright. I’m sure you got the letter from your father… that I can’t hear at all anymore.”

“Yes,” he nodded, gulping nervously as he shut the door behind him. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I was selfish. Our last conversation… I don’t want you to remember my voice like that. I was out of line.”

“You don’t need to apologize for what happened. I understand. I was… just worried you wouldn’t want to learn sign language because of it.”

“You’re my mother,” he shook his head. “...and the only family member I can tolerate,” he whispered under his breath, walking over to her and hugging her. He knew he shouldn’t have; Malfoys don’t hug. They don’t show affection. Hell, they’re lucky if they even understand what love is. But she hugged him back, almost as if she had been waiting for him to.

“Draco,” she said softly, eyebrows furrowed. “How did you even learn sign language?” 

“Um… there’s a club,” he lied quickly. “You know, since Potter is deaf. I suppose they’re trying to be more inclusive.”

Narcissa looked at him with a small smile on her face. “So I was right? He is actually deaf and not… pretending, like you said?” she asked. She tried not to show it, but she was surprised by his signing ability. 

“I don’t see a reason for him to keep up a lie for so long,” he shrugged.

“The poor boy… what a horrible thing to go through. His whole life has been messed up. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it happened to you, and that’s what makes me so-”

“I understand, and I feel the same way, but… don’t speak so loud,” he answered quickly, speaking in a low tone. “You don’t know who could be listening. These Death Eaters would do anything to get on the good side of the Dark Lord.”

She looked at him, then nodded, taking his hands and holding them tightly for a moment. “...I suppose you’re right. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Have you heard of anything? A cure?” he asked.

“Your father has heard of some wizarding hearing aids being made. Not a cure, but… it would help me hear again.”

“Maybe you should try Muggle hearing aids,” Draco suggested. “Um… Potter had them. I, uh… threw them in the lake.”

She gave him a long, hard stare. “I suppose your father would be proud of that,” she said finally, but the disgust in her tone was clear. “Did you apologize? Did you pay him back for it?”

“I apologized,” Draco nodded. “Several times. I know what I did was wrong.”

“Well, good, because I didn’t raise you to be like that,” she said sternly. “Anyway, we tried to acquire them, but it was difficult. For now, I’m fine like this. Besides, wizarding hearing aids would be quite expensive.”

“That’s fine for us,” he waved his hand, then blinked. “Oh. For Harry…” 

“What about the Potter kid?” Lucius asked as he entered. Draco and Narcissa turned, and the atmosphere had immediately turned sour. “Off you go, then, Draco. Your mother and I have… some matters to discuss.”

He looked among both of them, and Narcissa nudged him. “Go. We’ll meet at dinner.”

“Right…” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, then…” he stood up and left the room. This was how every visit was for him. It was lonely, cold, and silent. He thought of Harry, wondering if he was alright. They wouldn’t be able to communicate except for letters. Draco realized he would probably have to send his letters early in the morning to avoid the risk of his father or anyone reading it.

***

Two days before Christmas, the poems had come to an abrupt stop. There was no owl tapping on Harry’s window. He decided not to question it - holidays were busy times, and he had a big family. A family full of Death Eaters…

He pushed the thought away. Draco was too young to become a Death Eater anytime soon, and just because of the Malfoys’ beliefs, it didn’t mean he would follow them. But… it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t. 

On the night of Christmas day, he picked up his quill, dipping it in ink and starting to write a letter.

Hey Draco,

No poems? Don’t stop them now. You’re getting quite good at them, you know. I hope you’re alright. Did you fall sick?

Christmas was odd. You know… Arthur Weasley was attacked, so things have been tense. I’m honestly starting to doubt everything. I guess I shouldn’t write it all here, there’s a risk this might get in the hands of someone else. 

I hope you’re well.

Harry Potter

He quickly rolled up the paper and sent it off with Hedwig before could overthink it. He knew it seemed clingy in a way, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but feel something was wrong.

The day before Christmas, Draco stayed in his room, lying under the covers of his bed. He had about five or six poems simply hidden under his pillow, but he knew he couldn’t send them. More so, shouldn’t. Malfoy Manor had held a Death Eater meeting two days ago, and the things he heard made him realize the depth of the situation he was in.

He shouldn’t have let it come to this. What was he thinking? Harry Potter ? His father’s enemy? 

He quickly sat up when he heard a knock on his door. Lucius came striding in without waiting for a response. “What are you doing?” he asked. Draco sat up, confused. “Come, sit,” he patted the chair beside him. “I need to talk to you.”

The blond, wary, got up from the bed and sat down across from his father. “Is something wrong?”

“Not… particularly,” Lucius said. “Remember what we discussed in the summer, Draco?”

He did not want to remember. “Yes,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

“You will be needed for a task soon,” he stated. Draco felt his blood run cold. “The Dark Lord needs something to be done. I’m not sure what yet. But I can convince him that you are worthy of it.”

He stared at his father fearfully. “I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Especially not Harry.

“Did none of what I told you in the summer get into your head?” Lucius stormed, raising his voice. “Sacrifices need to be made for the Dark Lord to succeed. You’re letting your emotions overcome you. What is it about Hogwarts? Every few months you need to be told the same things again. Do you need to be reminded-”

“No,” he said quickly. “No. I understand, Father. When the time comes, I will help.” He had learnt to sound genuine when he said these things. 

“If you-” he stopped, taking in a deep breath. “I understand if you are afraid, Draco,” he said in a calmer tone. “But this isn’t something to be afraid of. You’ll soon understand what opportunities I’m granting us.”

Opportunities? Or time in Azkaban? Draco kept his thoughts to himself, nodding. His expression was unreadable, and he hoped he seemed at least somewhat composed in front of him.

“...Alright, good,” Lucius nodded. He stood up. “I will leave you to it, then. Come down early for your Christmas presents tomorrow.”

He watched him reach for the door, and at the last moment, he spoke. “If I was in Harry’s place…”

Lucius turned around, looking at him questioningly.

“As in, if the Dark Lord was after me,” he explained, trying to tread carefully, “for whatever reason… would you sacrifice me for him?”

His father’s cold eyes bored into his soul. There was complete silence, until finally, he spoke in his usual icy tone. “Don’t ask me such ridiculous things, Draco,” he said finally and left rather swiftly.

It was only natural that he was asked to be a Death Eater. Practically his whole family was. It was the most logical thing, and he knew it was bound to happen. This wasn’t something to mope over, or to be hurt by.

What hurt Draco the most is that his father didn’t say no.

Hermione and Ron didn’t question the shift in Harry’s behavior. He had been fine Christmas day, but the whole week after, he went back to barely talking to anyone. They didn’t want to keep prying. He had already seemed tired of their worrying.

As they entered Hogwarts Express to return to school, Harry kept an eye out for Draco. Had something happened? This was strange. Even for whatever reason Draco had stopped writing poems, he wouldn’t ignore his letter, would he?

Draco was seated beside Pansy once again, only this time, as Harry walked past, when their eyes met, he quickly looked away. Harry embarrassedly averted his gaze, quickening his pace. Hermione and Ron followed after, both giving Draco a disgusted look as they passed.

“What happened to eye-fucking?” Pansy asked as soon as they left, turning to look at him, concerned. “Did you guys talk during the holidays?”

“It was a bad idea,” he said.

“What was?” she asked, frowning, edging closer to him. “Did something happen, Draco? I heard your mother was sick-”

“I don’t see how it’s your business, but she’s fine,” he said firmly, expression hardening.

“Talk to me, Draco,” she said in a soft tone, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m on your side here. You know I love her. I’m only worried.”

He felt his eyes sting with tears. “She’s deaf,” his voice was quiet. He was grateful that they were the only ones in this carriage. “She fell really sick last year, and now she’s deaf. It was something to do with her eardrums.”

Pansy stood up and shut the blinds so that anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to look inside. She sat back down beside him. “I’m sorry,” she spoke finally, running her hand up and down his arm. “But I’m sure Harry would understand this, right?”

“It’s not about that,” he shook his head. “The Dark Lord is back, as you know. It’s just… complicated with my family right now. Apparently, we need to prepare for his return…”

Pansy kept her eyes on him, as if she didn’t know what to say.

“...it was stupid to let myself start liking him, wasn’t it? I was stupid,” he mumbled, resting his head against the window as he watched the mountains. “Of all the people, I had to go for the person that I’m supposed to hate the most. It was dumb.”

“So, that’s it? The first time I see you smile in months; genuinely smile, and you’re letting go of him already?”

“Pansy, if anyone in my family found out about us… it wouldn’t be only me in danger, but Harry as well. Besides, I should back out while I’m ahead,” he stated. “You were right, you know. We are star crossed lovers. Meaning there’s no point in it.”

She stared at him for a moment, then smacked the back of his head. “I get it. Your family doesn’t like him. But why should you let that determine how you feel about him hmm? Since when are you a follower?”

He blinked. “Do you think I want this, Pansy? I’m trying to protect both mine and Harry’s lives here. This isn’t a joke. If the Dark Lord is really back… we’d be at opposite sides of a war. What don’t you understand?”

“You have a choice here,” she said. 

“I’ve made my choice.”

A week passed. Draco ignored Harry’s presence, didn’t send any more poems, and nor did he show up on Friday. Harry, too humiliated, had only waited for fifteen minutes this time. Did Draco really just play with his feelings? But the poems he had sent in the holidays sounded so genuine…

Harry entered the Great Hall on Saturday morning, practically slamming his textbook on the table. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything. 

He glanced over to the Slytherin table, where Draco was laughing and talking with Pansy, Blaise and some other friends.  Their eyes met and Harry’s expression was somewhat confused yet also pissed, and he quickly looked away. He needed to talk to Draco one way or another.

After breakfast, Harry took his time to get back to the Gryffindor Common Room - it wasn’t as if he had anything to do.

“Harry,” Pansy called out, then shook her head at her stupidity, quickly tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around, and for some reason, he had been hoping it was Draco. He frowned when he looked at her. “Do you have a minute?”

Looking around, he nodded slowly when he noticed Draco was nowhere in sight. After making sure everyone was gone, they both quickly slipped into a broom closet. “Um… why do you need to talk to me?” he asked finally. He couldn’t recall a time where he and Pansy had ever even spoken properly, but what he knew was that she wasn’t the type to insult or be rude to him.

“You can understand me, right?” she asked, making sure to enunciate. Harry nodded, and she smiled. “Right, so… Draco wants to see you. At six.”

He looked at her, somewhat confused. He didn’t know how much Draco had told her, so decided to play dumb just in case. “Malfoy… wants to see-”

“He told me everything,” she smiled slightly. “You don’t need to pretend. I know you’ve been helping him with sign language.”

“Hmm. So do you know why he’s been avoiding me?” he asked, his eyes lighting up slightly. She winced, unsure of how much she should let on, and how much she should leave for them to talk about by themselves. She cleared her throat awkwardly, already knowing that it was a risk she was doing this. 

“I really think it’s better if you talk to him today,” she said, shaking her head. What threw Harry off was she seemed genuine, unlike what he had noticed before. “Go wherever you usually meet. He’ll be waiting.”

“...Alright,” he said.

***

When Harry entered the Room of Requirement, he noticed Draco was already sitting at the table. He looked up as the other entered, and the two stared at each other until Harry made his way to the table.

“Um… Pansy said you wanted to see me,” Harry said.

Draco looked at him, a confused expression on her face, then cursed under his breath. “Pansy told me that you wanted to talk to me,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I did think it was strange that you asked her instead of just sending me a letter, but… whatever."

He stayed silent for a moment. “So there’s really nothing you want to say to me?”

The blond looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Is there-”

“Yes?” Harry folded his arms. “Like… I don’t know, how you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wouldn’t go as far to say avoiding. I mean-”

“So… you throw my hearing aids into the lake. I earn three weeks in detention because of you. Then when I finally think I’m ready to move on from it, you ask me to teach you sign language for a relative you say you don’t even care about, then… then you get mad I kiss a girl, and then you kiss me yourself. You send me these poems that make me blush and smile, and now you won’t even look at my face. If that’s not avoiding me, then I don’t know what is.”

Harry was speaking so fast that he didn’t even bother to sign, his face starting to turn red. He didn’t know if he was even comprehensible, but he didn’t care.

Draco kept his eyes on Harry, frowning. He took in a deep breath, then finally opened his mouth. “I thought it over,” he said slowly. “My feelings. You. My family. The Dark Lord.”

There was a pause, as if Draco was thinking of the right words to say. Now that he was here, in this moment, it was much harder to push him away. Maybe it was the way Harry looked like his heart was breaking, or maybe because he looked close to tears. Or maybe it was because Draco had never felt so strongly for someone before, and didn’t want to push away someone who made him want to be a better person.

“You know,” he said, standing up, “we’re practically on opposite sides of a war.”

Harry sat down on the floor, too worried his knees would give away. “War… war-” he gulped, trying to blink away tears. He knew this already. Why did it hurt so much to hear from Draco? “But…"

“I admit, what I did was stupid,” Draco said, sitting down across from Harry on the floor. “Avoiding your letters. But I’ve realized that we can’t do this, you and me. I don’t- I don’t want to be in a position where I have to choose between you and my family. I didn’t think it through.” 

It was quiet for a moment, and Harry looked down at his hands as he played with them, trying not to give away how shitty he felt. “Did you like me at all?” he mumbled, standing up. He had to leave. It was bad enough that he was practically being rejected. He didn’t want Draco to see him cry, too.

“Harry, it’s not about that,” Draco raised his voice, starting to grow somewhat impatient. “You and I could both lose our lives. Is it really worth the risk?”

“Worth the risk,” Harry echoed, nodding, as if he understood now. He reached into his pocket, taking out a small box and slamming it on the desk forcefully. “No, I suppose it’s not.” 

“What’s this?” he asked, looking down at the box questioningly.

“A Christmas present,” he replied. “I wanted to thank you for everything.”

Draco frowned, unsure of what to say. He was holding himself back, unsure if it was from hugging Harry or crying. Either way, he shook his head. “I can’t take this, Harry,” he said quietly. 

“No,” Harry snapped, tears in his eyes. “It’s tainted now. You can throw it away. I, uh… I don’t want to look at it.” 

With that, he left.

Hours later, in his dorm, Draco stared down at the box, wondering what it could possibly be. He was almost afraid to open it. With trembling hands, he opened the blue velvet box. Inside was a small piece of paper and a bracelet with two charms. One was a silver bird and the other was a music note.

Draco stroked his finger gently over the bird charm, then unfolded the note.

Dear Draco,

I’m not sure what’s wrong, but I found this store on my way from St Mungo’s Hospital. I got you this charm bracelet, just as a way to thank you for your help. I would’ve been so behind this year without you. Other than that, I just want to thank you for being my friend. Five years late or whatever, but yeah.

The bird, it reminded me of the one from your poem. You know, about the bird. And the music note because of the singing. It’s odd right? You don’t have to wear it. I just thought of you when I saw the two charms.

Merry Christmas

Harry 

He put it on his left wrist, staring down at the tiny bird. It was a thoughtful, meaningful present. The bracelet actually suited him. He decided to keep it. It was too pretty to throw away.

The image of Harry’s teary eyes came into his mind, and he felt regret flood through his chest. It bit at him, almost like a stabbing pain. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Harry again, and that was exactly what he did. He almost wanted to go to Harry and tell him that they could be together, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too risky for both of them.

What he felt for Harry was unlike anything before, which was probably why it frightened him even more. He didn’t want the first person he actually liked to be in danger all because of him and his family. He knew his upcoming responsibilities and didn’t want to hurt Harry. But… what if Pansy was right? What if he would be missing out on something great? What if he didn’t have to be a Death Eater? 

He could only dream.

***

“That bracelet looks nice,” Pansy smiled as she sat down beside him in the Great Hall. “Did someone get it for you for Christmas?”

Draco looked down at his wrist, quickly pulling his sweater over it. “Um… yeah. Harry gave it to me. I know I shouldn’t, but…” he paused. “Speaking of which, why did you set us up like that? I… wasn’t prepared for it.”

“Because I knew if I left it up to you, you would never talk to him about it. You would just avoid it and never give him an explanation,” she sighed. “Other than that...I hoped you two would have been able to sort things out.”

“We did,” he said. “I told him I didn’t want to risk anything. He gave me this and left.”

“That’s not sorting things out!” she snapped.

“Yes it is. I told him my feelings and how I felt. He should respect that.”

She shook her head at him, then sighed. She had meddled enough. She didn’t want Draco to get mad, nor did she want to pressure him into anything  “Well… if you feel that’s best, then I suppose I support that.”

The rest of the week went by painfully slow, and Draco had not realized until now how many classes he and Harry actually had in common. It was strange to go back to not talking daily. He found himself thinking of things to write in a poem for Harry, only to remember poems weren’t necessary anymore.

At night, thoughts of Harry consumed him. Was this the right choice? Was Pansy right? What he knew was that this was bigger than him. It was something out of his control. 

On Friday morning, Harry woke up after a rough night. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep. There were too many thoughts circling in his mind. It was hard to do anything this past week.

Breakfast was boring and lonely as usual. Everyone was having a conversation and Harry had decided long ago he was ‘too deaf’ to engage in them. He left before anyone else was even done with his breakfast.

By the looks of it, Draco was really taking all of this seriously. He was pretending that Harry didn’t even exist, which hurt more than he thought it would. His words would randomly come into his head: ‘worth the risk’. Was Draco worth the risk? More importantly, why did Draco think that Harry wasn’t worth the risk?

He made his way to Potions, unsure of what to do anymore. On top of these feelings he had to get rid of, he was worried about Voldemort. Maybe in that sense, Draco was right. As a Malfoy, he would be expected to be a Death Eater.

“We will be brewing the Draught of Peace today,” Snape announced. “I expect you all to know the ingredients already, as we covered it last lesson. Get into pairs before I do it myself.”

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, who winced. He tried not to cringe in embarrassment. Well, of course those two would want to work together. Who would want to work with the deaf kid? “Er… alright, Harry, I’ll work with you,” Hermione said, but the look on her face made it seem like she was being asked to do a chore. 

“No, it’s fine. You can work with Ron,” he said. “I’ll find someone…” he looked around the Gryffindor side, pursing his lips when he noticed everyone was in pairs already. He jumped when Snape tapped him on the shoulder.

“No partner, Mr. Potter?” He asked, glancing over to Ron and Hermione who were awkwardly moving to get the ingredients they needed. 

“Um… no,” he replied.

He sighed and looked around, then nodded. “Go work with Mr. Malfoy.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Malfoy,” Snape repeated agitatedly. “Go.” 

“For fuck’s sake,” he whispered under his breath as Snape practically dragged him to where Draco was standing, who looked up, raising an eyebrow as he looked at both of them.

“Oh, uh… I thought it was an odd number, so I was going to work alone,” Draco explained. 

“You two, work together. For the sake of my sanity, be civilized with each other,” he snapped, then quickly walked away. Harry, annoyed, readjusted his robes and set down the Potions textbook in his hands.

After a moment of awkward silence, Draco decided it was better to just pretend nothing happened. “Um… alright,” He started to sign. “I’ll brew the potion. You tell me the ingredients.”

“Why can’t I brew it?” Harry asked.

“Well, because I’m much better at Potions than you,” he said with a small shrug. Harry scoffed in response, but didn’t say anything, flipping over to the page. “How much of this powdered moonstone is-”

Harry kicked his foot suddenly, trying to casually make it seem as if he had just stepped closer to the cauldron in front of them. 

“Um, ouch,” he yelped dramatically. “What was that for?”

“Stop signing,” the other said. Draco followed his gaze, which was to Hermione and Ron, who were both staring at him suspiciously. “Just talk to me normally. I can lip-read.”

“...right,” he nodded, trying not to seem caught off guard. So Harry really hadn’t told anyone about the two of them. This was surprising mainly because from Draco’s understanding, Harry was really close with Ron and Hermione. 

After adding a few ingredients, Harry noticed the cauldron was filling up and sighed irritatedly. “Can you pull up your sleeves?” he reached forward and grabbed Draco’s hands, yanking up the sleeves of his robes and shirt, stopping when he noticed the bracelet on his wrist.

Draco, who had been trying to avoid this very situation, embarrassedly pulled his hand away, taking off his robe and putting it to the side. He cleared his throat then nodded. “...right, the next ingredient?” he asked, lowering his hand and trying to hide it.

Harry, who was still taken aback, gulped, then turned back to his textbook. “Um, right… seven drops of hellebore.”

Draco picked up the vial of hellebore, using his right hand instead so they wouldn’t have to look at the bracelet. There was silence until Harry gasped. “You put ten drops! It said to put exactly seven-”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Potter,” he shook his head. The two stared at each other, unsure, then peeked into the cauldron to look at the potion, which exploded in their faces. Liquid went everywhere and everyone in the room looked up, surprised by the noise. 

Draco and Harry both took a few steps back from the cauldron, then turned to look at each other. The potion was still somewhat of a light green slime and now it was on their faces. There were a few quiet snickers. Harry quickly looked away, trying to hide his smile.

Draco nudged him. “...don’t laugh at me! You should’ve stopped me!” 

“Why did you put so many drops in the first place?” Harry retaliated. “I said seven!” 

“How is this-” 

Snape came into view. “...Twenty points from Gryffindor and ten from Slytherin. Now go get cleaned up before I give you detention,” he said, giving them both a deathly stare. The two quickly nodded and left for the bathroom in silence. 

They washed the liquidy slime off of their faces. Draco was done before Harry, but found himself waiting for him. The two stood there for a moment too long, until Draco finally spoke. “...you have some in your hair,” he mumbled while signing. 

Harry put a hand to his hair. “Where?”

The silver-eyed boy stepped towards the sink, gathering some water in his hand and rubbing it over the spot in Harry’s hair. “It’s easier if I do it,” he said when he noticed Harry staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Why didn’t you throw away the bracelet?” he asked. Harry felt Draco’s hand against his head slow down. 

“Well… I don’t see a reason to. It was given as a gift, was it not?” Draco asked in a defensive tone. He looked down at Harry, who looked at him as if he didn’t believe him one bit. “Shut up.” 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, I just… yeah, I like the bracelet okay? It’s not as if… this is the first time I’ve received a meaningful gift or anything,” he replied, wiping his hand against the towel. “We should get back.”

Harry watched him walk towards the exit, then finally spoke. “One month,” he blurted loudly. Draco stopped, turning to look at him, eyebrows knitted.

“What?”

“You want to see if this…” he walked closer to Draco, “was worth the risk, right?” Harry tried not to show his trembling hands, chewing on his lip nervously. He didn’t even know what he was saying, nor had he thought it through. But his gut feeling was telling him to go with it. 

The blond nodded slightly, looking at Harry suspiciously. “I guess,” he folded his arms.

“So… uh… be with me for one month. Now, I’m not sure if it could work out either. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. Draco, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not to this extent.”

He looked down, frowning. “Harry, I told you, I don’t want to be in a position where-”

“Look,” his voice was shaky, “I know that out there, you have to be a Malfoy and I have to be Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. But… when we’re in that room, away from the rest of the world, it feels like I’m just Harry, and you’re just Draco. And it feels like everything will be okay again.”

“Harry…”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you to do anything.”

Draco stood still, looking anywhere but into Harry’s eyes, then finally spoke. He wanted badly to say yes, but his brain was telling him to think logically. “What if we find that it’s not worth the risk?”

The brunet hesitantly reached forward and took his hand. His heart was racing and his cheeks were flushed. He was being bold for someone who had just been rejected. “Then we go back to being Malfoy and Potter.”

“And you’d be okay with that?” he asked, his eyes stinging with tears when he noticed Harry’s trembling hands. Gulping, he held his hands with both of his own in an attempt to steady them. “We’d have to go back to being enemies.”

“That’s… fine,” he said, shaking his head. “As long as I know that we tried.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Harry,” he whispered, holding back tears. “Pushing you away feels awful.”

“Then don’t,” he urged. “Be with me. One month.”

Draco held onto his hand tighter, pushing any sensibility he had aside. He pushed away the thought of his father, and whatever task he would be asked to do soon. All that mattered to him in his moment was what Harry had said to him, because he was right. They would be stupid not to try, right?

“Okay,” he nodded, putting his hand to the other’s cheek. “One month.”

And before he knew it, Harry was kissing him.

That Friday evening, Harry managed to get past the Gryffindor Common Room and entered the Room of Requirement, a smile appearing on his face when he saw Draco sitting there already. 

“Hey,” he greeted, sitting down across from him on the table. They hadn’t spoken since they had kissed in the bathroom then awkwardly went back to Potions, where they had to clean up the mess that they had made. It was harder to hide their smiles, however, no one seemed to notice nor care.

Draco nodded at him. “How was dinner?” 

“Boring. Ron and Hermione asked me why you knew some sign language. I just asked them how I was supposed to know that,” he shrugged, getting out his books. “Oh, by the way, how did it go with your relative?”

He stared at him for a moment, blinking in surprise. “Oh, right. It went well. She- He was really shocked that I knew sign language. But…” he trailed off into silence, thinking about how the mood had been ruined because of his father, then shook his head.

“But...?”

“Ah, nothing. Just… my father ruined the mood. I mean, it’s not as if Malfoy Manor is particularly lively, but I don’t know. I was hoping for something different this time,” Draco said, looking down at the table. “But enough about me. How was your holiday?”

“Sucky,” Harry said, studying Draco’s expression before explaining. “Some people think I’m being possessed by Voldemort.”

He flinched at the sound of his name, eyes widening when he processed what he said. “Possessed?” he echoed, frowning. He tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation. “Well… are you?”

“No,” he sighed. “At least, I don’t think so. I’ve just… been getting these visions. It makes it hard for me to sleep.” Draco reached forward and held his hand carefully, as if he was afraid to do so, but Harry squeezed his hand in return, looking down at the books in front of him. “And I have these dreams - no, nightmares… never mind.”

He knew better than to press on, instead stroked Harry’s hand. “Don’t feel like working?” he asked finally, unsure of what else to say. This was new territory once again, and the last thing he wanted to do was mess it up.

“No. I mean, it’d be an awful first date, right? A study date… yuck,” Harry said, grinning.

“Oh,” Draco gulped, nodding. “I suppose you’re right. Then should we go on a real date tomorrow?”

He looked at him, taken aback. What surprised him the most was that Draco actually seemed dead serious. “Draco, I was joking,” he said, letting go of his hand quickly, feeling his face warm up. 

“Well, I’m not,” he replied, an amused look on his face. “You do know how relationships work, right? Do you even know what a date is?”

“Shut up,” he snapped, trying not to grin. “A date. Wow.”

“Yeah, I’m not entirely convinced-” he laughed when Harry smacked him on the shoulder. “Okay, just meet me here tomorrow morning. Everyone’s going to Hogsmeade anyway, so we can spend the day together.”

He opened his mouth to agree, then remembered the DA. “Er… I can spend the morning with you, but not the afternoon. I have… some work to do.”

“Oh, right,” Draco said suddenly, eyes lighting up as he remembered. “Umbridge was telling us about some stupid suspicion she had about you. When do you need to go?”

“About one p.m.?”

“Okay, then meet me here tomorrow at eight,” he shrugged. Harry narrowed his eyes and Draco looked at him questioningly, confused by the look he was getting. “What, is it too early for you or…?”

“No, no, eight is good. I just… you’re not asking me about whatever it is I need to do?” he asked.

“You’d tell me if you wanted me to know,” he said. “Besides, it’s better if I don’t know since I’m supposed to be reporting any information I get to Umbridge.”

“Thank you. Merlin, how can you even stand her?”

“I can’t,” he shook his head. “The bullshit she says makes me want to cave my own head in.”

The two exchanged a small smile, and with that, their Saturday plans had been made. 

***

Draco was pacing up and down his empty room, glancing over to his bed which had an enormous pile of clothes that he had tried on. It hurt to look at, but for once, that was the least of his concern. He looked up, relieved to see Pansy entering the room, seeming just as rattled as him.

“Fear not,” she declared, holding her head high, “I’m here.”

The two stared at each other until she squealed loudly. “Okay! I’m freaking out! I didn’t prepare for this!” she admitted, seeming as if she was actually quite disappointed with herself. “I should’ve seen this coming. Of course Harry would’ve been able to convince you-”

“Stop! I need to meet him in thirty minutes! Just… help me!” he whined, gesturing to all the clothes on his bed. “What do I wear?”

“Clothes,” she replied, yelping when he hit her shoulder weakly. “Just wear a sweater and these jeans.” She picked up his black jeans, holding it against his waist to see how it would fit him. “How come you never wear this?”

Draco stared down at the pair of jeans, wondering if it would fit him. It had been so long since he had even looked at them. “My father doesn’t like it when I wear jeans. He said it’s too casual and…” he trailed off into silence. Lucius had told him he had not looked good in them.

“Try them on,” Pansy said, holding it out to him. He took it, but winced. “Seriously. Your father clearly doesn’t have any fashion taste. Just try it. I’ll be honest with you.” She turned around so he could change. Once he did, he tapped her on the shoulder, avoiding her gaze.  “Draco! It looks great! Here, try this sweater with it.”

He stared at the sweater. “I…” 

“Are you alright?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she took his hands, guiding him to the bed. “Nervous?”

“Very,” he said, letting go of her hands and shaking his as if to shake off the jitters. “I just don’t want to mess up. It feels like all I do is hurt him. I’d really like to avoid doing that as much as I can.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “I understand. But also remember that he likes the honest version of you. Don’t try to be someone else. Don’t show him a facade. I think that’s what hurts him the most.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Wow. When did you become so wise?”

“Right?” she laughed, then stood up, handing him the sweater. “I trust you won’t fuck up your date?”

“I’ll try not to.” 

Meanwhile, Harry was at the Great Hall with Hermione, who had for some reason, woken up early. He thought he would’ve been able to sneak away like previous Saturday mornings, but it almost seemed as if she had been waiting for him in the Common Room today.

“You’re not eating?” Hermione asked. Harry winced. Him and Draco had decided to go on a picnic deep in the forest, away from everyone. It was the only option they really had. “Come on, eat something at least.”

“Uh…” he picked up a piece of toast, taking a small bite out of it. He felt her heavy gaze on him, then sighed. “I’m not hungry.”

“Why not?”

“You ought to ask my body that question, not me,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I’m going to go study-” he took in a sharp breath when she grabbed the back of his sweater, pulling him back. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Studying? On a Saturday morning? Even I can’t force you to do that,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. She opened her mouth, seeming as if she was debating on what to say. “Do you have a girlfriend, Harry?”

“Do I have a girlfriend,” he repeated rather mockingly, smiling awkwardly. “What kind of question is that?”

“A question I’d like answered. Am I wrong?” she asked.

“Of course you’re wrong! Like I’ve said before, which girl would want to date me? I’m lucky if people even. find me tolerable nowadays.”

“You’re selling yourself short. You know plenty of girls like you,” she said.

“I don’t want them to like me,” he responded. She kept a stony gaze on him until he shrugged. “I’m going to study, alright? I’ll be back by lunch.”

“Who studies for that long? That’s-” she checked her watch, then looked up, only to see that he was already walking away. “...five hours,” she finished, frowning. Why was he so far away recently? Could it be about Voldemort? She felt as if she had somehow failed Harry.

***

Draco looked up when he saw the door open. It was five minutes past eight and Harry seemed out of breath. He raised an eyebrow. “Did you forget?” he asked, smiling slightly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“No,” he said after he caught his breath. “Hermione was questioning me. I had to lie and run away before she made me tell her the truth.

“Is there something wrong with her knowing?” Draco asked, looking at him inquisitively. “I mean, she’d probably come attack me or something if she found out, so I’m glad you didn’t tell her.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s just… I don’t expect her to understand. Besides, she really hates you even more because of the whole incident with the hearing aids.”

“I don’t blame her,” he nodded, standing up and picking up his bag. “Should we go?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, taking out his Invisibility Cloak. “We should be under this until we leave the castle. You know, just in case we see Umbridge or a prefect. By the way, how are we going to have a picnic if we don’t have any food?” The two watched as a basket appeared on the table in front of them. 

“Well, that answers it,” Draco gazed in amusement, opening the basket to see a bunch of snacks inside. They left the Room of Requirement. He felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder, slightly startled. The cloak felt weird on him, and he just followed Harry’s movement. To their luck, there were only a few students walking in the hallway, presumably to breakfast, not aware of the two under the cloak.

When they reached the entrance of the Forbidden Forest, Harry took the cloak off them, looking in, then turned to Draco. “Nervous?” the silver-eyed boy asked, and the other rolled his eyes, smiling.

“I’ve faced the Dark Lord. I think I can handle a forest,” he said, striding into the Forest, yet as Draco caught up to him, he grabbed a hold of his hand. Draco stared down at their hands, lips twitching in amusement. “I can hold the basket. You’re holding your own bag anyway-”

“I got it,” Draco said. “Don’t worry.”

They walked in silence. Draco found himself glancing over to Harry again and again, who was looking around, admiring the trees as they walked. It was strange to be like this. Quiet, calm, almost soothing. Usually, they’d either be bickering or in some sort of uncomfortable tense silence. 

“I like your outfit,” Harry spoke finally. Draco looked over at him, looking at him as if he didn’t believe him. “I’m serious. I like it,” he said, using his free hand to tug at his sweater gently.

“Oh, well,” he gulped, at a loss for words, “...thank you.”

“I’m a bit hungry,” he said, reaching forward and grabbing the basket from Draco’s hands.

“Hey-”

“Crisps!” Harry exclaimed excitedly, taking out the packet, snickering when Draco grabbed the basket from his hands, glaring at him. “What? I skipped breakfast for this date. I think it’s only fair I get to eat on the way.”

“That defeats the whole purpose-” he was shut up by Harry who stuffed a crisp into his mouth. “I could’ve choked, I hope you realize!” the two stared at each other as they continued walking. Draco cleared his throat. “What flavor is that? It’s not bad.”

Harry grinned, taking another crisp and putting it in his mouth. “It’s so good! Now I finally have some energy.”

As they finally settled on a place to eat, Draco spread out the blanket as the other scavenged into the basket, taking out a bunch of food. He sat back and watched Harry do so.

“Hey, so… has Cho talked to you recently?” he asked. Harry looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “I just mean… she might think there’s something between you two."

“Well, you kissed me and could avoid me perfectly fine, why couldn’t she do the same-” he pushed away Draco’s hand that was reaching to smack him, laughing. “Kidding, kidding! Anyway, like I said, she only kissed me because she was feeling sad about Cedric.”

“Well, you could be sad about Cedric too. I don’t see you kissing anyone.”

“She was his girlfriend, it’s different,” he shook his head, taking a sandwich and breaking it in half, handing Draco the other one as he bit into it. “Besides, I’ve tried to push it aside. At least she’s in touch with her emotions.”

“I’m sure it’s not good to bottle them up,” Draco tilted his head, biting into his half of the sandwich. He hadn’t expected the conversation to turn in this direction. “I know that’s probably a dumb thing to say, considering the whole Wizarding World doesn’t believe you, but you don’t need to hide it. He was your friend.”

“I think of him sometimes,” Harry admitted. “It’s small things. I see someone smile and think of him, or I walk past the prefect’s bathroom, or I have a dream… it’s all weird. I know my life is crazy, Draco, I do. But I never expected someone to die because of me. If I had known… I wouldn’t have…”

“You couldn’t have known,” he said quietly, edging closer to him. “Don’t blame yourself for it. I know it’s easy for me to say it, but…” he paused. “Oh, right,” he dug into his bag and got out a small box. “I got you some chamomile tea. It helps with sleep. You were saying it was hard for you to sleep, so…”

Harry took the box, opening it and seeing a bunch of tea bags inside. “Draco, you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t really know the extent of the nightmares or visions, and I know these won’t help them go away, but-” he tried not to fall backwards onto the grass as Harry hugged him tightly. “Wow. Wasn’t expecting that,” he said as he hugged him back.

“It’s enough that you were listening, but you also did this…” Harry was smiling as he pulled away, his face flushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Draco said, smiling awkwardly, unsure of how to behave in front of him. He busied himself with his sandwich, keeping his eyes down.

“By the way,” he said as he set the box aside and watched Draco. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up over the incident anymore.”

“Well, have you forgiven me yet?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Why does that matter?”

“Because if the answer’s no, it means it still hurts you, and that makes me feel awful.”

He shut his eyes, breathing in the crisp air. Despite it being mid-January, today was a warmer day than most. “It’s not as if it changed anything. The hearing aids wouldn’t have worked either way.”

“Still. It was my intention behind it.”

Harry took his hand gently. “I forgive you,” he said after a moment of silence. “Don’t let it bother you anymore.” He felt the gentle breeze against his skin and breathed in deeply, smiling when he felt Draco squeeze his hand. “It’d be a wonderful day to just ride on your broom, don’t you think?”

“It’s a bit chilly,” the blond replied, using his free hand to sign. “But we can go for a ride.”

“We can’t,” he pouted. “My Firebolt is still with Umbridge, remember? Banned because I’m deaf… whatever.”

“Right,” he nodded. He remembered the first match of the season. Umbridge had deemed Harry unfit to play due to not being able to hear just before the match. He had caused a fuss and in result she had taken his broom as a punishment. In result, the Slytherins had won. “She’s a bitch.” He took out his wand and murmured a spell. 

“What are you doing?” Harry asked. He followed Draco’s gaze, who was looking at the broom that was flying at them at top speed. Draco stood up and grabbed it, then turned to look at him.

“Hop on, Potter.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Draco asked, getting on the broom. Warily, Harry got on as well. “Just hold on to me tightly,” he said, taking Harry’s arms and putting it around his body. Before he could register what was happening, they were up in the sky. 

The air up there was colder, but he didn’t mind. He found himself smiling as he looked into the distance, seeing the castle. He tightened his grip around Draco, who was picking up the speed. The wind against his skin was rough yet freeing, almost as if he needed this. 

As they reached the lake, Draco went downwards, closer to the water. 

“Are you mad?!” Harry screeched as their shoes were dipped into the ocean. He felt Draco laughing as they went back up. “You’re crazy,” he breathed as he twirled the broom around, going in loops as well as upside down. 

Draco turned back to look at him. “Relax,” he grinned as they turned, going towards the lake again. Harry let out a shaky breath, this time using his right hand to touch the water as they went past. He could feel his stomach drop as they went high and low, both laughing hysterically. It was thrilling. 

And best of all, Harry had forgotten about the weight on his shoulders, forgotten that he was deaf, the nightmares, the visions, and the nightmares. It felt free to be here with Draco, and he didn’t feel guilty about Cedric. 

When they finally reached the ground, Draco slowly got off the broom, turning around to look at him, a wide grin on his face. “How’s my flying skills-” he was cut off by Harry, who pounced on him, kissing him fiercely. Draco was knocked backwards onto the grass. He groaned in pain and Harry pulled away.

“Sorry,” he panted, looking down at him. “Did I take you by surprise-”

Draco put his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him down, closing the space between their lips. The kiss was fiery, fervent, fantastic. Draco's lips were soft, practically aching for him. Maybe it was the way the leaves were gently rustling, or the quiet atmosphere of the forest, or the way Draco was kissing him.

Maybe it was because of the blond that walked him all the way back to the Gryffindor Common Room afterwards, or maybe it was the poem he had sent later that night, or maybe it was because Harry found the kiss lingering on his lips long after the date was over, or maybe it was because for the first time in weeks, he had slept peacefully; but this time, it truly did feel like things would be okay again.

I get lost in your kaleidoscopic eyes

When I’m with you, time flies

This feeling in my chest, tingling, 

This song in my head, singing

The thought of your lips against mine, 

Feeling our hearts intertwine,

It’s enough for me to feel okay again

God that was a bit cringe wasn’t it? Sorry. I was thinking of something else to write about but I could only think of you. Wow, even that sounded horrific. Sorry.

Goodnight,

d.m. 

“Another letter, huh?” Ron said as he sidled up beside Harry, grabbing the letter from his hands. His eyes lit up as he read the first few lines of the poem, almost as if he was excited. “I get lost in-”

“Hey!” Harry snapped, snatching the letter back. “No one said you could read it.”

“I didn’t see the whole thing. Who’s D?” he raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Are there any Gryffindors that have a name from D?” he gasped. “Is it Dean?”

He rolled his eyes. “No one said anything about a Gryffindor,” he pointed out, then instantly regretted it. “Forget it. You’re not going to be able to guess.”

“...Daphne Greengrass?” Ron asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harry scoffed, folding the note and putting it on his bedside table, unsure of what to say. “You know, yesterday… I wasn’t studying. I, uh… I was on a date with someone.”

“Daphne?” he repeated, yelping when he smacked him. “Kidding! But come on, I’m your best mate! Was it Cho?”

“No, it wasn’t. I already told you, I don’t like her anymore. If I ever did, I mean…” he trailed off into silence, thinking about Cedric again, then shook his head. “Listen, don’t tell Hermione I have a… girlfriend.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded. “She’s still worried about you, you know. Maybe if you tell her you have a girlfriend, it’ll ease her up a bit.”

“Later,” he sighed. “I know she’s going to ask me a billion questions if I tell her. I need to prepare for that kind of thing.”

The two exchanged a small smile.

“How was your date, lovebird?” Pansy asked as she entered the dorm. “You avoided me all evening yesterday!” 

“Only because you were going to press me for answers! I still needed to process everything that happened,” Draco exclaimed, but there was no hiding it. The date had gone extremely well, and what gave away this was his wide grin. “I can’t stop smiling.” 

“I can tell. It’s a bit creepy, actually,” she commented, then flopped down beside him. “Tell me everything.”

After Draco had told her everything, if possible, his grin was even wider than before. “It was perfect. I wasn’t sure if it would go well, you know, considering we couldn’t possibly do what normal couples do, but… we made it work.”

“So you two are keeping it a secret?”

“I think we’d end up on the first page of the Daily Prophet if we don’t. Besides, it’s safer for both him and me to not tell anyone. I think you’re the only one who knows about us, so…”

“Yeah, well, that’s understandable. And do you also feel like an idiot for giving up on the relationship so easily?” 

Draco folded his arms, his expression darkening. He had forgotten about the bad things for a moment. “There are still responsibilities waiting for me, Pansy. I just didn’t want to be in a situation where I would hurt him again."

She took his hand. “Just be honest when it happens. Whatever it is that you’re dreading. If you guys work through it together it’d be easier.”

“Yeah…” he looked away, trailing off into silence, unsure of how to tell her that being a Death Eater would end their relationship on the spot.

***

“Hello hello,” Harry smiled as he entered the Room of Requirement. “Early as always?” 

“Late as always?” Draco retorted, keeping his eyes on the other as he sat down across from him. “Hey,” he leaned forward, his face all serious. Harry leaned in too, frowning, wondering if there was something wrong on his face.

“Something wrong?” He questioned.

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s just…” he leaned forward, kissing him on the lips quickly, taking Harry by surprise. “I haven’t kissed you in a week, you know.”

“It’s been six days.”

“Goodness! Too long,” Draco said dramatically. “We need to make up for lost time.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t have to if you didn’t declare me your sworn enemy in first year,” Harry rolled his eyes, but he was blushing. “Come on, then,” he said, leaning forward, his lips mashing against Draco’s, as if the kiss from a moment ago wasn’t enough. He felt Draco smile into the kiss, both pulling away to catch their breaths. 

Harry could feel his heart pounding and Draco’s face was flushed.

“By the way,” the blond said, and Harry could feel a banter coming up. “You’re the one who rejected my handshake, so really, who declared who sworn enemies?”

“Okay, one,” he sat upright, “you were being a dickhead! Who in their right mind would be friends with someone who’s insulting their friend? Two, not accepting your handshake didn’t mean we had to be enemies . I never disliked you!”

“It was a handshake of friendship. If you reject that, of course it means we have to be enemies!” 

“Just seems like an ego issue to me,” Harry shrugged, smirking. “Did I hurt your ego, love? It’s okay. I can shake your hand now if you like,” he said, holding out his hand, letting out a laugh when Draco, defeated, simply smacked his arm away. 

“Can we get to work now?” Draco asked. 

“Hey, you’re the one who brought it up.”

“I didn’t bring up anything- you know what? Forget it,” he held his head up high. “I’m just going to read from the textbook. You better get started with your Potions essay. I know you haven’t done it. It’s due on Monday.”

“...would this be a bad time to ask you what Potions essay you’re talking about?”

“Harry!” Draco scolded.

“Draco!” he said back in a completely different tone in an attempt to mock him. “But you’re serious? We had an essay? I’m fucked.”

“...it’s fine, I’ll help you,” the blond said finally, walking over and sitting beside him. “It was an essay on the stupid potion we mucked up… er… Draught of Peace, was it? Yeah, that. He set that last week, you know.”

“I told myself I’d do it later but I procrastinated so much I forgot about it completely.”

Draco rolled his eyes, feeling himself grow impatient. “You can’t do that anymore. You’re already so behind on your studies. Am I supposed to help you with homework or help you understand the concepts?"

Harry looked at him, groaning. “I know,” he admitted. “I don’t suppose you did it as soon as it was set?”

“Well, no, but I did finish it in time, and now I get to relax rather than trying to finish it two days before the due date,” he said, then noticed Harry’s dejected expression. “...it’s alright, I said I’ll help. Just start the introduction, alright?”

Harry tried not to smile, unsure if Draco was aware that he had been running his hand up and down his arm reassuringly. He looked around the room. The walls that were initially grey were now white; the small bookshelf was now big enough to be called a library, the couch had a blanket, and there was a window by the table. 

He averted his gaze to Draco, who cleared his throat. “I’m thirsty. I don’t suppose I could just ask for some tea?” he asked, to which Harry simply shrugged. The two stared at the table in front of them, and suddenly, two cups of piping hot tea appeared. Draco picked up one of them and set it closer to Harry’s reach. “Drink up. I asked for chamomile.”

Harry looked at him for a long moment. He could feel butterflies in his stomach, but he was unsure why. 

“What?” Draco asked, frowning.

“...nothing,” he shook his head, picking up the cup and taking a sip. “You know, um… I really liked the poem you sent me on Saturday.”

“Oh,” Draco scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “It didn’t seem like I was clingy?”

“It was cute. Have you ever considered becoming a poet?”

“There are more important things than being a poet, Harry,” he scoffed. “And I’m nowhere near good,” he gulped. He felt rather uncomfortable to talk about the poems he wrote, especially when they were about Harry. “But… uh… thanks.”

“I think you’re better than most poets out there. You know, you kinda get straight to the point while still managing to have some hidden meanings in there.”

Draco’s face was pink by now. He gripped his cup tightly, unsure why his chest felt so tight. The underlying hope that Harry would enjoy his poems were there, yet to hear him say it was something else entirely. “...forget it,” he replied, shaking his head. “Has the chamomile tea been helping you?”

“I’ve been sleeping better,” he answered, taking a sip of the tea. Harry didn’t question why he wanted to change the subject. “Like you said, they obviously wouldn’t be able to get rid of the nightmares, but… at least I get a few hours in.”

“That’s good. If you ever need more I can get you some.”

They fell into a silence as Harry got started with his essay. Draco picked up his WSL book and started reading, surprised to feel Harry’s hand rest on his thigh under the table. He couldn’t help but realize Harry was right. In this room, where they were away from everyone, they were in fact just Draco and Harry. 

***

“Morning,” Pansy said as Draco sat down beside her at the Slytherin table for breakfast. “Slept well?”

“Like a log,” he answered, his voice still raspy. “But I’m still tired,” he yawned, smiling when Pansy put some food on his plate. “Thanks.” He looked up to see the family owl in front of him on the table, jumping. 

“Letter from someone?” she asked, taking it from the owl and handing it to Draco, who was wide awake now. His parents had never sent letters except for news about Narcissa. A dark feeling in his chest overcame him as he opened the letter.

Meanwhile, Harry was already eating, today actually making an effort to listen to Ron and Hermione’s conversation. He had another nightmare and wasn’t able to sleep much, but still, knowing that today was Saturday eased him, since he could see Draco again. He looked over to the Slytherin table, raising an eyebrow when he noticed he was reading a letter.

All of a sudden, Draco stood up and exited the Great Hall. Harry stood up, startling Ron and Hermione. 

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

Harry looked over to Pansy, who met his gaze, shrugging in confusion, then nodding her head in the direction that Draco had gone. He nodded slightly, then turned and looked down at Hermione. 

“Er… I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back,” he said, then quickly left. When he went out to the hallway, he frowned when he saw Draco by the door of the Great Hall. He turned around, his bloodshot meeting Harry’s. There were tears rolling down his face and he was struggling to catch his breath. “Draco,” Harry said softly, taking a step towards him.

“Sorry,” Draco signed, shaking his head. “I can’t…”

“Did something happen?” he asked. “Is it the letter?”

He looked down at the letter in his hand, folding it. “Forget it, Harry,” he said, wiping his tears away quickly. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he replied, and despite the harsh word, his tone was ever so gentle, concerned. He took Draco’s hand, who held onto it tightly, unable to meet his eyes. He felt as if Harry had seen a stupid, embarrassing side of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?”

Draco shrugged, and the other started walking, leading him up the stairs. They made their way to the Room of Requirement. He could feel tears threatening his eyes again, but tried to hold them back as Harry sat him down on the couch, rubbing his hand up and down Draco’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“What are you sorry for?” Harry asked. “Crying?”

“No,” he sighed. “That you have to see me cry.”

The Gryffindor gave him a small smile. “I cry all the time. Well, not all the time. I think I felt a few tears come down my face last week when I dropped my book. Now that’s embarrassing isn’t it? I also cried three days ago because I was in the shower and the water wasn’t hot enough,” he rambled. He looked up to see Draco smiling through his tears. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t know you cry a lot.”

“It’s more like a few tears. I… don’t really allow myself to feel sad about Cedric and everything else, so… I suppose it comes through frustration of other things, if I’m being honest. We all need a good cry, don’t we?”

“Harry,” his voice cracked slightly. He reached forward and took his hand, gulping. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through something like that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault. Neither is it mine,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face. “I’m sorry there’s something bothering you, though,” he tilted his head, leaning forward and kissing Draco’s forehead gently. “I heard that makes people feel better.”

Draco chuckled. “It helped, thank you,” he said while signing, looking down at the letter in his hands. “It’s my mother,” he blurted suddenly. “She’s fallen sick again.”

“Again?” Harry asked, frowning. “Was she sick before?”

“Yeah, um… she fell sick last year and lost her hearing a few months ago,” he spoke, chewing on the inside of his cheek nervously. “That’s why I was asking you for lessons. Anyway, uh… now that she lost her hearing, I thought she would get better, but… my father said it comes and goes. I’m just… worried.”

Harry blinked in confusion, adjusting his glasses. “So there’s no old relative that came to stay with you?” he asked. Draco shook his head. “Oh, Draco,” his voice was soft. He put his arm around Draco, who leaned his head on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he looked up so Harry could understand what he was saying. “Are you mad? That I didn’t tell you?”

“Mad? No,” he said, stroking Draco’s hair, who shut his eyes. Crying had tired him out again. “I wouldn’t have wanted to say it if I was in your place. I understand. Thank you for telling me now.”

“Mhm,” Draco hummed, finding himself getting comfortable in Harry’s arms, slowly drifting off. But just before he fell asleep, a half-asleep thought had occurred to him, one so quick that he perhaps would not remember thinking it when he woke up. One that, if said out loud, would change everything.

He is worth the risk.

Two weeks passed. Things were changing, perhaps for the better. Harry was smiling more, despite the nightmares and visions. The end of their one month was near, yet neither of them had brought it up. They would meet every Friday and Saturday. Fridays consisted of actual work whereas on Saturdays, both of them would find it hard to focus and end up doing something else. 

“Uno,” Draco smirked as he set down his second-last card. “I’m truly… not sorry.”

Harry tried not to smile, staring down at the three cards he had left, lips twitching in amusement. “And I…” he sighed, setting down a plus four card, “am not sorry either. Truly.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he groaned, taking four cards from the pile. “Ooh, be prepared to lose-”

“It’s still my turn. I choose the color red… and uno,” Harry said as he set down a skip-turn card, then a normal red card. “I win.”

“Fuck you,” he set his cards down, folding his arms. “This is the fifth time in a row you’ve won. You’re definitely cheating!” he exclaimed.

“No, I’m just strategic.”

“Strategic? In a stupid Muggle game? Whatever,” Draco huffed, standing up and walking towards the window. The sun was starting to set. He turned around to look at Harry again. “Did we really spend the whole afternoon playing board games?”

“So it wasn’t a stupid Muggle game when you were winning in Monopoly?” Harry questioned, standing up and making his way to Draco, kissing his neck softly, who moved further into Harry’s arms, letting himself get distracted for a moment.

“Hey,” he said, pushing Harry back gently so he could see his lips while he talked, keeping his hands on his face, “I’ll give the Muggles this game. It’s good, realistic, and- are you listening, Harry?”

Harry had been staring at Draco’s lips, yet not a word had registered in his brain. He reached forward and used his index finger to gently trace over the blonde’s lips, smiling slightly to himself. “I’m deaf, of course I can’t listen,” he said.

Draco chuckled. “I fucking hate you,” he whispered, pushing Harry down on the couch. The two smacked each other repeatedly, both squirming and giggling like little kids until Harry rested his head on Draco’s chest. “You’re lucky it’s in the best way possible.”

“I do consider myself lucky,” he stated. He sat up, intertwining both of his hands with Draco’s, looking up into his eyes. “Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“That it is."

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I wish,” Draco sighed, “but Pansy, Blaise and me are going to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Besides, we’ve spent two days together already.”

“Barely a day and a half, actually,” Harry corrected, “and that’s not nearly enough out of seven days a week. Not when Friday evenings are spent studying.” He shivered dramatically.

“Mind you, we’re supposed to be studying right now too,” he pointed out. Harry simply smiled, leaning forward and kissing him, shutting his eyes. Draco ran his hands up and down his back, subtly lowering down to his ass. “I said studying, Harry.”

“I’m researching,” Harry moaned into his mouth.

“Researching what? How to turn me on?” Draco asked between kisses.

“How it’s possible to be so attracted to someone’s face when their personality is so shitty,” he responded. Draco pushed him back a little, and they stared at each other in silence until they burst into laughter, moving to kiss each other again. 

***

“You ready to pay, Draco?” Pansy asked as she ran a hand through her hair, looking over at him. “Come on, can’t you choose one thing for him? Don’t you know what he would like? You’ve been dating for like, three weeks now?”

“Shh,” Draco put a finger to her lips, keeping his eyes on the jewelry in front of him. “I need to get him something special. I want him to know how I feel. So I need it to be perfect.”

“A necklace could be good. Easy to hide,” she suggested.

“A necklace of what, though?” he groaned. “None of these would be good for him!” He looked around the store, gasping when something caught his eye. Pansy followed him, raising an eyebrow at the necklace he had picked up. “I know it’s simple, but… it’d symbolize something we talked about.”

“You should get it,” she smiled. “It’s cute. Meanings behind your gifts.”

“I think so too,” he replied, grinning to himself as he looked down at the charm bracelet on his wrist.

He looks at me with sincerity,

Masking his love with hatred,

Not an irregularity 

But what we have created,

Something so unexplainable,

Usually unattainable,

I found in my greatest foe.

-d.m.

P.S I hope you had a good Sunday. Write back when possible.

Harry, face flushed, folded the poem and placed it in the box he had. He was thinking of getting another box as his current one was almost overflowing. The Saturday coming up would be there one month anniversary, and he couldn’t help but be nervous. Although they were having fun, did it necessarily mean that he was worth the risk? He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to grow attached to Draco, only to have him break his heart.

Shutting his bedside light off, despite himself, he thought of his boyfriend, with his stupid smile and his stupid hair, because at the very least, he had him for one more week, and he was grateful for even that.

“Hey Potter, still deaf?” Draco asked as they both entered the Great Hall the next morning.

“Hey, Malfoy, still a pain in the ass?” Harry retorted. 

Draco let out a snort, and Hermione and Ron behind Harry stared at him, eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat. “I mean, is that really the best you can do?”

He simply shook his head and made his way to the Gryffindor table, afraid if they looked at each other a moment too long they would burst into laughter. It was incredibly funny to throw insults at each other when they knew they didn’t mean it.

“Malfoy’s been weird recently,” Hermione spoke up, picking at her food. “He seems… bubblier or something. Less nasty, too. He barely even insults me anymore.”

The agreement between Draco and Harry was that they would continue to insult each other, but keep their friends out of it, in the risk of saying something that could possibly start something. That way, they were making it believable enough without causing issues between the friend groups.

“Maybe he’s turning a new leaf,” Harry shrugged. “I don’t suppose you expected him to stay the same forever.”

“No, I suppose not,” she said. “It’s just… quite sudden and unexpected.”

“Can’t argue with that. However, he’s treating me the same, so… I can’t say much,” he said, turning around and catching Draco’s eye, who rolled his eyes at him, then looked away and smiled to himself. “He’s… intolerable in the most tolerable way.”

“Harry, that makes no sense.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t make sense either,” Harry replied, looking down at his food. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, but said nothing in response, choosing not to comment on the fact that he was smiling.

***

The week was slow, and Harry didn’t know if he should’ve been grateful for that or not. While he couldn’t wait for Friday, he was deeply dreading Saturday. It was a moment of truth; or a test he had to pass, except he had brought it upon himself. 

When Friday finally came along, Draco was behaving normally. Had he forgotten? No, he couldn’t have. Their one month deal was clear. He sat down across from Harry, the two silent as they did their own work. Draco now sometimes also did homework with Harry.

“So,” Harry cleared his throat, sneaking glances at Draco. “Tomorrow is…”

He looked up, waiting for Harry to finish, but he simply sat there with his mouth slightly open, frowning. “Tomorrow’s… Saturday,” he finished, gulping nervously. Draco nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Got another Muggle game for you to cheat on?”

Harry was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “I do have another board game in mind, actually,” he beamed. “It’s called Life. What do you think?”

Draco rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “Sounds stupid. Let’s play it.”

As the past week had passed, Draco had been growing nervous. He remembered that Harry too needed to know if their relationship was worth it. He had been trying to tell himself that it was okay; and he had to be grateful for even having a month of Harry Potter. He did not know what love was, and the more time he spent with Harry, he wondered if that was what it was. Enjoying the green in his eyes, his gentle touch, his lips. Perhaps it was the way the snow seemed prettier and how the sunrise was brighter.

He remembered what his parents had told him, more so his father. People needed to be ‘worthy’ of a Malfoy’s love. What was even love, according to a Malfoy? Despite how much he resented Lucius, he couldn’t deny the nights he had found his father pacing back and forth last year, worrying about Narcissa as she fell sicker and sicker by the day. 

Draco looked over at Harry now, who was scribbling away on a piece of paper, mouthing to himself the words he was writing. He smiled slightly to himself. Whatever happened the next day, would happen.

***

“I’m concerned,” Harry said as he held onto Draco tightly, putting a fearful hand to his blindfold. “You’ve taken away the only sense I can depend on! What’s the point of this?” 

Draco just smiled, knowing even if he spoke, it would be pointless. Harry couldn’t see nor hear him. Bringing out his broom, he nudged Harry, who put his hand out. 

“Okay, so we’re going on a broom now? Draco, I’m terrified! Please-” 

Draco put a finger to his lips, kissing him gently, as if to tell him to relax. Harry kissed him back, then huffed. “Fine. I’ll keep it on for five more minutes,” he gave in, wrapping his arms around the other. The fact that he couldn’t see where they were going made him more nervous, but he decided to put his faith into Draco’s riding skills.

When they reached, he carefully let Harry off the broom, then took off his blindfold. “Whoa,” he breathed, looking over to Draco, still holding onto his hand. “Draco!” he stepped forward on the cliff, looking out at the golden sky. The sun was rising. “Now I’m not mad that you made me wake up so early!”

“Harry, six a.m. isn’t that early.”

“Six a.m. is like midnight!” 

Draco shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the sun, a smile on his face. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it, Harry?” he asked, nudging him gently. Harry, who had been staring at Draco’s face, reached forward and gently cupped his face.

“It is,” he whispered.

“My face or the sunrise?” Draco asked jokingly, but his eyes were glinting.

“Both?” Harry answered, his eyes boring into Draco’s, his face all serious suddenly. “Today marks one month,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to say anything, but… it’s not fair. We made an agreement.”

“Why didn’t you want to say anything?” he asked quietly.

“Because,” he looked down in embarrassment, biting his lip, “maybe if you forgot, things don’t have to change again.”

Draco gently used his hand to tilt Harry’s head upwards, his platinum hair falling into his eyes. “Nothing has to change,” he shook his head.

“But the agreement-”

“Was to see if this was worth the risk,” he spoke gently. “And I made my decision.”

Harry said nothing, looking up at him. His bright green eyes in the sunshine only gleamed more. Draco stayed silent for a moment, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small velvet box, handing it to Harry.

“You’re worth the risk,” Draco said while signing, making sure what he said got across fully. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, feeling a huge weight on his shoulders leaving all of a sudden. He opened the box to see a necklace, with the letter D in silver “D?”

“I love being Draco with you,” he said softly. “Just Draco. Not Malfoy, not a family full of Death Eaters, not a follower. I love being your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend,” Harry echoed, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Really?”

“Really,” Draco nodded, then frowned. “Unless… you decided this isn’t worth the risk. I completely understand. I mean, it’s your life at stake-”

Harry held up the necklace. “Help me put it on?”

The Slytherin looked at him for a moment, then nodded, his shaky hands unable to unclasp the necklace. When he finally put it on, Harry grinned, turning around to look at him, cupping Draco’s face with both of his hands, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs.

“This goes without saying,” Harry said, “but you’re worth the risk too, you know.”

“I am?” Draco’s voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “I am?” he repeated, more clearly. “Are you sure?”

“What, do you need me to write you a poem to help you believe me?” he asked, and Draco snorted. “Ahem. Draco, darling, you are quite fun… would it be okay if I made a pun? Okay I sort of set myself for failure here… do you want some Butterbeer?”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” he laughed. “And stop making fun of me! I spend time on those poems!”

“I’m not making fun of you! That was a genuine attempt,” he said, trying not to laugh. “Would you like me to try again?” He straightened his back, running his hands through Draco’s hair. “Ahem ahem, my love-”

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Draco scoffed.

“But now I’m your pain in the ass,” Harry winked, grinning widely and fiddling with his necklace. “Good luck. I can’t even stand myself sometimes. I’m being a hundred percent serious-”

He quickly shut up Harry by capturing his lips in a kiss, who shut his eyes and wrapped his arms around Draco’s neck, who pushed him down on the ground, kissing his neck. Harry arched his back, leaning his head back, smiling. Draco had told him what he was hoping for, and now, he could melt into his touch without having the lingering feeling at the back of his head, telling him that Draco would leave him soon.

“Say that again,” Draco said when he pulled away, panting. He had locked Harry in place with either leg by his hips. 

“What?” Harry asked, putting his hands under Draco’s sweater, looking up at him. “I can’t stand myself sometimes?”

“No, the part where you said you were mine.”

“I…” he laughed slightly, confused. “I’m yours?”

“Wow,” Draco said, inching his face closer to Harry’s, “it feels so good to hear that… right here,” he took Harry’s hand and put it over his heart. 

Harry stayed silent for a moment. “I was under the impression it was making you feel good here,” he said, putting his hand over Draco’s crotch, who gasped slightly. The two stared at each other for a moment too long. Harry’s lips twitched in amusement. “Am I wrong?"

Draco licked his lips, carefully removing Harry’s hand from his crotch. “No."

“How did you find this place, anyway?” he cleared his throat, looking around. They were on a cliff and they could barely see the castle in the distance, it was somewhat of a foggy sight. He looked back at Draco, who wasn’t making an attempt to move from his position.

“I was riding around on my broom a few months ago… upset about things. I needed to get away from my friends and everyone… I love Pansy and all, but…” he trailed off into silence, then shook his head. “Anyway, I found this place. I come here to clear my head sometimes.”

“I suppose we all need our safe space,” Harry nodded. Draco nodded, smiling slightly.

“And… there’s no one for miles,” he replied, tracing his index finger up Harry’s chest and wiggling his eyebrows rather suggestively. Harry let out a laugh in response. His face was a deep shade of red.

He gulped when he noticed Draco’s serious expression. “Brilliant,” he blurted. “That’s just… brilliant,” he breathed when he felt Draco’s hands under his shirt. He felt Draco’s lips all over his neck, his face, and eventually his stomach, feeling the cold air against his skin.

Draco tapped him gently, and Harry opened his eyes. “Are you cold?” he asked. “We… can go somewhere else.” Despite what he was saying, he was slowly moving his hands down to Harry’s trousers, who held back a moan. “Hey, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” he replied, leaning back. He shut his eyes again, then quickly opened them. “Are you sure?”

Draco grinned, undoing the button of Harry’s jeans. “Merlin, yes.”

Draco rubbed his eyes, groaning gently when he reached around for the alarm clock on his bedside table that was, in his opinion, much louder than it needed to be. A smile crept up his lips when he saw the time on the clock, the bright moonlight falling into the dorm. Luckily, it seemed that none of his roommates had heard the alarm.

He got out of bed, quickly getting ready, putting on the first pair of jeans and a sweater that he could find, brushing his teeth and sneaking out the door. 

It was five a.m. on a Saturday, the middle of March. A month had passed and things for Harry had been growing tense, but he barely said any of it to Draco. This was mainly because he didn’t want him to worry, but also the fact that Draco was really the only distraction he had from all of it. 

Draco entered the Room of Requirement, his gaze softening when he noticed a bed in their room, Harry practically passed out on it. He slowly made his way to the bed, but frowned when he noticed Harry’s sweaty forehead and the frown on his face. Chewing on his lip, he gently reached forward and caressed Harry’s cheek.

After a few minutes, Draco stood up to move to the couch, deciding he would wait till Harry woke up. Harry grabbed a hold of his arm, his eyes fluttering. 

Draco looked back down at him. “You’re awake?"

“Cedric…” Harry croaked, then sat up quickly, as if he remembered something suddenly, scrambling to get up. “I need to get to get to him before-”

“Harry, calm down,” he said, putting his hands on Harry’s shoulders, looking at him reassuringly, but he was still trying to get out of bed. Draco quickly stopped him.  “Hey, calm down, you’re safe.” 

He looked into Draco’s eyes, then shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the tears off his face that he hadn’t even noticed were there. “I just… I forgot where I was for a second. I’m fine.” He moved to stand up, but Draco pushed him back gently.

“You’re still a bit disoriented. Just gather yourself for a moment,” he said gently, concern written all over his face. He sat on the bed just beside Harry, stroking his hair softly as they sat in silence. Draco looked down at Harry’s trembling hands, but didn’t say anything, 

Harry’s breathing steadied as he calmed down. He sat up, moving away from Draco’s touch, tracing over the scar on his forehead. Turning his head, his eyes met silver ones that were looking at him rather expectantly.

“Was it a… dream, or…” his tone was careful, almost as if he was afraid to say the wrong thing.

Harry licked his dry lips, his eyes faraway. “A dream,” he answered, then shook his head. “A nightmare.”

“Right,” Draco nodded, looking around the room uncomfortably. “How often-”

“I’m fine,” he shook his head. His mouth was dry and his chest was aching for something; anything to fill the emptiness. Was it Cedric? Or was it Harry’s inability to save him? Either way, he couldn’t deny it. Cedric was gone because of him. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

“Harry, it’s not something you should be ignoring.” 

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his tone harsh. 

“Fine isn’t acceptable for me,” Draco replied, “not when it’s an obvious lie.”

“I’m not-” Noticing his expression, Harry’s eyes darkened. He folded his arms. “What do you want me to say? That I’m having nightmares of someone who died because of me? Because it was my fault? Or do you want to know about the visions I’ve been getting? Talking about isn’t going to help me.” 

“Well, not talking about it hasn’t helped. Why don’t you try something new?”

“No. I have a system. I dream, I wallow for five minutes, then I move on. It’s easier that way,” he sighed, swiftly losing the energy to argue with Draco. 

“It just… it hurts to see you like this.”

When Harry didn’t respond, he took in a sharp breath, keeping his eyes fixated on him. “Something happened to you. Something bad. You should talk about it. Sort your feelings through, not shut it out and hope it goes away.”

“I’m not hurting anyone by doing it my way,” Harry responded, his voice hoarse.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Draco whispered, “even if you don't realize it.”

“It’s easier to hurt myself than see others get hurt because of me,” he said before he could stop himself. He shook his head. “Forget it. I won’t say this again. Just leave the issue alone. I’m fine.”

“Harry-”

“Leave it,” he pushed Draco off of him. Slipping on his shoes, he stood up, turning to leave. Draco scrambled out of the bed, blocking his way quickly. “Draco, stop it.”

“Where are you going?”

He threw his hands in the air, shaking his head. “Back to my dorm. I don’t want to be around you right now.”

“I’m just worried!”

“I don’t need you to be worried!” 

“Why? What’s so wrong with that? I’m your boyfriend, Harry,” he said, taking a step closer.

“It’s not that, but… talking about it with you…” Trailing off into silence, Harry ran a hand through his hair, knowing that what he was about to say would be bad. His eyes moved down to Draco’s arm. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” asked Draco, starting to grow impatient. When Harry didn’t answer, he scoffed slightly, following his gaze to his arm. “Do you think I’m going to run off to tell my father about the dreams and visions you’re having? Is that it? You think I’m a Death Eater?”

“I didn’t say that-”

“You don’t need to,” his voice was shaky, following Harry’s gaze. “It’s pretty obvious.” He rolled up both of his sleeves. “No Dark Mark here, but do you want to inspect the rest of my body, too?” 

“Draco-”

“If you couldn’t trust me,” Draco whispered, trying to keep his voice steady, “why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie to you, Draco. This is my life on the line-”

“You think mine isn’t? Do you have any idea what would happen to me if my father found out, let alone the Dark Lord?” he raised his voice. “I go to bed every night thinking about how sooner or later I’m going to become one of them, and it’s painful, because I don’t want to hurt you. But turns out…”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” Harry stormed. 

“No, I don’t,” Draco shook his head, curling his lip in disgust, “because I’m considerate of your situation. But why should I care about this so much if you clearly can’t trust me?” 

There was a stunned silence, and Harry felt his throat closing up, unable to look Draco in the eyes. Letting out a bitter laugh, the blond shrugged. Words couldn’t describe the humiliation - or perhaps the hurt - he was feeling.

“Tell me one thing, Harry,” he spoke again. “Why the fuck did you tell me I’m worth the risk?”

“Because you are-”

“Only when I have something to lose?”

“This isn’t about you, Draco,” Harry fumed, “it’s bigger than you. It’s bigger than me, even. If I trust the wrong person, the entire Wizarding World could be in danger. What part of this is so hard for you to understand?”

“The part where you said you liked me in spite of that. The part where you told me I was worth risking all of that. The part where I thought you trusted me.”

“What, you think I don’t trust you because I won’t tell you a few nightmares and visions I’ve had?”

“No. It’s bigger than that. You don’t fucking trust that when it comes to the Dark Lord, I’d be able to keep my mouth shut about you. Do you think I’m reporting everything to my father or something?”

“You can’t expect trust to build so easily, not with us,” Harry shook his head.

“We’ve been together for two months!”

“Yeah, and we’ve been enemies for five years! Do you expect that to just go away now that we’re dating? You expect me to just forget the kinds of things you’ve done?” 

Draco nodded, his eyes cold. Harry knew that look all too well, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they had just reversed what had been six months of development in their relationship as Draco left the room of requirement.

***

“He’s been like that all day,” Hermione was saying in a low voice, frowning as she looked over at him. Ron and Ginny turned to look at Harry, who was curled up on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring into the fire. “Harry,” she said in a gentle voice, tapping him on the shoulder.

He jumped, looking up at her, concerned. “What?”

“Are you… okay?” she asked while signing. “Did something happen?”

He shook his head, turning his attention back to the fireplace. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. Much to their surprise, he spoke. “Yes,” he sighed, craning his head to look at them, “but I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?"

“Well… at least come to dinner. You’ve been sitting here all day,” Hermione said, frowning. She held her hand out, and he reluctantly took it, standing up. She wondered if it was a good time to tell him that she knew he had a girlfriend, but decided against it. He had been easily irritable lately when it came to things like that. 

They made their way to the Great Hall. Harry avoided looking at the Slytherin table at costs. If he saw Draco, he was unsure what he would do. It was better if he simply avoided him because what he knew was that the cold, empty look in Draco’s eyes would be too much to bear.

Draco’s face was paler than usual; and Pansy was practically force-feeding him. “Come on, I’m not your mother, Draco!” she complained. “Are you going to tell me what happened or just sit here like a baby?”

“Baby?” he echoed, looking highly offended.

“Out of everything I said that’s what you choose to respond to? For fuck’s sake,” she shook her head, then frowned when she noticed his expression. “Come on, Dray. We can go somewhere else if you want… hey, there’s your lover!”

“Lover-” he started, outraged, looking up to see Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny all going to sit at the Gryffindor table. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, looking back to Pansy beside him. “He can’t trust me.”

“With what?”

“Anything?” he responded, burying his face in his hands. “It’s stupid. He’s incredibly stupid.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Pansy was expecting him to scoff or be annoyed, but much to her surprise, he looked up, his eyes watery, nodding. Startled, she nodded, quickly getting up, gesturing for him to come with her. She linked her arm through his and they went up to the Astronomy Tower. Pansy knew this was a place, if anything, would help calm him down.

They walked towards the railing, and Pansy looked up at the stars, smiling sympathetically when she heard him sniffle. “He can’t trust you?” she asked, rubbing his back soothingly as he kept his eyes on the sky.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him, but… for fuck’s sake,” he quickly wiped his tears away, avoiding her gaze. “I thought Harry could trust me. He… thinks I’d go off telling my father if he says anything.”

She sat down on the floor, stretching her back. “I thought he said you were worth the risk for everything.”

Draco sank down to the ground too, fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist. “I thought we’d be able to move past it, but… with the way our relationship started… maybe there can’t be full trust between us.”

“Did you two break up?”

“No. I don’t know,” he responded, feeling his eyes well up again. He hated crying; once he started, he just wouldn’t be able to stop. “We both said awful things. But the bottom line is, I wanted to be there for him, and he didn’t let me because he can’t trust me.”

“Sounds like something you both need to work through.”

“Pansy, I’ve never done anything for him to question my intentions.”

“Yes, but you used to be enemies,” she pointed out, frowning. “Other than that, you come from a family that wants him dead. It’s only natural that he’s wary. Both of you need to sit down and talk about it calmly.”

“I don’t want to,” he whined, groaning. “Besides, I stormed off. I’m not exactly sure who’s supposed to approach the other after an argument like that…”

“It sounds awful,” Pansy admitted, putting an arm around his shoulder. “But give it time. Do you have any idea how genuinely happy you’ve been the past two months? Don’t let go of him so easily.”

He gave her an unsure look, but nodded.

***

Two weeks later, when Harry, Hermione and Ron were trying to make their way to the Room of Requirement, Umbridge had caught them with the Inquisitorial Squad. They took the three directly to her office, however the rest of the group was yet to be found.

Harry and Draco had not talked since their argument; and things were rather depressing. There were no poems written, none sent. Draco didn’t want to face how he was feeling, nor the fear that they would not be able to move past this.

“You understand what this concerns, don’t you, Mr. Potter?” Umbridge asked, and Harry wondered if she was purposely speaking fast so he wouldn’t be able to read her lips. He looked over to Hermione, who started to translate for him through sign language. “None of that will be necessary, Ms. Granger. Who knows what sort of lies you two might be cultivating?”

“How do you expect him to understand you if-”

“Enough, Ms. Granger!” she raised her voice. Her patience seemed to be wearing thin. Harry caught the eye of Draco, who seemed just annoyed as he did. “Mr. Fudge will be here soon. I need to greet him. Meanwhile, all of you,” she snapped her fingers to the Inquisitorial Squad, “find the rest of the group.”

The Squad started to file out, but Draco and Pansy hung back. “We’ll keep watch, Professor Umbridge,” he said, trying his best to sneer. “Make sure these three don’t try to come up with some way to escape.”

She looked at him for a moment, then smirked. “Good idea, Mr. Malfoy.”

With that, she left, shutting the door to her office behind her. Hermione and Ron both turned to Harry, who looked extremely frustrated. “How did she find out about this?” Hermione asked in a low voice, shooting a glare at Draco who was looking at her, frowning.

“I can think of someone,” Harry responded, turning to look at Draco.

He blinked in surprise, meeting Harry’s eyes. “What, you think I did this? I didn’t even know what you were up to!”

“You knew about the Room of Requirement,” he folded his arms. “It wouldn’t have been hard to deduce I was using it for other things too.”

“Well, yes, but why would I say anything? I hate to break it to you, but I didn’t do this. Although I’m sure you’ve been actively waiting for me so fuck something up between us,” Draco snapped, glaring at Harry.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, mildly horrified but also very confused at what was going on. Pansy, in the background, pursed her lips, deciding it was best if she kept her mouth shut.

“That’s not true,” he replied. “I just… you know, you could be doing this to get on my nerves.”

“Harry, if you honestly believe that, then I don’t know what to say to you,” Draco said, his expression faltering suddenly. The two were silent for a moment, then he spoke again. “I don’t know what you want me to do! You told me this was worth the risk.”

“Being worth the risk and trust are two different things,” Harry mumbled, but he knew it was wrong of him. His paranoia and fear was getting the better of him.

Hermione, impatient, tapped him on the shoulder. “Harry, what the hell are you two on about?” she asked, but he didn’t even look in her direction, too fixated on Draco.

“I’ve not done anything to prove you can’t trust me.”

“You’ve not done anything to prove I can,” Harry retorted.

“That’s absurd!”

“I mean…” Pansy spoke up, fiddling with the things on Umbridge’s desk, “Draco, you come from a family full of Death Eaters, and there’s been five years’ worth of rivalry and distrust between you two. I don’t blame him. On the other hand…” she looked up, startled to see everyone staring at her. “Did I overstep?”

“Go on,” Harry raised an eyebrow. “On the other hand?”

“On the other hand…” she repeated, “Draco clearly doesn’t want to follow the rest of his family’s footsteps, and it’s not as if he’s ever done anything in the past few months to cause distrust. You both knew what you were getting into and even had a month to test it out. Why is this an issue now?”

Harry looked at her, trying to hide his surprise. Though before the conversation could go further, Hermione slammed her hands on the desk, glaring at Pansy, who just smiled coolly back at her.

“Hold on,” Hermione interjected, glaring. “What’s all this about?”

“Wait a minute,” Ron spoke up. “The letters from D… they were from Draco Malfoy?”

“What?” she raised her voice, outraged.

Harry exchanged glances with Draco, before sighing. “I’ll explain it later. For now, we need to focus on the actual matter at hand. It had to be someone from the group,” he spoke, turning his attention to his friends. 

As Harry, Hermione and Ron dissolved into a silent conversation through sign language, Draco walked over to stand beside Pansy, frowning. She took his hand and squeezed it gently, trying to give him a reassuring look.

***

When they were finally sent back to their dorm rooms, Harry sunk down on the couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, leaning back, thinking about what Pansy had said. She was right. Draco hadn’t done something the past few months for there to be uncertainty. 

 Both Hermione and Ron stood in front of him somewhat menacingly. “Are you going to tell us why the hell you and Malfoy were talking about trust ?” Hermione asked, folding her arms.

“I’d rather not,” he groaned, but knew this was coming sooner or later. He looked around the common room, glad to see it was practically empty, then gestured for them to sit down. “We uh… we’ve been dating for two months now. Or were."

They both gaped at Harry in horror. “So-” Hermione spoke.

“You and-” Ron started.

“Malfoy?” she finished, flabbergasted. “Is he the one who kept sending you those love letters?”

“They’re actually poems,” he mumbled, but shook his head. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I just didn’t know how you’d react to me being bisexual, let alone dating our worst enemy.”

“I’d imagine that Voldemort is our worst enemy, but I get what you mean,” she replied, smiling slightly, then her expression hardened again. “But he’s Malfoy! He’s cruel, annoying, and… a dick!”

“Yes, but… he’s also apologetic, kind, nerdy, and stupid,” Harry sighed. “And it’s so easy to be around him. We were friends for a few months before and even had a while to try it out. So, please, just don’t tell anyone, okay? Especially when I don't even know where our relationship is going to go after this…”

“Well, of course we’ll support you being bisexual,” Ron nodded, “but you can do so much better than Malfoy, mate.”

“I don’t see it that way,” he shook his head. “I just… I’ve been afraid that if I say something, he could potentially tell his father or Voldemort. That’s what our argument was about. It’s been hard for me to trust him because of my fear.”

“Well, whatever Pansy said makes sense. You had time to try it out. Why’s the distrust coming up now?” Hermione asked. “Not that I blame you. Malfoy’s not exactly trustworthy.”

“He wanted to know what my nightmares have been about. I was too embarrassed to tell him. Not only that, I don’t want it to be used against me some way. What if You Know Who finds out my deepest fear and makes it come true? I know he might find out either way because he’s been into my mind, but…” Harry trailed off into silence, frowning. “I just…”

“Yeah?” Hermione urged gently.

“I just don’t want him to use Draco.”

Leaning his head against the window, Harry looked out at the view from his dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, his face expressionless. He thought back to when him and Draco used to be enemies. Maybe things were simpler then, for both of them.

Hermione and Ron were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that he was actually seeing Draco, however, did not bring it up to him. They couldn’t deny the fact that Draco had certainly made him significantly happier the past few months. Other than that, Harry seemed to sulk every time his name was mentioned.

Was he totally stupid for ruining things between them? He just didn’t want things to get complicated. Although, things between Harry and Draco couldn’t ever be simple. With their love, there would always be a little hatred, and with their hatred, there would always be a little love to spare.

Breathing deeply, Harry fiddled with the necklace in his hands. He had to think this through properly this time. Of course, there was a big chance that Draco didn’t want anything to do with him again. What Pansy had said lingered in his mind - she was right. Draco chose to be part of this. He chose to be with him in spite of the complications. It was a big risk he was taking too.

He thought of the time they had together so far - he wouldn’t trade it for anything else. It was refreshing to be around Draco; not only because of his honesty, but his fresh perspective on things. Harry had only ever known to think in a certain way, and his friends would usually agree with him. Draco would challenge him, give him a different way to think about it. Most of all, he was the only real love he’d ever known. He had friends, sure, and a lot of people that cared about him, however, being Harry Potter came with a lot of expectations and responsibilities, that all seemed to fade when he was with Draco.

Somewhere along the tangents in his mind, he had managed to leave the windowsill and snuggled into bed, eventually falling asleep. His thoughts had been racing more than ever lately, and he wondered if it was the stress from Voldemort or his incapability of trusting his own boyfriend. Well, that was a relative term now.

In the depths of the Slytherin dorm rooms, Draco was, despite his best attempts, unable to sleep. Checking the watch on his bedside table, he stared in disbelief. It was only midnight - he had been trying to sleep for what felt like hours. Removing the covers off of him, he picked up a sweater that he knew belonged to Harry, but made no effort to think back to when he could have possibly taken it by accident, perhaps on one of their Saturdays (or Saturdates as Harry called it once, and was given the silent treatment for the next twenty minutes).

He put the sweater to his nose, breathing in the distinct scent of Harry, then quickly pulled it over his head. Picking up the journal on his bedside table - along with a quill and some ink - he creeped out of his dorm and sat down at the Slytherin Common Room. He opened the journal, flicking through the poems he had written. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Harry had helped him find a new hobby; a way to express himself. The problem was most of Draco’s poems were about Harry, and with their fight, he couldn’t find much inspiration. 

He scanned through the most recent poem in his journal, one he was supposed to send to Harry, finding himself smiling bitterly. It was stupid; letting himself fall. No, it wasn’t that he let himself fall. It was that he didn’t think of what would happen once he hit the ground - once reality hit both of them. It was something looming the past two months, yet easily ignorable, if they tried hard enough.

Picking up his quill, he pursed his lips, staring at the dying fire in front of him, the quiet crackling of the wood. Moving closer to the fire, he straightened the fresh page of his journal. Perhaps confronting his feelings would help. 

Cat & Mouse

 A game of cat and mouse

Something to escape from,

Something to chase

In pursuit of something to keep,

In regret of mistakes made.

In this game of cat and mouse, 

Am I the one running or the one chasing?

Signing the poem off with his initials, he shut the journal, setting the quill down. He kept his eyes on the fire. He was growing tired of the situation, yet thoughts of it consumed most of his time. Standing up, he shook his head. Harry was probably not even thinking of him. He was stupid to even let it bother him this much. Of course he would be untrustworthy. He was a Malfoy, and that’s all people would see him for. 

What sucked the most was that he thought Harry wouldn’t be one of those people.

***

The next evening, Harry hung back after their last class was over, hoping to catch Draco. He didn’t want this to go on longer than it should, and decided it was best to talk to him. After all, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Pansy, who was waiting for Draco to pack up, caught Harry’s eye, who winced. She gave him a subtle nod. He chewed on his bottom lip, slowly walked out the classroom and waited by the door.

“You can’t be serious,” Draco was saying, “the whole point of it is…”

Pansy and Draco stopped short when they noticed Harry, who had a guilty look on his face. She gave her best friend a knowing look before walking off. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, then sighed. Better to address it, he thought to himself.

They made their way to the Room of Requirement, where the atmosphere was sour, cold and tense.

Draco didn’t speak, and nor did Harry, who seemed like he was trying to figure out what exactly it was he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said finally, unsure if there was really anything else worth saying. “Draco, I don’t know what I’d do with myself if Voldemort uses you to get to me. Whether you do it voluntarily or not; that’s not the point.”

“Harry,” Draco sighed. “You don’t trust me. I don’t know how we can go forward. Maybe it’s better if we break up. I don’t want to waste my time on you anymore. What I’m really mad about is that… you were the one who insisted on all of this. You asked for one month, and then you changed your mind?”

“I…”

“It doesn’t work like that, Harry, not with you and me. We don’t have the liberty of having a normal relationship,” he mumbled. “We can’t break up when we feel like it, and then apologize when we want to get back together. I thought this was clear.”

“I trust you,” Harry whispered - or tried to - he couldn’t tell. “I want to be with you without feeling guilty that I’m putting you at risk too.”

“I was at risk of all of it before you,” Draco folded his arms. “I’m a Malfoy. My life is going to be at risk whether I like it or not. If I’m a Death Eater, I’m risking my life. If I’m with you, I’m risking my life too. It was my risk to take. And even when I took it, you couldn’t trust me.”

“I’m sorry, Draco, I really am,” Harry was chewing on the inside of his cheek, “I was friends with Cedric, and what happened to him… I don’t think I can ever forgive myself for not realizing sooner. Besides, it would hurt more with you because I love…” he quickly stopped talking.

Draco’s eyes widened slightly. “Pardon?”

“...nothing.”

“Uh, anyway, what’s the purpose of this? Do you expect me to just forgive you and date you again? Because… I get where you’re coming from with all of this but… I don’t think I can move past it."

Harry nodded. “I understand. I just wanted to apologize. I know that… I was stupid. So… I’ll see you around, I guess,” he said, then moved towards the door. Draco was stunned - maybe it was the hope or delusion that they would actually be able to be together again, but no. Harry still didn’t trust him fully, and Draco didn’t want to be the only one trying in their relationship.

As Draco watched him leave, he realized this was the end of whatever they had.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Hermione studied Harry’s blank expression as he sat in front of the fireplace. “Mione, I’m deaf, not blind. Why are you staring at me?”

“Did you talk to Malfoy?” she asked.

He sighed. “Yeah. We’re done. He said he can’t move past this.”

“Well, look at it this way-”

“Hermione, if you’re about to tell me that Malfoy isn’t right for me-”

“No,” she cut him off, moving closer towards him. “I’d be stupid to not realize how genuinely happy you have been with him. He helped you in a way that I wish I could have. But… it’d have been dangerous. With You-Know-Who inside your mind right now, it’d be bad to be with him anyway, right?”

He couldn’t argue with that. Most of all, he wanted to be with Draco, but he couldn’t. He had ruined it.

***

A few months passed. The last of winter had left and spring passed, yet even the beautiful summertime couldn’t help the horrible feeling in Harry’s chest. It lingered in the daytime and worsened in the dark. The guilt for Cedric. The fear for his own life. The stupidity of thinking hurting Draco would be better than putting him in danger. The price of his backwards, disgraceful ‘bravery’.

Bravery was stupid. It cost him his boyfriend. Cost him a shit ton of things.

He was tired of being brave. Tired of spending the last four years fighting for his life, tired of spending this year as the sad disabled kid who could barely do any of his spells correctly. Draco helped that go away sometimes. It was eyes. No, it was his smile. Harry hadn’t realized that the past four years, he had only ever seen him smirk. His smile was different.

Draco Malfoy’s smile was like the calm after the storm.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Hermione shook him, breathless. “They must’ve gone the wrong way!”

Harry adjusted his glasses, squinting at her as he came back to reality. “Who?” he looked around the group, then cursed under his breath when he noticed Ron, Luna and Ginny weren’t anywhere in sight. The next few events were a blur in Harry’s mind. The only thing he should’ve been thinking about was what Lucius Malfoy had just told him, and saving his friends. Saving Sirius.

A prophecy about him and Voldemort. 

Yet he couldn’t focus. All he could think about how he couldn’t mess up, not this time. No one was going to die for him. Not Hermione, not Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna, anyone. He couldn’t let it happen, not again.

And then it happened. Sirius, gone through the veil. It was Harry’s fault, again. The words Remus said to him seemed to play in his head over and over again. 

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry… nothing. He’s gone.”

After that, all he could think about was Sirius.

***

It was the day of the feast and Harry had just questioned Nick about Sirius. He felt his chest ache for the first time since it had hit him that Sirius had died, and now he learnt that he wouldn’t be back, ever. Not as a ghost, not as a wizard, nothing.

He stood alone in the hallway, staring up at the ceiling. He didn’t want to cry. Before, he hadn’t had the time to. People were all over him, talking to him. It hadn’t hit him until now. The only family he had left was gone, and he was tired. Exhausted.

The first thing Harry saw was someone in the corner of his eye. No, not just someone. He looked back down from the ceiling and at Draco, who was looking at him, a frown on his face. “Hey,” he said finally, while signing. 

“Hi,” he responded, too lazy to sign.

They stared at each other in silence.

“So, I heard about-”

“I guess you heard-” Harry stopped, but so did Draco, so he decided to speak. “You know, when I had imagined meeting your father again, I didn’t think it would be like that. Not nearly. Though, I did expect violence. Like… I don’t know, food being thrown at me.”

Draco couldn’t suppress a smile. “Food?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d go over for dinner or something. But that was when we were still dating,” he put his hands in his pockets, awkwardly shuffling his feet.

“I heard about… Sirius,” he said quietly after a moment.

Harry looked up at the ceiling again. “Yeah… yeah, it’s… it is what it is.”

“Can I ask you something?” Draco asked once Harry looked at him again. “Why do you keep staring at the ceiling?”

“It helps me not cry,” he whispered, voice hoarse, but there were tears streaming down his face. “I was afraid of this, Draco. This happening to you, or to Hermione, or Ron. I thought it would be fine. That I could stop it from happening.”

“You’re only fifteen, Harry, you can’t expect yourself to be fully equipped to fight a bunch of dangerous adults part of a cult,” he answered, then gasped. “Shit fucking fuck, it’s a cult, and I have to join it soon!”

He blinked in surprise. Harry leaned into Draco’s touch as he wiped his tears away. “You do?”

“There’s no use in hiding it, I suppose. It’s inevitable, and I don’t want you to be surprised. I just want you to know that I’m not going to intentionally hurt you. My father is… cruel. I’m not him. I’m… more like my mother, in a sense-”

“I love you,” Harry blurted.

“What?” Draco’s eyes widened. “Harry… you’re grieving. You don’t mean that.”

“No, Draco, I do,” More tears ran down his face. “I’m sorry. What happened in March was stupid. I was scared of my own feelings, and I was scared that you would be hurt because of me. I can’t help Hermione and Ron, they’re like… my ride-or-die. But you, I could save you, which is why I tried to push you away.”

“You’re so stupid,” he muttered, but he stepped forward.

“You’re worth the risk, Draco, but not when it’s you I’d be losing,” Harry stepped forward too. “I saw what happened with Sirius. I don’t care anymore. I want to spend time with you. I’m all in, for real this time. If you’ll have me.”

Draco’s hair fell into his eyes as he gave Harry a long look. “...Merlin, you just reversed everything I had tried to do to hate you in the past few months. Harry, me being a Death Eater is something that will happen. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I’m not,” Harry shook his head. “I just want to spend time with you again.”

“Harry…” Draco heaved a sigh, then motioned for Harry to follow him, who did so, a smile on his face.

They were seated in the Room of Requirement once again. Harry missed the smell of light dust and Draco’s faint cologne in the air. He studied Draco, who was sitting beside him. He was still in his school uniform, but his tie was loose and the collar button of his shirt was undone.

“If we’re doing this, we need to have ground rules. Rule one: you have to trust me,” Draco said sternly. Harry was just surprised that Draco was actually giving into this idea. Albeit stupid, it was nice to talk to him after so long.

“Done. Rule two: we don’t talk about Voldemort.”

“Bit harder, but okay. Rule three: when the worst comes, I’m on your side.”

“That’s… more of a rule for yourself, Draco. Rule four: you have to understand that sometimes I don’t want to talk about my dreams.”

“Okay. I’m sorry for pushing you. Rule five: don’t ask me about my family or any Death Eater stuff.”

Harry nodded. “Rule six: you need to stop putting gel in your hair.”

“Fine- what?”

“I’m sorry, but it looks really bad! I like your hair like this,” Harry reached forward and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, who glared at him, but didn’t push him away, trying not to smile.

“Well, then, rule seven: you need to start actually combing your hair. I mean, what the hell is this, Potter?”

Harry smiled for the first time that week as Draco stroked his hair. “I missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry about Sirius, Harry. And I’m sorry about my father.”

“You can’t control your father, and Sirius… it’s not your fault.”

Draco tilted his head, eyes filled with concern. “It’s not yours either, okay? Like you said before, this is all bigger than us,” he brought Harry into his arms, who had tears streaming down his face again. 

“I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“That’s okay, love.”

“You’re just… okay with it? Why?” 

“Because, I know now you were trying to protect me in your own, stupid way,” Draco ran his hand up and down Harry’s arm. “And it’s kind of true what they say. Love is blind. I’m blind for you, Harry.”

“I guess I’m deaf for you, then?” Harry replied cheekily. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Draco shoved him, but he was stifling a laugh. “Right, so, the deal. What do you think?”

Harry put his hand out for Draco to shake, who pushed it away and kissed him instead, and the ache in Harry’s chest had faded slightly. Knowing that Draco was his again; that Draco would be on his side. And to see him smile against Harry’s lips when he pulled away ever so slightly.

Draco Malfoy’s smile; the calm after the storm. Harry wished Draco could be the calm after every storm to come. That he would be there to conquer the storm with him. That’s all Harry really wanted.

This summer was different than most. Harry had spent all his summer at The Burrow with Ron, and even Hermione joined after a few weeks. It was rough to not see Draco, but they always sent letters back and forth.

Harry had woken up later than Ron for once, and the first thing he did was reach for the letter sitting on his bedside table - someone must have taken the letter from Hedwig, who was now sitting perched at the window.

Dear Harry,

No, I don’t think visiting you at THE BURROW is a good idea. Are you just really stupid or have you lost your mind? Sneaking in would never work. However, I do want to see you on your birthday. I know it’s still weeks away, but do you have any plans? Maybe we could meet somewhere else? I could say I’m going to visit Pansy. 

And no, you can’t copy my homework. You should’ve done it at the beginning of summer! Merlin you are so annoying. Write back soon. Last time I waited five days! If you take that long again I’m not writing back.

With love hatred,

D.M

Harry grinned and picked up a piece of paper to write back, but jumped when Hermione burst open the door. “You scared the shit out of me-”

“Come down now!” she shrieked, pulling the covers off of him and grabbing his arm. Harry barely had time to answer as she dragged him downstairs excitedly, then shoved a newspaper in his face. Raising an eyebrow, he looked down at the article.

Wizarding Hearing Aids Created and for Sale

He looked up at her. “You’re kidding,” he mumbled. “No way.”

She was grinning from ear to ear. “Yes way!”

He looked around at Molly, Ginny, and Ron, who were all smiling at him. “It’s probably way too expensive,” he muttered, putting the newspaper down. “And we don’t even know if it would work. My hearing was lost because of dark magic.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so negative, Harry!” she smacked him. “Do you know what this is? This is hope !”

After breakfast, Harry, Ron and Hermione all went up to his room. Ron frowned. “The hearing aids could work,” he said.

Harry looked down at the blank piece of paper he was going to use to write back to Draco. “I don’t know, guys. I don’t even know what happened. One minute I could hear, then… I came back through the Portkey and it was gone.”

“It can’t hurt to try, right?” Hermione asked.

“It’s ten thousand Galleons. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have that kind of money,” Harry sighed, setting down the paper. When he looked back up at her, she had a look on her face. “I know what you’re going to say. I’m not going to ask him!”

“Come on, Harry, you could ask him for your birthday! It’d be like barely anything for him. He’s rich.”

“I’m not going to leech off of my boyfriend’s money,” he shook his head. “Thanks for your concerns, guys, but it’s okay.”

Meanwhile, in Malfoy Manor, Draco was in his room, frowning as he stared down at his notebook. He looked up to see his mother entering the room, smiling at him sympathetically. He absentmindedly rolled down his sleeves. It was the peak of summer, yet he still knew better than to wear short sleeves now.

“Draco, it’s scorching,” she stated, but her expression softened when she noticed the look on his face. “Anyway, did you read the Daily Prophet?”

“Why, is Harry on the front cover again?” he asked, taking it from her hands, searching for Harry’s face. Narcissa eyed him, but didn’t say anything.

“Go to the next page,” she said, and he did so, then looked up at her. 

“Wait… would it work?” he smiled. “This is great!”

“Yes, quite a pity how expensive it is, though,” she replied, eyebrows furrowed.

“Since when is money a problem for us?”

“I wasn’t talking about me,” she stood up.

He gulped. “...okay,” was all he could say. She couldn’t know about him and Harry, could she? He had tried his best to not speak of Harry at all, and he spent most of his time in his room when he wasn’t being forced to attend Death Eater meetings. 

“Lunch will be soon,” she said as she left.

As if on cue, Hedwig came in flying through the open window. Draco smiled again, taking the letter from the owl, who seemed to like him.

Dear Draco,

We’re planning on going to the Grimmauld Place for my birthday. There I’ll have my own room, so you can sneak in? I know you’re not a fan of the idea, but I think it’d be quite dangerous to be in public for me. And for you, in case you’re seen with me. Come on, please do this for me! It’s my birthday…

Anyway, stop calling me stupid. I have more brain cells then you do, at least.

Okay, on a serious note, I miss you a lot, so it would mean a lot if you could come see me. I keep thinking of you. I seriously wish we didn’t have to lose three whole months. And did we really have to get back together on the last day of school? Our timing is great, isn’t it?

Love hate you lots, 

H.P

Draco rolled his eyes, but found himself smiling, reaching for the quill as he wrote back. Harry’s letters were the highlight of his day. There wasn’t much going on in Malfoy Manor, but the whole atmosphere had changed as soon as he had got back. The place had always been cold, lonely and isolated, but it was somehow worse this time. 

He just hoped that Harry would be there for him.

***

Five minutes to midnight, Harry was seated at his desk, staring at the clock. Sighing, he adjusted his t-shirt and looked down at his homework that he had finally decided to do, but was nowhere near finishing.

He jumped when he felt two hands on his shoulder, turning around to see Draco in his room, wearing a sweater and black trousers, a bag slung over his shoulders.

“Draco!” he grinned. “You’re here! How did you get in?”

Draco looked over to the window. “ Alohomora. You’ve got bad security in this place.”

“No, you just broke in. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

“And,” he checked his watch, “exactly one minute before your birthday.”

“I don’t care about my birthday,” Harry replied, standing up and collapsing into Draco’s arms, kissing him passionately. “I missed you so much,” he whispered against the blond’s soft lips, who seemed surprised.

Draco simply lifted his arm to show his watch. “I missed you too. Happy birthday, darling,” he spoke softly while signing, but Harry simply pushed him back until they were on his bed. “It’s midnight and you’re so energized?”

“Shh,” Harry quietened Draco with another kiss. As he pulled away from him, they both stared at each other, breathing heavily.

“I got you something,” Draco said. “Well, I got both of us something.”

“Hmm?” Harry, who had been on top of Draco, moved to sit beside him. “You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he shoved a box wrapped in wrapping paper into Harry’s hand. “Open it.”

“Um…” He looked down, struggling to open the wrapping. “I don’t want to ruin the wrapping, it looks really nice-”

“Merlin,” Draco grabbed it back and opened it quickly and effortlessly without making a single tear, revealing a velvet box. Harry took it back and opened it to see a watch. “Look, I have the same one. Put it on."

Draco put it on for Harry, who was struggling. The only light source was the moonlight from the window and the lamp on the desk a bit further away from them. Harry turned his wrist, smiling. “Thank you, Draco.”

“That’s not all, watch,” he put out his wrist with his own watch and tapped it. “Look. We can communicate like this. The watch vibrates for each other as soon as we tap it. It can happen from any distance, it’s created magically. Obviously.”

Harry grinned. “That’s cool!” He tapped his watch two times.

“I was reading the instructions and we can make meanings with each tap. See, one tap can mean hey, and two taps can mean ‘I miss you’. I know it’s a bit ridiculous, but… given that we can’t spend a lot of time together… I thought it would be good for us.”

“I love it. Thank you,” he leaned forward and kissed Draco on the cheek gently.

“I got you something else,” Draco admitted.

Harry shook his head. “No, you’ve gotten me enough,” he said as Draco tried handing him another box. “I’m serious, Draco, the watch was more than-” he looked down as Draco opened the box, a pair of hearing aids inside.

His eyes welled up with tears. “No, I can’t accept this.”

“Harry, please,” he pleaded. “I want you to have it. It works for my mother.”

“We don’t know if it’d work for me, and I don’t want to try. I don’t want to for sure that I can never hear again. That I can’t hear your voice.”

“What if it works, Harry?” Draco frowned. “What if you’ll actually be able to hear me?”

“You don’t get it. I spent so long feeling so horrible that I’ll never actually be able to hear your voice. I don’t need to know if it works or not,” he chewed on his lip, hands trembling as Draco gently handed it to him. “Draco, we don’t know if it’ll work. It was dark magic, whatever happened.”

“Try for me,” he signed. “Please?”

With a deep breath, Harry nodded slowly. “...fine. But if it doesn’t work…” he placed each of them in either of his ears, adjusting them properly. Looking up into Draco’s eyes, he squinted, too scared to speak.

“Hi,” Draco spoke finally.

His voice was deeper than Harry had last heard it. Well, the last time was probably in fourth year and Draco was insulting him like always. He had never heard Draco’s voice sound so soft. 

Draco’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was holding Harry’s hands tightly. This was crazy. He could hear Draco’s gentle breathing. The wind rustling the leaves just outside the window. The gentle shift of the covers as he sat up properly.

“No way,” Harry whispered. “No fucking way.”

“You can hear me?” Draco asked, eyes wide.

“Yes!” he jumped up excitedly. “I can hear myself. I can hear you!”

“How does my voice sound?” 

Harry took his hands. “Like I want to hear you speak forever,” he smiled. “Talk. I haven’t heard your voice in so long. Last time I heard it you were probably telling me how I was going to lose the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Merlin, I’m stupid,” Draco squeezed Harry’s hands. “But here, listen to me clearly.” He paused, looking up at him, eyes glinting under the moonlight. He let go of Harry’s hands and as he spoke, he signed, “I love you."

He gulped, then looked down, chuckling slightly. “Just because I said it that day doesn’t mean you have to say it too.”

“No. I wanted you to hear it. And I realized I hadn’t learnt the sign for it either, so I didn’t want you to just see it on my lips,” Draco explained.

Harry was smiling awkwardly, “and here I thought I was stupid for saying it to you,” he mumbled, adjusting the hearing aids on his ears. “I love you too, Draco.”

“Well, that’s quite a relief,” Draco sighed, but smiled, leaning forward and kissing him softly. He felt his heart flutter and his chest easen up. He had been too nervous about today. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if the hearing aids hadn’t worked for Harry.

“So do I need to recharge these every now and then?”

“Yeah, just put them back in the case and they’ll recharge.”

Harry nodded, eyes wandering to the record player in the room. “This used to be Sirius’ room,” he spoke finally, standing up and picking out a disc record and carefully placing it on the player.

Draco watched him, standing up as the soft, slow music started to play. “Dance with me?” he put his hand out. Harry took it, and they swayed to the music. Draco’s hands were on Harry’s waist. “I like this song. Sirius had good taste.”

“He was such a good person,” Harry moved closer and leaned on Draco’s shoulder. “I miss him.”

“It must be difficult,” Draco whispered. 

“You won’t leave me, right?”

“Harry, they’d have to pry my dead hands off of you,” he answered, hoping that’s what Harry wanted to hear. To his surprise, the Gryffindor looked up at him and grinned. “Now, onto more positive things, alright?"

“Like?”

As the song changed to a more upbeat tune, Draco quickly spun Harry around. “Like dancing.”

They let the whole disc play, dancing erratically and basically jumping about. There was something that made it so easy to be around Draco, something Harry had not even recently felt with Hermione or Ron. They were his best friends, but it was different with Draco. He was putting conscious effort for Harry, despite the asshole he had been.

Sometimes Harry found himself questioning if he really deserved a second chance with Draco. But, it was different when you loved someone. You always wanted to see the best in them. And Draco loved Harry.

After the last song finished, they both fell back onto the bed, breathing heavily. “Honestly, this is not what I planned to be doing at two in the morning, Harry,” Draco huffed, tugging at the collar of his sweater.

“Take it off, Draco, it’s boiling,” Harry replied, standing up and leaning against the open windowsill, breathing in the fresh, cold air. “Come here.”

Draco pulled at the sleeves of his sweater. “I’m fine,” he said as he sidled beside Harry, looking out at the view of the city.

“It’s the middle of summer. You can’t be wearing that. You’d die from heat exhaustion,” Harry looked at him, tilting his head. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, he did as asked, and Harry realized it was the first time he had seen Draco wear short sleeves. His eyes moved down to Draco’s forearm, where a Dark Mark was clearly imprinted, who quickly put his arm behind his back.

“I saw it,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to hide it from me.”

“Don’t be so stupid, Harry. I can’t be displaying it,” he quickly reached for his sweater again, but Harry grabbed his arms. “Stop it. I only took my sweater off for a moment.”

“Draco,” he whispered. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Especially not on your birthday,” Draco sat down on the bed again, and Harry followed, gazing at him intently. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel sorry for me. I’m aware how pathetic I might seem compared to you. I mean, you’re in the middle of all of this, and I’m just… a minion, I suppose. Someone to do the dirty work for him.”

“I don’t think that at all,” Harry took his hand carefully. Draco pulled away, but after a moment, he reached back. “We have our own battles to fight. I just want you to know that transparency would probably do us good.”

Draco gulped, avoiding his eyes. “I just… it feels quite horrible to be on the side that wants your boyfriend killed. And I can’t do much to stop it. I feel useless. Please, Harry, whatever happens, I didn’t have much of a choice, okay?”

“I know, don’t worry,” he squeezed the other’s hand gently. “I remember our deal. And our rules. I trust you. But I see… you quite disrespectfully forgot rule six.”

“What?” Draco’s eyes widened, then he scoffed. “I didn’t take you as such a superficial person, Harry.”

“Shut up, your gelled hair reminds me of your father,” Harry rolled his eyes. “What if I accidentally called you Lucius?”

“I would hex you.”

“What if I was like…” Harry took in a deep breath, then whined out, “ Oh, Lucius- ”

“Merlin, I’m actually going to Crucio you!”

Harry burst out laughing, but quickly jumped up and moved away when Draco got out his wand. After being chased around for a few moments, they both turned as the door burst open. 

“Come on, Harry, it’s two in the-” Hermione stood in the doorway. Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were crumpled. She paused. “What in the world are you doing here? Harry, are you nuts?”

Draco quickly reached for his sweater and put it on as Harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, were we being too loud? I was sure we put a Muffliato charm…”

“I could hear you guys running about,” she muttered, then shut the door behind her. “But that’s besides the point. Malfoy, you shouldn’t be here. Literally everyone in this residence right now hates you. They’ll accuse you of spying for your father!”

“Oh, come on, Granger, I’m smarter than to be caught by anyone,” Draco folded his arms.

“I caught you.”

“Well, that was because Harry was behaving like an absolute idiot, which resulted in me-”

“Hey, I was just making a joke!” Harry defended, putting his hands in the air.

“A joke? More like trying to make me throw up.”

Hermione stared at the two of them. “I… genuinely can’t tell if you two are dating or are still enemies,” she said, then paused. “Harry, what’s that in your ears? Oh my God, are those the Wizarding hearing aids?”

“Oh, yes! Draco got them for me,” he smiled as she walked towards him. He took one of them out and handed them to her. “It works great. I just wish I didn’t have to endure that whole year of suffering.”

Handing the hearing aid back to Harry, she eyed Draco suspiciously. “...well, I suppose dating Malfoy has its perks.”

“Granger, I hope you realize there are benefits to dating me other than money.”

She gave him a once-over. “I beg to differ.”

“Listen, you-”

Harry quickly put an arm forward to stop Draco from walking any closer to Hermione. “Oookay, while this conversation has been fun, I only have a few hours left with Draco, so let’s just leave it, alright?” Harry interjected.

Fuming, Hermione nodded. “Fine. But if anyone asks you why you were being so loud in your bedroom, I’m not covering for you. Hopefully I won’t see you until Hogwarts, Malfoy.”

“I’m hoping not even then,” Draco retorted.

“You two are like children,” Harry sighed as Hermione left. “Is that how you and I were too?”

“Well, there was less malice, but we were worse,” he replied, but inhaled sharply. “I was really hoping things would be better with me and your friends, though. I mean, it’s a poor choice of friends, but-”

“Draco,” Harry said in a warning tone. 

“But, they’re still your friends and I’d like to be in a room with them without either of us having to be at each other’s throats. I mean, hey, I didn’t say anything until she started being all vicious.”

“Draco, it’s been years. It’d take time for that to be reversed. Besides, she was probably extra cranky because we woke her up.”

He shrugged. “I suppose.”

Harry sat down on the bed again, glad to have calmed him down. He took a mental note to talk to Hermione about it as well, but the exhaustion was starting to kick in, and he still had a full day of celebration yet to go. Everyone had been hyping up Harry’s birthday, especially because they knew he had been down because of Sirius.

“You tired?” Draco said quietly as Harry lied down. “You can sleep if you want. It’s pretty late.”

“I only had three hours with you, though,” Harry murmured as Draco laid beside him, stroking his hair gently.

“We still have a whole year to hang out, alright? Don’t worry.”

“We should’ve planned a better time.”

“Yeah, we should’ve. I’m just glad I got to see you. This summer has been so… awful,” Draco was saying. Somewhere in between a half-asleep conversation with Draco, Harry fell asleep. 

And when Harry woke up, Draco was gone, a letter left at Harry’s desk.

In a moment of anger, 

You are my anchor

My love, when I say I love you, 

I mean every word

Still, many things left unheard

Through it all, 

Even when I feel so small,

You make me want to be better

d.m.

P.S. you seemed so peaceful so I didn’t want to disturb you. Happy birthday darling.

The train ride this year was refreshing. Harry found himself taking in every sound that he could - the muffled chatter from other carriages, the train. Harry had even missed the sound of Ron’s loud chewing.

Though Harry was excited to be able to listen in lessons again, he wondered what that meant for the lessons between him and Draco. Well, Harry was still a little behind than everyone else, and Draco still wanted to learn more sign language, but was pretty much at Harry’s level now, which was surprising.

“Harry,” Hermione said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Did you hear me?”

He looked over at her, then shook his head. “Sorry, what?”

“I was just asking how you and Malfoy are going to be dating this year,” she asked, running a hand through her hair. “Are you going to be using the Room of Requirement?”

“Yes, probably. Draco said he wants to continue helping me with my skills, so… I think that’s good.”

Harry had missed so much. He had missed the raspiness in Dumbledore’s voice, Hermione’s laugh, Ron’s snorts, and most of all-

“Potter,” Draco said as he passed him just outside the Great Hall. “Ready for another year of being behind everyone else?”

It took a lot for Harry to not smile. “No, but I’m ready for another of you being an absolute pain in the arse,” he retorted. They exchanged a look and Hermione rolled her eyes, grabbing his arm.

“Trying to pretend to be enemies isn’t going to work if you keep looking at each other like that,” she whispered in his ear, but Harry shrugged. He was too good in a mood to care, and the dark atmosphere that had bestowed upon Hogwarts had almost slipped past him. Almost.

***

Draco sat down across from Harry in the room of requirement, a small smile on his face. “Are your hearing aids working fine?” he asked as he got out a few textbooks, adjusting his white shirt. It was a bright Saturday morning, and the light from outside was seeping through the windows.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it’s all good. We can start.”

“Great. Take them off.”

“What?”

“Your hearing aids. Take them off.”

Harry blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“Do you trust me?” 

“Yeah,” he replied, then carefully took off his hearing aids. Draco signed ‘stand up’, and he did so. Looking down, he moved to adjust his shirt. When he looked back up, he swiftly moved to the left, dodging a spell from Draco just by an inch. “What the fuck?”

Draco took a step forward. “If you want to be competent in a duel, Harry, you need to learn to fight without hearing aids. Chances are, once anyone sees them, they’re going to knock it right off your ears.”

Harry gulped. “Okay, I suppose you’re right. Can we at least start with one-” he paused to dodge another spell, “hearing aid on? I’ve… gotten used to having them on all the time and- it’s- hard- oh, fuck off!” He whipped his wand out and threw an Expelliarmus spell at Draco, who countered it with Stupefy, sending Harry flying against the bookshelf behind him. 

Groaning in pain, he leaned his head against the bookshelf. Draco walked up to him, kneeling and stroking his forehead. “You’re in worse shape than I thought, darling.”

He pushed Draco backwards. “You’re so infuriating,” he rolled his eyes, standing up. “Alright, then, come at me. You have the clear upper hand here.”

“That’s exactly it,” Draco pointed his wand at Harry’s neck. “I’m teaching you to have the upper hand even without being able to hear. So, here’s what we’re going to do. You need to get ten times better at lip reading, and memorize hand movements. Alright?”

By the end of the day, Harry flopped down on the couch before putting on his hearing aids again. “My arm hurts. Can we stop now?”

Draco sat down beside him kissing his cheek. “You did good today. By the way, I… probably should tell you, I won’t be able to do Sundays from now on. I have some… homework. You know.”

Harry stared at him for a few seconds. “What subject? Do you need help?”

“Harry, I mean like… other work. Extra credit.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah, that’s fine,” Harry stroked Draco’s hair. 

“Sorry for pushing your limit today, I just think it’s better than to wait around. Since I’m at school now, I won’t be informed of anything.”

Harry turned to look at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Well, it’s not like you should be telling me anyway. Don’t you have some sort of pact, I don’t know, where you can’t say it out loud?”

“I can always write it down if that’s the case. I’m not just going to let you stay in the dark if there’s a planned attack.”

“For your safety, don’t, okay?” Harry took his hand and squeezed it. “Promise me. I’d rather be ambushed than lose you. Besides, this is what our training is for, right? You’re helping me in any way you can. Don’t overdo it before you end up in danger.”

Draco leaned forward and kissed him on the lips softly. “You’re a reckless idiot, you know that?”

Harry kissed his nose quickly. “And I’m all yours.”

***

September flew by quickly and things were eerily calm. Draco entered the Slytherin Common Room and sat down beside Pansy, who turned to him with a smile. It was a late Friday evening and he had just finished up a WSL lesson with Harry. Though, if they were being honest, it wasn’t much learning and more… making out on the couch, amongst other things.

Draco didn’t even look at her, picking up the Daily Prophet. “Don’t look at me like that, Pansy, it’s terrifying.”

She elbowed him in the ribs. “What have you been doing that makes you too busy to hang out with your best friend?” she emphasized, snatching the newspaper out of his hands, then chuckled. “There’s your boyfriend, front and center.”

“Yeah yeah,” he leaned forward and stared at the picture of Harry seeming somewhat bewildered by the flash of the photo, a nervous smile on his face. “He looks nice. Despite the nasty title.”

“Were you just with him?” she questioned, her eyes moved down to his neck, where a greenish-purple ‘bruise’ was just above his collar. “You need some concealer or something, honey?”

He put a hand to his neck. “Uh… yeah, I was with him. And no, I don’t need concealer. And don’t refer to me as ‘honey’.” 

She rolled her eyes. “So only Harry can call you honey?”

His face turned pink. “For the last time, you need to stop looking at our letters! That’s private stuff!”

“Relax, I just saw it the other day over your shoulder. Merlin, it makes me curious what you say in those letters,” She put a hand to her forehead dramatically. “Oh, fuck me daddy!” she cried out. “Fuck me so hard in the broom closet, which is quite ironic-”

“You disgust me, Pansy,” he said monotonously, having already picked up his things and was walking to his dorm. The few Slytherins that were left in the common room turned to her, bewildered and confused. After picking up a few things from his dorm, he left about twenty minutes later, back to the Room of Requirement, though this time, he was asking for a different room.

Looking around, he quickly opened the door and entered, surprised to see the room he and Harry had asked for, which had turned into their own. There were scattered coffee cups on the table, some robes on the couch, a few books on the table, and Harry sat at the table, one knee propped up as he wrote furiously on a piece of paper.

“Harry?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was so sure he had asked for the other room. Was it because Harry was here?

The brunet didn’t look up, so Draco walked towards him and stood beside him. Harry looked up finally, looking surprised. He fumbled around for his case before he put his hearing aids back on. “Sorry, I didn’t want to be distracted by any noise, so… what are you doing here?”

The corners of Draco’s mouth twitched. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” he looked down at the piece of paper, quickly picking it up. Draco snatched it from him quickly. “You… I mean… I was just trying to write a poem for you. Since you always write me ones.”

Draco looked at him, and for a moment, Harry was afraid he was going to get mad, but instead he leaned down and kissed him quickly. “You’re so sentimental,” he said, but he was smiling. “Can I read it?”

“Oh, it’s a bit stupid,” he snatched it back from Draco. “Once it’s done. And if you tell me what you’re doing here?”

He moved away from Harry, sitting down across from him. “I was, uh… supposed to do that extra credit work. But the Room of Requirement ended up bringing me here for some reason.”

Harry frowned. “You’re… using the Room of Requirement for your… homework?”

“Yes. Is that an issue?”

He shook his head. “No, I suppose not. It’s not mine anyway.”

The two stared at each other for a few moments. Draco looked down at his hands, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Um… I know I said you shouldn’t tell me, but-”

“Harry, rule five, remember? We made a deal. I can’t talk about it.”

“But-”

“Don’t, Harry, because then I’ll tell you everything. And if he finds out, you know how ugly things would get. I can’t let anyone down with this. Especially my father.”

Harry looked at Draco, reaching forward and squeezing his hands. “Of course. I’m sorry. I won’t ask. But, tell me, is it difficult? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me if you’re going through a hard time.”

He hung his head low in shame. “It’s difficult. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. This summer was the worst, if I’m being honest. Even though… I basically went with everything my father told me to, he was still so angry with me. I feel as if he wishes I was a better son. But his version of a better son is someone who would abide by everything he has to say, and probably worship the Dark Lord as much as he does.”

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand again gently. “I’m sorry. It sounds like a lot.”

Draco put a hand to his head. “I’m sorry. I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t have said all that. Just forget it."

Standing up, Harry walked over and - uncomfortably - sat on Draco’s lap until he settled, resting his head on Draco’s shoulder, who wrapped his arms around him. “Do you need to do your homework now? Or we could…”

They both turned to the now even further extended room, a large bed in the corner. “We could go to bed, you mean?” Draco asked, looking down at him. “Hm… maybe. If I get the right side.”

“Take whatever side you want,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Spoilt Slytherin asshole,” he murmured under his breath.

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

Harry stretched his back and took off his hearing aids then got into bed with Draco, who slung an arm over him. And, honestly, while he knew this year wasn’t going to go well at all, it was still nice to forget about that when he was in Draco’s arms, feeling his soft breath on his shoulder as he fell asleep. He could pretend that they weren’t on opposites of a war, and better - he could pretend, in the proximity of this room, that he wasn’t Harry Potter, with the weight of the Wizarding World on his shoulders, but just Harry Potter, a stupid boy in love with another boy.

“Remind me why I’m here again?” Pansy folded her arms. She had rolled the sleeves of her white shirt up as she clutched her wand, looking back and forth between Draco and Harry. “I gave up a date for this.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You only need to be here for ten minutes. Besides, I promised to buy you something in return, so stop complaining,” he turned to Harry, who nervously cracked his knuckles. “It’ll be fine, darling, I promise you. We’re not going to hurt you.”

Pansy shrugged. “...too badly,” she added.

Harry took in a few breaths, looking up at Draco with a sense of uncertainty in his eyes. “Draco.”

The nervousness was starting to affect Draco, so he cupped Harry’s face gently. “I’m really sorry. But I think you need to be prepared for this, okay?” he said in a quiet voice, gently pressing his lips against Harry’s cheek, who nodded, then moved to the table to take off his hearing aids.

Pansy looked at Draco in amusement, then made a ‘wh-tshh’ sound while she mimed a whip. A puzzled expression on his face, he held his gaze on her for a few moments while she simply stared back, seeming quite satisfied with herself.

“Honestly, Parkinson, the difference between you and your family really appalls me. What in Merlin’s beard is that supposed to mean?” He folded his arms.

“You know,” She made the sound again, looking at him as if he was the weird one for not understanding what she meant. “You’re so whipped for him.”

“I’m not whipped. In fact, I’m far from whipped.”

Harry turned around. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Draco quickly turned to face Harry. “Are you sure? Do you need some time before we start?”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Come on, Malfoy, get your head in the game. In a real battle, he wouldn’t have time to prepare.” 

She knew how much Draco honestly hated being referred to as Malfoy, but she would call him this on certain occasions when she felt he was being too soft, or when he needed reminding that he was a Malfoy. This had been mainly during times when they were with family. 

The room expanded and Harry got his wand ready. It had been two months since he had been practicing duelling without his hearing aids, and he felt more comfortable already, but that was because he knew Draco was deliberately trying to take it easy on him. Well, that was the price for being taught by your boyfriend.

Lucky for Harry, he now was able to process the wand movement, quickly understand what spell was being used, then able to counter it before the spell could hit him, or he would duck out of the way and then think of a spell. Draco thought it would be more efficient to be able to counter the spell as quickly as possible. 

It was going to be different with two people, as well as Pansy, who most likely wouldn’t be taking it easy on Harry.

He quickly cast Expelliarmus before Pansy could use Confringo. With both Draco and Pansy taking turns, it was a bit more difficult, but he was able to work with it. After about five more minutes, the three of them came to a stop, tired out. 

“Okay, Harry, that was a lot harder than I thought it’d be. No offense,” Pansy sat down. Harry laughed as he put his hearing aids back on, then turned to Draco, who was searching face for something frantically.

“Is something wrong, Draco?”

“No, no. I was just a bit worried, in case I hurt you in some way. But you’re okay, right? Not too tiring?”

“It’s all good,” he replied. “Really.”

They gazed at each other, smiling.

Pansy cleared her throat. “Okay, I’m gonna leave before you both start fucking right here,” she announced, walking over and slapping Harry on the back. “You’re not bad, Potter. Not at all. I think you genuinely have a chance against that wanker.”

Then she left, and it was just Harry and Draco, who moved to the couch, sitting back. They were exhausted.

“I heard you’ve been getting special lessons from Dumbledore,” Draco raised an eyebrow. “Teacher’s pet, are we?”

“Oh please. Yesterday, you bumped into me and Snape still took points away from Gryffindor,” he folded his arms.

“Excuse you, I think you’re forgetting how Dumbledore literally took away Slytherin’s victory in first year.”

“Hey, I was brave! And I did all of that when I was eleven!” he shook his head, then sighed. After a moment, he turned to Draco. “Dumbledore taught me about Horcruxes. Have you got any idea what they really are?”

Draco’s eyebrows creased as he tried to recall or remember the term, then shrugged. “No idea. Maybe I’ve heard my family use the term a few times. Why? Aren’t you working with Dumbledore to try and stop You-Know-Who?” he asked.

It was a rule of theirs to not speak of Voldemort, but it wasn’t so easy. Not when Draco was working for him, and when Harry was the center of it all. Harry put a hand to his temple. “I don’t know. It’s all really frustrating. You know, Katie Bell was cursed…”

Draco grew pale, a faraway look in his eyes. “...right…” 

Harry kept his eyes on him, then shook his head. “Anyway. I guess we should talk about something else. We’re on thin ice with rule two,” he smiled. Draco tried to give one back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Harry just leaned forward and kissed him on the lips carefully. “I love you,” he mumbled against Draco’s lips.

“Do you?” Draco whispered, pulling Harry onto his lap, a frown on his face. “Even if I may not be the best person?

“I don’t love you despite your imperfection, Draco, I love you because of it,” Harry answered softly. “Anyone who sees it as something that should be held against you is wrong. I’m not perfect either. Far from it.”

“You’re Harry Potter,” he said, looking away. 

Harry grabbed him by the chin and carefully turned Draco’s head to look at him in the eyes. “You’re right. I’m Harry Potter. And I love you, because you’ve spent the last four months trying to make sure I don’t die in battle,” he stroked Draco’s cheek. “Because you respect my boundaries. And especially because when you kiss me, everything else seems a little less gloomy.”

They had gone from enemies, to sort-of-friends, to lovers, to strangers, to lovers again. And they had finally, finally had gotten their communication right. Harry just hoped it was enough to keep them together when they were on the cusp of war.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco blurted in response. Harry moved so he was leaning on Draco.

They stayed that way for the rest of the night.

As winter break began and ended, time that had been slipping away finally started to slow down, but not for the right reasons. Draco was busy with ‘work’ he had been assigned for ‘extra credit’, so Harry spent most of his time in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was nearing the end of January. He thought about this time last year - they were still trying to figure out their feelings.

Most nights spent together were now silent. Harry didn’t have to explain that he was having a bad day. He would usually take his hearing aids out when he was feeling down, keeping to himself or leaning on Draco, who didn’t mind. What mattered to both of them was the time being spent together

Draco didn’t have to explain that he was feeling frustrated. He’d spend most of his time reading or catching up on homework. With everything going on, he found himself barely catching up with schoolwork. It wasn’t only that, he barely even had the motivation to do anything about it.

On a night in the middle of February, Draco was reading a book and Harry was trying to write an essay that was due the next day. 

“Hey, Harry,” he looked up. “When do you reckon our anniversary is?”

Harry set down his quill, looking at him. “Oh. Well, I hadn’t thought that through whatsoever,” he rolled up his sleeves. “Maybe… the day we got back together? I guess?”

“So June 30th?” Draco ran a hand through his hair, raising an eyebrow, shutting his book altogether. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, turning back to his essay. 

“How are you, darling?” he asked. “It’s our first time hanging out in two weeks.” he then added quietly, “not as if we’ve spoken about it before that too.”

Glancing up, Harry frowned. “I’m okay. I think. I don’t know. I suppose my feelings are really not taken into consideration anymore,” he shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Draco asked, seeming taken aback. Standing up, he took Harry’s hands and guided them to the couch. As they sat down, he stared down. “I’m sorry for not checking up on-”

“Oh, God, I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean… it doesn’t really matter what I feel, does it?  I’ve just been a little on edge all year. Waiting for Voldermort’s next step, whatever,” he folded his arms. “Sometimes it makes me regret the deal we made.”

“We made the deal for the best,” Draco stroked Harry’s cheek with his index finger absentmindedly. “So that we don’t die. Or rip each other’s throats apart.”

“I would never rip your throat. I’d pull your hair off,” he responded. “I know how much you love your hair, so, you know. I’d do something you’d have to live with for the rest of your life. Baldness.”

“Bit dark, baby,” Draco kissed him on the cheek. “I’d break your glasses.”

“I’d get rid of all of your hair gel,” Harry planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“I’d break your broomstick.”

“I’d… um…”

“I win,” Draco smiled, but it faded after a few moments. “Are you okay, though, Harry? Do you think these lessons with Dumbledore are really necessary? It seems like it’s only stressing you out.”

“No, Draco, I need to make sure I know everything if I’m going to have to fight Voldemort,” he sighed, sitting up in his seat. “I just wish this… wouldn’t have to be me sometimes. And I just wish you wouldn’t have to be on their side.”

He took Harry’s hand carefully, pursing his lips for a moment. “Always on your side. Always, love. This is just something I have to do to survive,” he said quietly, as if he was afraid anyone else would hear him. “And I hate every moment of it.”

Harry looked over at him, instantly regretting what he had said. “I’m really sorry, Draco. I’m being inconsiderate. This must be really difficult for you, too,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I understand the pressure you must be feeling right now. But, darling, you know the rule is there for a reason.”

“I know, I know,” Harry nodded. “It’s for the best.”

“For the best,” he echoed, relaxing as Harry rested his head on his shoulder. Draco pulled him closer. He shut his eyes for a moment, feeling his Dark Mark sting, trying to erase it with the feeling of having Harry in his arms.

***

Draco was perched on the side of the armchair, his hair disheveled, a few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. Checking his watch, he raised an eyebrow, concerned. Harry was very, very late. He had tried reading a book and doing his homework, but nothing was keeping him busy.

Growing impatient and worry spiraling his thoughts, he stood up and walked towards the shelves, tracing his index finger down the spines of a few of the books.

He quickly turned when the door opened, revealing Harry, who slammed the door shut. However he stayed there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry I’m late,” he said finally.

“It’s fine,” Draco said, folding his arms and holding his chin up. Seeing Harry’s face now made him less worried and more irritated. “It’s only been an hour. Guess it would’ve killed you to owl me or something.”

“You will not believe the night I’ve had, Draco, so please,” he flopped down on the couch, shutting his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you had a good lesson planned for us today.”

As he kept his eyes on Harry, the aggression melted away and the concern he was feeling before overwhelmed him like a nauseous sensation in his throat. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, sitting down beside him.

“It’s Ron’s birthday,” he said. “I was planning on celebrating with our dorm mates, then sneaking away, but… this girl put a love potion in these chocolates meant for me, and Ron ate them. It was a huge mess. We ended up in Slughorn’s office, and he gave Ron an antidote. Then-”

“Hold on, some girl was trying to get you to fall in love with her? This is why you don’t accept chocolates from just anyone. And I suppose you were going to eat them yourself?”

“Draco, my love, you’re greatly missing the point right now. Let me finish, please?”

“Right. Of course.”

“As I was saying…” he gulped, looking up at Draco. “Slughorn gave us this mead to drink. I wasn’t really into it but I’m supposed to gain his trust - um forget I said that. Anyway, he was still toasting so neither of us took a sip, but Ron did, and guess what, it was poisoned. I had to save his life.”

“Hold on, are you telling me Slughorn tried to poison the two of you?” Draco blinked in confusion. 

“Oh, Christ, no. He was horrified, to say the least,” Harry shook his head. “No, no… I think he mentioned he was supposed to give that drink to Dumbledore.”

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, cursing under his breath. Guilt and resentment flooded his chest. Feeling Harry’s eyes on him, he tried to seem calm, but Harry had noticed. They both stared at each other in silence for a moment too long. Harry bit his lip, unsure of what to think or say.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “So, we could… reschedule this lesson for tomorrow?”

“I thought you wanted to go back to the cliff tomorrow and do some broom riding,” Draco replied, frowning. He wasn’t sure of what to think of the sudden subject change. 

“It’s fine. I guess learning how to defend myself is more important,” Harry stood up. “Hey, listen, I’m really tired, and I should probably go check up on Ron. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Draco cast him a long look. “Harry. Why aren’t you-”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “If I ask, you’ll have to explain, and…” he looked down at Draco’s Dark Mark that was half covered by his sleeve. “And I don’t want to go down that road. Not tonight.”

He stood up slowly, trying to take Harry’s hand. “Maybe our rule isn’t a good idea.”

Harry took out his hearing aids quickly. “Goodnight, Draco,” he mumbled, kissing Draco’s cheek gently, pulling his hand away. He picked up his stuff and quickly left, leaving Draco alone in the room with the sudden tension, the deafening silence, and his own thoughts.

It was as if what Harry had been dreading was finally approaching. Draco had been set an awful task, and this was going to drive a wedge between them. It was certain. Despite their stupid rules and deals and how much they wanted to reassure each other that they were okay, this wasn’t something up for debate. 

It would, undoubtedly, end their relationship, sooner or later.

On that dull, Monday morning, Harry instinctively reached to put on his hearing aids, then quickly kept them back on his bedside table. He didn’t want to hear anything today. He wanted some peace. 

Though it did mean he’d be stuck with his own thoughts, it was a risk he was willing to take for today.

“Harry-” Hermione started, then tapped his shoulder when she noticed his bare ears. “No hearing aids?” she asked while signing. “Is this some sort of exercise Malfoy’s making you practice?”

He shook his head. “No. Just, uh, need a break?”

“From… hearing? What about classes?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You can’t possibly-” she was saying, then groaned when Harry just turned away from her, digging into his breakfast. She was reminded the entirety of last year, when he would just look away any time he felt she was being too irritating. They ate in silence until he looked back up at her. 

“How’s Ron?”

“Oh, he’s well. He’s taking today off but he said he’ll be here for dinner.”

“And him and Lavender?”

“Oh, right, you can’t hear her crying,” she rolled her eyes, then subtly nudged her chin in Lavender’s direction. She was several seats down at the Gryffindor table, crying while being comforted by her friends, who gave Hermione a dirty look when they caught them staring. “They’re done.”

“Perhaps for the best,” he replied. He looked up at the Slytherin table, searching a little then eventually finding Draco, who was messing around with Pansy. After a moment, he looked up, and as their eyes met, Harry felt the need to quickly look away.

He had to think about everything.

Monday through Friday, Harry only used his hearing aids when necessary and kept his distance from Draco. Well, it wasn’t as if they were too close in public anyway, but he avoided their usual banter that would take place here and there. But he could only escape it for so long, because it was Friday evening and he had to go to the Room of Requirement for his usual lesson time. He contemplated on even going, but then realized he was being extremely unfair towards Draco.

As he entered, he mumbled a quick ‘hey’, making his way to the table and dropping his bag on the ground. Taking a seat, he flinched when Draco slammed his hands on the table, forcing Harry to look at him.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No.”

“Yes?”

“I mean, I kind of have to avoid you to keep up the facade-”

“Oh, stop with the deceit,” Draco shook his head, folding his arms. “You can barely look at me.”

“To call it deceit is a tad bit dramatic-”

“Harry. I simply do not have the time nor am I willing to put in the effort to argue with you over anything of this sort. We have rules so we don’t argue. So, please, darling, let’s talk about what happened last week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Draco’s eyes burned with fury - no, frustration. “Don’t do that. Don’t. It’s not going to help you or me. So let me tell you what needs to be said.”

Harry stood up. “Do you think, my darling boyfriend, if you say whatever you’re going to, I can keep my mouth shut? I have an obligation to protect the people around me. So as long as you don’t say it, we’re both safe. Otherwise… it’ll be on me. On my conscience.”

“Your solution is to ignore it?”

“What else can I do?” he raised his voice. 

There was a pause. Until Draco’s cold expression crumbled. “I hate this, Harry. I hate that this is happening,” Draco mumbled, his hands starting to tremble. “We… shouldn’t do this anymore, should we? It’s a bad idea… it’s-”

“No, no. no. Draco, stop. You’re spiralling.”

“No, Harry, you don’t understand. I can’t stand to hurt you like this. I can’t stand to see them hurt you.”

Harry took a few steps towards him, studying Draco’s face. There was worry etched upon his face, and guilt flooding his eyes. There was a sudden switch in Harry’s thoughts. This didn’t have to end their relationship. Nor did he have to let it drive a wedge between them. Yes, this wasn’t easy. But he didn’t want to give up Draco just because of Voldemort.

“You’re not really on their side, are you?” Harry asked carefully. 

“No, of course not. How could you even ask me that?”

“Then that’s all that matters to me. How could you possibly stop all of them? You can’t blame yourself. This was my fate, you can’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control. Whatever you have to do… do it.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t tell you about anything that’s going to happen. I can’t stand to-”

“You don’t need to worry about that. It’s not your place.”

“You’re my boyfriend, Harry, of course it’s my place,” he stated with a soft cry, trying to hide his face.

“No. Right now, you need to worry about your own safety. So you’re Voldemort’s follower first, and my boyfriend second,” Harry said somewhat sternly. “I can’t have him hurt you if he finds out. So don’t do anything to slip up now, not after we’ve been able to hide it so well.”

“How can you say that? When I have this?” Draco pulled up his sleeve aggressively, looking away. He couldn’t even look at his mark. But to his surprise, Harry took his arm and gently brushed his lips against his mark. “Harry, stop. You’re being an idiot.”

“Your idiot, always,” he whispered. “Listen to me. For now - you’re his follower first, my boyfriend second. Remember that.”

“Harry-”

“Draco, please. For your own safety. For the sake of us.”

He pulled his sleeve down. “Fuck. Okay. I won’t forget.”

And with that, Harry kissed him with everything he had in him.

***

A few months passed. Draco had less and less time and seemed more stressed every time Harry saw him, but there was nothing he could do. All he did was kiss Draco, hold him close. Sometimes he would whisper that everything was going to be okay. He noticed Draco needed to hear that a lot.

Harry needed less training and it wasn’t as if Draco had much time, so their Saturdays were gone too. Now it was just the Friday evenings, that sometimes one of them wouldn’t even show up to, because they got too busy with other things. Harry with Dumbledore, and Draco with - well. It didn’t need to be said.

This Friday evening, they both had made it, but had barely uttered a word to each other the entire night. Their session was coming to an end. Harry studied Draco, who was beside him - he barely put gel in his hair anymore, despite constantly telling him that he would put gel in his hair because he liked it that way. He had dark circles under his eyes and his body seemed fragile.

“Hey, so, it’s our anniversary tomorrow,” Harry tried.

Draco slowed down his quick scribbling, then nodded. “Yes, I remember. We can… do a late lunch? Here?”

Harry looked at him, frowning. “I kind of wanted to go to the cliff. You know, spend some time there.”

“I can’t, really. I got some work to do right after. I’m terribly sorry, love, but results are on Monday, I need to finish up essays for extra credit.” 

That was a lie, but Harry didn’t call him on it. If Hermione, Ron, or anyone else asked, he would just say he didn’t think to check the last day for turning in assignments. Which was certainly not the week before, because Harry, like said earlier, hadn’t checked. 

“It’s our anniversary,” he said softly, sounding defeated. “Dates aren’t quite important, I know, but…”

Draco wrapped both his arms around Harry, kissing the back of his neck, making him shiver. “I know, darling, and I’m sorry,” and his tone sounded so genuine, Harry knew he meant it. “We could spend the summer…” he trailed off into silence. “Actually, I’m not sure if that’d be a good idea.”

“This is awful,” he nuzzled his head into Draco’s shoulder. And then, finally, he said, “things are going to change this summer.”

“I know.” Draco started to stroke Harry’s messy hair.

“I don’t really like change.”

“I know.” He kissed the top of Harry’s head. “But it doesn’t change anything between us, right?”

“No. Certainly not. I promise.”

“I promise, too.”

And, while it wasn’t much, it was still something. It was all they had. Their word - their promise.

***

Harry and Draco, from what they decided a while back, don’t really do big gifts. They do… poems and small things that remind them of one another, like the charm bracelet Harry got last year. 

After a lot of insisting from Harry, they decided that the hearing aids he received would be as large as the gifts would ever go, because he never wanted to feel like he was using Draco’s money for his benefit. Much after Draco’s whining and pleading that there was a difference between being used and gifting with love , they decided to settle on small gifts.

Harry had given Draco another charm to add to his bracelet on his birthday, and dark green nail polish. Hermione had told him to give him the nail polish as a joke. Draco insulted it and protested that he wasn’t going to wear a ‘girl’s product’, however, thanked him and kissed him. It was cute, that amidst the chaos, sneaking around, and lying to each other for the sake of their conscience, lives, and relationship, they still had their moments together that made it all so worth it.

Today, as Harry entered the Room of Requirement, he tapped his watch (that was paired with Draco’s) once, which from what he remembered, meant ‘hey’. He got one tap back, which likely meant that Draco was on his way.

And he was. The door opened and he entered. His face was pale, and he looked exhausted, but he was smiling, and for the first time in a while, it didn’t look forced.

“Hello, love,” he said softly, then looked around, spotting the new table. “Wow, you really went all out for this date.”

“I did,” Harry nodded, putting on a serious expression. “The things I do for you.”

“It’s too much, really,” Draco answered, sitting down opposite Harry at the table. “I got us some food from the Three Broomsticks.”

“You know, I completely forgot that we were doing lunch.”

“I figured that would happen. The things I do for you,” he shook his head. He got out the food and Harry dived right in, having not eaten breakfast out of excitement for their date. “Harry, I say this not because I think it’s unattractive, but hazardous for your health. Don’t stuff your face with food. You’ll feel sick.”

“The fact that you said it doesn’t make me look unattractive makes me think that it precisely does.”

“Nevertheless, eat slowly.”

“Alright,” Harry slowed down his chewing.

“Here, have a sausage,” Draco cut a sausage into a smaller piece and held it to Harry’s mouth. “Normally I’d find the Three Broomsticks a bit low for my standards, but… I’m not going to lie, this is pretty good.”

Harry smiled, taking the bite. He looked down at Draco’s hands, noticing his nails were dark green. He choked on his food which startled Draco.

“Oh Merlin, Harry, are you okay?” He stood up, panicked.

Harry shook his head, gulping. “I’m okay. I just…” he trailed off into silence, looking up at Draco, who was frowning, sincerity and worry etched upon his face. “I just remembered how much I love you.”

Draco’s cheeks flushed. He coughed slightly, sitting back down. “You can’t even eat properly,” he mumbled, but he was smiling. “Whatever. I love you too.”

“I like your nails.”

He looked down at his hands. “Oh. Thank you. Pansy insisted on putting it on me. And you know, once she sets her mind on something, it’s hard to tell her to stop. Especially when it’s to embarrass me.”

“Well, I think it looks lovely on you, not embarrassing.”

Draco’s blush deepened. “Stop it.”

“Oh, and,” Harry set down his fork, “I… want to go to the cliff. Please. I know you said you're busy, but...”

He thought about it for a moment. “I… suppose if we eat quickly, we can go for an hour or so,” he nodded. “I, too, wanted to go there today. I’m just a bit short on time. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Draco wolfed down his food, and Harry resisted the urge to call him a hypocrite, mainly because Draco looked beautiful when he was excited. Well, he always looked beautiful, but even more so.

“Right, let’s go!” 

Harry nodded. He was happy to see that Draco looked less pale now that they had eaten. 

Sneakily, they managed to make their way to the cliff, where Harry felt instantly more at ease. The sun was - very slowly - starting to set by now. The view was incredible like always. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry sighed.

“It is,” Draco said, his eyes on Harry.

“My face or the sunrise?”

“Don’t quote me.”

“Don’t imitate me, then.”

Draco wrapped an arm around Harry, who leaned his head on his shoulder, calming himself. They sat there for a few moments in silence. Harry took a mental note of everything around him right now. Draco’s soft breathing, the slight breeze, the pink sky, the feeling of being in his arms. 

He must’ve fallen asleep, because he was suddenly being woken by Draco. 

“You have a letter,” Draco spoke softly. “And… I need to go soon.”

Harry, still a bit disoriented, opened the letter, realizing it was from Dumbledore, asking him to meet him in his office immediately. He stood up, his senses coming back to him suddenly.

“I need to go too. Like… right now. Dumbledore’s waiting for me,” he turned to leave, then turned right back around, taking Draco’s hands, looking up at him. “Happy anniversary. I love you.”

“Happy anniversary. I love you too,” Draco said quietly, then took out a small piece of paper, handing it to Harry. “Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I could never.”

They stood there for a moment, Harry clinging gently to Draco’s shirt, digging his feet into the ground as if something would root him in his spot.

“I don’t want to go,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “Tell me to stay, Draco. Please.”

Draco shut his eyes, as if he was willing himself not to. “You know I can’t, love. You have to go.”

“Please,” Harry pleaded.

“Go. You’ll see me again before you know it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he whispered.

With everything in him, Draco took a step back from Harry. “Go, darling. Before I change my mind. Because it’ll be bad for both of us if I do.”

“I love you,” Harry said again.

“And I you.”

And with a soft kiss - much that felt like goodbye to this moment, or whatever peace their relationship had left - Harry was walking away, an ache in his chest, because he knew for certain things would never be the same again. He opened the piece of paper, which revealed a poem. It was the first one in months.

Darling of mine, 

There is so much to say, but not enough time

The changes of our lives,

We must do it to survive

The shame I feel, oh it floods my chest

It leaves me with no rest

A tough road ahead I foresee,

But it won’t ever change you and me

D.M.

***

“You swore to obey me, Harry,” Dumbledore was saying. “Go!”

“I…” Harry stood before his headmaster, his heart pounding. He moved forward down the spiral staircase, pausing when he heard footsteps. He looked back at Dumbledore, who gestured for him to come back.

He just about made it back up the stairs when he noticed Draco, who was shakily making his way up, quickly shouting Expelliarmus at Dumbledore. Harry moved to take off his Cloak, then realized he couldn’t move.

Shit. He couldn’t watch this.

Draco’s eyes moved to the two brooms. “Where’s Harry?”

Dumbledore’s eyes glinted knowingly. “I’m not quite sure if that concerns you.”

“It-” he paused, shaking his head. “I suppose it doesn’t. Anyway - there are Death Eaters here tonight.”

Harry had never heard a tone so malicious come out of Draco’s mouth, nor had he seen this cold expression in a while. It had to be a facade - his silver eyes were a dead giveaway. Moreover, Harry hoped Draco wouldn’t have the heart to kill Dumbledore. He couldn’t.

“Draco, you are not a killer,” Dumbledore said.

“You’re right,” he answered. “I’m not. I don’t really intend to be one tonight, either.”

“And,” the Headmaster tilted his head, “what might you say if someone heard you say such a thing?”

“I’d tell them that a Malfoy wouldn’t ever say such an absurd statement, and they should get their ears checked,” he held his wand up. “Is Harry safe?”

“Quite.”

They had no time to say anything else. The rest of the Death Eaters arrived. Harry wished he hadn’t been wearing his hearing aids for this. Draco kept his wand up and was mostly silent, but had a sneer on his face. Harry had to admit, he was good at pretending. It almost fooled him. But between the rough exchanges between everyone, as Snape raised his wand, Draco dropped his hand almost immediately, as if he was relieved. But he couldn’t hide his frown as Snape killed Dumbledore right before him.

Draco turned and for a moment, Harry could’ve sworn they had made eye contact.

And just like that, Dumbledore was gone. Everything would change. Nothing would ever quite stay the same anymore. Harry, as he moved down the stairs to chase the Death Eaters, tried not to think about what that meant for Draco and him.

Because that’d only wound his already aching heart more.

***

The aftermath was probably the worst for Harry. It was what gave him the most time to think. As he sat in the hospital wing, he stared into space while everyone was speaking to each other quietly. The atmosphere was tense. Hermione sat down beside him.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she asked.

He turned to look at her. “Knew what?”

“About Malfoy. You knew he was a Death Eater, and what he was set to do.”

He thought about it for a moment. “No. I didn’t. He never said anything to me,” he answered, looking away from her.

“You know that’s not true,” she nudged him. “Come on, Harry, you could’ve saved-”

“There was nothing that could be done. You don’t think I tried warning Dumbledore, even if it was subtle? He told me to stay silent before I could even utter a word… he knew already. And what do you think would happen to Draco if they found out he wasn’t really-”

She glared at him. “Is that really what you’re worried about, Harry? When Dumbledore’s life was at stake?’

“Like I said, Dumbledore already knew. If he wanted to, he would’ve done something about it,” he shook his head, then stood up. “And yes. It is what I’m worried about, because I love him. Would you please respect that?”

She glanced up at him, then sighed in defeat, still glaring. Pulling a note out of her pocket, she handed it to Harry. “Pansy gave it to me amidst the chaos. Said it’s for you.”

He opened it quickly.

Meet me one last time. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and I won’t leave until you’re here.

D.M

He looked up at Hermione. “I-”

She waved him off. “I’ll tell them you went to bed and ask Ron to cover for you. Go, dumbass.”

Harry loved her sometimes. He quickly snuck away and walked up to the room of requirement, sighing when he saw it was empty. Maybe Draco had just left, or maybe he hadn’t had a chance to get away.

As he sat down, the door suddenly opened, and Draco entered, sweating and breathless.

“Quite reckless of me to come back, isn’t it?” Draco laughed nervously. “I’m laughing because I think I’ll cry if I don’t. By the way, your spell and wand work is so much better. You did really well back there against everyone, thanks to me."

Harry sat back on the couch, shutting his eyes for a moment. He was barely listening to Draco. “He’s gone,” he whispered. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Draco's fake smile dropped. “I need you to know that I didn’t intend to kill him-”

“I know.”

Draco frowned. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. This is probably so awful for you. Do you ever… regret being with me?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Not usually. Right now, a little bit. But I mostly feel regret for not doing anything. He had me immobilized. Maybe if I could’ve defended him if I wasn’t…”

“He was keeping you safe,” he said, taking Harry’s hand gently. “And… he knew about my attempts. I figured. I didn’t really try my best to cover my tracks. But… he didn’t stop me whatsoever. A part of me thinks…”

“He wanted this to happen?” Harry finished for him. “Yeah, me too. And I’m so confused as to why.”

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“A wonderful anniversary, isn’t it?” Harry said. Draco gave him a blank expression. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. I know none of this is your fault.”

“And… you do understand none of it is your fault, too?”

His green eyes twinkled. “You know me better than that, love. Of course I blame myself. I always do.”

“Well… don’t.”

“Words of comfort.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m not good at comforting,” Draco whispered, pulling Harry in close. Even this was a bit different now, but neither of them tried to think about that. “I better go soon.”

“And if I ask you to stay?”

“Don’t. You know you shouldn’t.”

“Stay,” Harry said, his eyes welling up with tears. “I can’t lose two people in one night. God, Draco, this hurts so much.”

“You’re not losing me,” Draco said softly. “I’m always here,” he reached forward and touched Harry’s chest gently. “And I’m always up here too,” he pressed his index finger gently against Harry’s temple. 

“Where else are you?” Harry asked, tears streaming down his face.

Draco’s hand - hesitantly and carefully - trailed down Harry’s face. He kissed Harry’s neck. “I’m everywhere,” he whispered. He kissed his arms, his fingers, his palms, his chest, down to his stomach. “I’m always with you.”

Harry took his shirt off slowly. “Show me.”

Pushing him gently back on the couch, Draco kissed him on the lips finally, his hands wandering down, slipping into Harry’s trousers, who let out a soft, low moan. “I have to go after this.”

“Shh,” Harry whispered. “For now, just stay with me.”

And Draco stayed, because how could he ever say no?

Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, staring down at his watch. He had sent a few taps in the past few days, but never got any in response. Maybe Harry had taken it off and kept it somewhere. That was the only logical explanation. 

He tried not to think of the other options. Like - maybe Harry was mad at him, or maybe he was cutting him off. Or… worse. He could be hurt or in danger. With every waking moment, the regret of making an absurd deal with Harry only grew. How could Draco possibly have thought he’d be able to keep Harry second? Harry was first, always. Even when he hadn’t realized it.

He was the first thought in the morning. He was the first to make Draco feel worth something. The first to help him understand that being a Malfoy didn’t make his entire identity. His first love. His first everything.

It had been a month since Dumbledore’s death. The days had been bleak. Luckily for Draco, his father was usually out with Death Eater work, and he’d be left at home. The only dreadful time was the Death Eater meetings that occurred every week or so.

A knock on the door shot him out of his thoughts. He said ‘come in’, knowing it wasn’t his father, thankfully. Lucius usually knocked more sharply and loudly, the authority behind it clear. He smiled slightly at his mother, who shut the door behind her gently.

“Good morning. I was waiting for you at breakfast,” Narcissa said softly. “When did you wake up?”

“Oh, I apologize. I didn’t quite feel hungry,” he turned back to his journal, staring down at his half-written poem. He shut it and turned to look at her. “I woke up a few hours ago, but… I couldn’t quite sleep last night. I just needed to gather myself.”

She sat down on a chair, taking a deep breath. “You must be stressed.”

“Not really,” he said quietly, but with the way she looked at him, he could tell she knew he was lying. “Have they found any trace of Potter?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. Come, sit with me. I want to talk to you. Your father just left for some work, so this is the best time,” she said, yet she still seemed on edge, looking at the door every few moments.

He moved and sat down opposite his mother, worry growing in his chest. “Is something wrong? Do you feel sick again?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that, love,” she sighed. “I just wanted to know… did you actually intend to kill Dumbledore that night? Snape told me about your hesitation. He said it must be due to your inexperience, however… I know you haven’t been a perfect boy, but… you’re not a killer.”

“No. I’m just part of a family that kills,” he said quietly.

“Draco,” she took his hands carefully. “I’m trying my best to protect you, alright? I know this is hardly what you want, that’s why I think it’s best if you go back to Hogwarts. It’s just your last year.”

“I’d prefer not to,” he sighed. He couldn’t stand the thoughts of the empty hallways without Harry. The dark atmosphere. The Room of Requirement. Spending Friday evenings and weekends without spending time with him at all. It would only hurt more. “I don’t see a point in it… besides, who’ll take care of you while Father is busy with the Dark Lord?”

“I think, if you want to be saved from Death Eater duty, you better go,” she smiled at him warmly. “Okay?”

He weighed his options. Realistically, it’d be better. He’d be away from Death Eater meetings, so he wouldn’t need to feel guilty about knowing the plans and not being able to tell Harry. That was good. But Draco also couldn’t imagine Hogwarts without Harry - as his enemy or anything else.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I suppose I should go, then.”

Hogwarts without Harry Potter. Well, that’d be a new one.

***

“Harry, you’re doing it again.”

He snapped out of his thoughts, shaking his head. “I’m not. I was listening,” he protested, looking up at Hermione, who was staring at him accusatively, her arms folded. She narrowed her eyes.

“Right, so what did I just say?”

“Um… ‘Harry, you’re doing it again’?”

She gave him a sarcastic smile. “Witty. As I was saying, are you sure it’s a good idea to go searching for the Horcruxes?” she asked, her expression suddenly turning serious. 

“Like I said, you don’t have to come with me.”

“Are you out of your mind? Of course we’re going to come,” Ron shook his head. “That’s out of the question. But I do think we should think this through.”

“I’ve done the research necessary, and I’ll do more until we have to leave,” Hermione replied. “We’ll stay for the wedding. Then we’ll go.”

“But the Trace breaks in four days,” Harry pointed out.

“We’ll have to stay for the wedding, or Mum’s going to be more mad than she already is,” Ron sighed in response. He turned to Hermione, who put a hand on his thigh. They were seated on the floor of Ron’s room. 

“Ron!” Molly Weasley called from downstairs.

“Coming!” He responded, then turned to Hermione and Harry. “So we’re in agreement, yeah? We’ll stay for the wedding?”

Harry gave an expression as if to say ‘fine, whatever’, and Ron got up to leave the room. Hermione gazed at Harry, concern written all over her face. He avoided her eyes, glancing down at the watch on his wrist that vibrated. Draco was trying to communicate again. Unable to shake off the uneasy feeling of missing him, he decided he should probably let Draco know he was safe. 

He sent two taps back. ‘I miss you’. 

“How are you doing?” she asked. “And I want a real answer.”

He got two taps back. ‘I miss you too’.

Rage grew in his chest. It was so easy for her to say that. She didn’t understand what it was like to be in love with someone who’s supposed to kill you. He opened his mouth to say that, then stopped himself. Hermione should’ve been in hiding, given that she was a Muggle-born and in danger, yet here she was. He had to cut her some slack.

“I don’t know,” he answered finally, running a hand through his messy hair. “Just trying to adjust to this change.”

“Me too,” she said quietly. “And… with Draco?”

He rubbed his temples. “I’m worried for his safety. More importantly… I’m worried that this… might be something we can’t overcome,” it was the first time he had said that out loud. “You know. War. It’s… a big thing.”

“Well, yes,” she nodded. “But I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Something like that… it’d take a lot to break, don’t you think?”

“I…” The way they looked at each other? He hadn’t really ever paid attention to that. “I don’t know. I guess only time will tell.”

“I’m sure you know you can’t owl him. Or anyone, for that matter. I don’t trust that source of communication anymore,” she stated, biting her thumb. She eyed him somewhat suspiciously. “You won’t, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t,” he replied. 

“Alright, I’m going down,” she said. He grunted in response, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Chin up, Harry.”

Then she left. He hugged his knees, resting his head against the wall. He loved Hermione and Ron for everything they were sacrificing for him; he did. But it just wasn’t the same. It was so difficult to be grateful when all he wanted was Draco. He wanted to see him. Their last night together; on their anniversary - which was now tainted by Dumbledore’s death - was good. Even after the chaos and mishaps. But when he’d woken up, Draco was gone, without a trace, except for a small note.

The note had said,

I couldn’t bear for you to tell me to stay again. Because if you did, I’d never leave your side. Stay safe. 

Yours,

Draco

Harry just wanted to feel Draco against him again - the smoothness of his skin, his tingly, sensual touch, his deep voice. He wished he hadn’t fallen asleep, because then he could’ve asked Draco to stay. And Draco Malfoy on Harry Potter’s side, as astonishing as it would be to the public, was all he really wanted.

As he sat in that room by himself, hearing the chatter and laughter from downstairs, Harry realized he hadn’t felt this alone since he was eleven years old.

***

The wedding had made him feel worse. He had allowed his mind to go to a place he had never thought of before. An image of him and Draco having a wedding of their own popped into his mind. It eased the pain in his heart a little bit, only to be reminded just how impossible that was.

He knew it was a mistake to stay for the wedding. And his birthday - well, that was just sad. He was excited to be seventeen, to finally have the Trace off of him, but all he could think of was his sixteenth birthday, spent with Draco, alone in his room at the Grimmauld Place.

As he sat down at a table, watching Hermione dance with Ron for a while. Moping around a little, he made small talk with Luna who had momentarily paused her unique dancing to check in with him. Afterwards, Hermione sat down beside Harry, sighing.

“I’m exhausted. How are you feeling?” she asked, running a hand through her hair.

He opened his mouth to answer, but something had grabbed everyone’s attention. He followed their gaze.

‘The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.’

It was time to go.

Things were blurry, but eventually, Hermione, Harry and Ron had managed to escape. They were panicking, and in desperate need of a hiding place. So they went to the first place Harry could think of - Grimmauld Place. He didn’t think he’d be back here so soon.

After an exhaustive yet somewhat informative conversation with Kreacher, they all went to sleep, deciding to stay at Grimmauld Place until they figured out their next move. He was out like a log the first night, because he was tired.

The second night, not so much. He checked his watch. It was nearing five. He had barely been able to sleep the entire night. The sun was starting to rise, so he decided to get up. Ron was snoring soundly and Hermione was passed out. She was probably exhausted from the stress. She tended to take on a lot of pressure from situations.

Pulling his t-shirt down, he made his way to the kitchen, craving some tea. As he turned on the kettle, he leaned against the table, trying to ease his throbbing head by massaging his temples.

There was a small sound from the nearby room, followed by footsteps. Ron was still snoring and the footsteps sounded slightly heavy. Neither Hermione or Ron would be wearing shoes, since they’d have just woken up. It had to be someone dangerous. A Death Eater, maybe?

Harry took out his wand from his pocket, slowly stepping out of the kitchen. As he did so, he bumped into someone, but instinctively took a step back, putting his wand to their neck. His eyes filled with recognition when a pair of silver eyes looked back at him.

“Draco,” he whispered, lowering his wand. Relief flooded his chest, and so did a sliver of happiness. Draco was here. In front of him. “Are you with anyone?”

He shook his head, and they both turned to the loud whistling kettle. Harry quickly ran to turn it off, then turned back to face him.

“Let’s talk in the other room, I don’t want them to know you’re here,” Harry said quietly. They went up to Harry’s room, where Draco remained tense, eyebrows creased into a frown.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t think you’d be here,” he said, his tone serious and panicked. “Now I’ll have to-”

“Hold on. That can wait,” Harry cut him off, leaning forward and kissing Draco on the lips. At first, Draco froze, but he eventually kissed him back, the tension leaving his body. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Draco placed his hands on Harry’s hips. “I’ve missed you too,” he replied. “I was on patrol duty. Just had to check areas not to find you per se, but at least those on your side. I genuinely didn’t think you’d be here. And don’t worry, I’m sure no one else would think to look here. I won’t tell them I was here. I’ve been looking in places I thought you wouldn’t be, but… here we are.”

“Thank you,” Harry sighed, moving to sit on the bed. Draco, who still had his hands on him, followed. “I wouldn’t want to be caught in the first place I’ve been hiding. That’d be quite a failure.”

“I think,” Draco narrowed his eyes, “we are dangerously close to breaking our rules.”

“I don’t think either of us thought this far ahead, love,” he shook his head. They sat in silence, and Harry took his moment to study Draco. He looked tired, but less pale. He was wearing a black suit and his hair was gelled back.

Draco had been studying Harry, too. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. He seemed more scrawny, as if he hadn’t been eating much. His eyes were greener than ever, however, and Draco found himself getting lost in them.

Harry spoke finally, reaching out and putting a hand to Draco’s head. “Gelled.”

“To please my father,” He admitted once he had snapped out of his thoughts, a sheepish smile on his face as if he was ashamed to say it. “He prefers it like this. That’s a bit difficult for me to say.”

“I’m sorry. It sounds like there’s a lot more to that,” he answered, squeezing Draco’s thigh. “But…”

“But, we don’t have time for that. I’ll need to take my leave soon.”

“How soon?” Harry asked, grabbing Draco’s hand and gripping onto it tightly, afraid to let go. “I…” his eyes welled up with tears. “I’m not sure if I can keep doing this. It hurts so much, Draco.’

Draco leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Harry’s. “I know, my love. It hurts me too. More than you could imagine. But we have to stay strong.”

“Then stay,” he cried softly. “Stay. We’ll figure it out. We always do. You could hide from them. You could stay.”

“I could,” he whispered. Harry blinked in surprise. He wasn’t expecting that response. “I could help you with what you’re doing. Then I wouldn’t feel so guilty for each way I’m hurting you. And we could be together everyday.”

“It’d be so good.”

“It’d be amazing,” Draco nodded. He moved his head slightly, placing a gentle kiss on Harry’s lips. He stood up. “But things can’t be like that. For the sake of my safety, and more importantly, yours.”

“Draco,” Harry stood up too, tears streaming down his face. He reached out for Draco’s hand, who moved away. It stung him, but he stepped closer. “Please. Just-”

“I don’t have the strength to fight with you, Harry, so please,” Draco shook his head, his eyes glistening with tears. He took out his wand, his hands trembling, wiping his face furiously - as if he was ashamed to be crying. “Stay safe for me.”

Then he was gone.

And shit, it hurt so much.

Draco had Apparated from the Grimmauld Place to the first person he could think of. He looked around the dark room, eventually spotting Pansy who was in bed. She jumped awake at the sound of Draco Apparating, narrowing her eyes.

“Oh, fucking hell,” she threw a pillow at him, sitting up slowly. She raised an eyebrow when she noticed he let the pillow hit him. “It’s six in the morning, Draco.”

He sat down at the foot of her bed, trying to center himself, taking a few deep breaths.

“Really, just because I said you could visit from time to time doesn’t mean you can pop in any time you wish,” she was saying, running a hand through her short black hair. She pushed the covers off of her and sidled up beside him once she heard him crying. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He rubbed his eyes, turning to look at her. “I just saw Harry.”

“Now? Where?”

Draco shook his head. “I was just supposed to be looking for him. I didn’t intend to actually find... He told me he can’t keep doing this and that I should stay with him. I mean, he’s mad, isn’t he?”

“Is he?” Pansy asked, grimacing.

“Of course he is. I can’t stay. He’ll die before I do. It’s like asking to be found. I couldn’t possibly put him in that sort of danger, now could I?” he paused, then frowned when she didn’t answer. “Pansy?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded.

“He asked me to stay and I left him. Because he’ll be safer if I leave,” he wiped his face. “Tell me I did the right thing.”

She put an arm around him. “You did the right thing, Draco. That can’t have been easy. Choosing between him and your family.”

“I told him this. That I didn’t want to be in a situation where I had to choose. But here I am, like some bloody idiot, wishing that I was with him, but I’m too much of a coward to actually do it.”

She squeezed his shoulder gently. “It’s okay. Let me get you something to drink and we can talk about it more.”

Draco, despite himself - despite knowing he should probably return home - nodded and followed her down to her kitchen. Leaning against the counter, he watched as she got out two glasses. They stood in silence while she made some lemonade, then sat down back in her room, where she had a lounge area.

“Lemonade?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her, looking down at the glass. “You didn’t strike me as the type.”

“Well, the only other thing I have is Butterbeer, and it’s far too early in the morning for that,” she replied. “Besides, I make pretty good lemonade.”

He shrugged. “I’ll have to see.”

“So,” she sat back in her seat. “You want to be with him? What’s stopping you?”

“I didn’t say that. I can’t be with him right now. I mean… of course, he’s still my boyfriend. It’s just that we can’t see each other. It’s too dangerous.”

“I have an idea,” Pansy clutched her mug. “My parents aren’t usually home, and even if they are, they don’t really come up here to my floor.”

Draco took a sip of the lemonade, his eyes widening at how good it tasted. He looked up at her after a moment, trying to process what she said. “Uh… what are you trying to tell me? That I should live with you?”

She gave him a blank stare. “I love you, Malfoy, I do, but I can’t handle you around all the time. I’ve been doing it for six years and I’m growing a bit tired of it,” she sighed dramatically, then laughed when Draco kicked her with his foot. 

“Your point, Parkinson?” 

She ran a hand through her hair. “You and Harry could meet here. Once a week or something. Spend some time with him,” she offered. “I do request that if you’re going to have sex, do it in the guest room down the hallway. In fact, you can hang out there.”

“You know, Pansy, I was going to thank you. But like always, you said more than necessary,” Draco massaged his temples gently. “What about when we have to go back to Hogwarts?”

“I’m not sure. I can only do so much, Draco. Use your brain.”

He massaged his temples. “I’m still not quite sure. What would happen if your parents found Harry here? And what if they question why I’m here so often?”

“He has an Invisibility Cloak, doesn’t he?” she asked. “And… worst comes to worst, we can pretend we’re dating.”

Draco let out a laugh. “You and me?”

“It’s more believable than you think. Don’t make me regret helping you,” Pansy huffed. “So, what are you going to do?”

His smile faded. He set down his half-finished glass of lemonade, cracking his knuckles as he frowned. “I think… I should write to him.”

***

A few days had passed. Harry was seated at his desk in his room. He knew they couldn’t stay at Grimmauld Place for much longer. It would be only a matter of time before a Death Eater that wants to kill them would pay them a visit. It wasn’t a safe place to stay.

As much as Harry wanted to say he was angry at Draco, he knew he was being unreasonable. He knew it was too much to ask for. Leaning back in his seat, he gently stroked the scar on his forehead, trying to soothe the pain. It was late at night and Hermione and Ron were asleep downstairs. It was getting more difficult for Harry to sleep. As the stress grew, the nightmares increased.

He turned when he noticed a faint tapping on the window, only to see an owl waiting just outside. Quickly walking up to the window, he surveyed the area outside before opening it to let the owl in.

Dear H,

I regret the way I left things. I want to say a few words now, because I’m too afraid to say them out loud.

I know it may seem like I’m choosing them over you, but you’re the one who made me realise this is just something I need to do to survive. I love you and nothing can change that. I keep thinking about how to fix this, how to make it better, because it’s so complicated. But… it’s not. 

The bottom line is you. Loving you is simple. Despite all the bad things I’ve had to deal with, the one thing that makes it all tolerable is you. I’m sorry that things have to be this way. I wish I could be with you in normal circumstances. 

Normal has never quite been our thing.

Unfortunately, things can’t be like that. But what I can offer you is a few hours with me every Friday night at Pansy’s house. I’ve attached her address on a different piece of paper. She’s agreed to let us meet there, and don’t worry, it’s safe. We can meet until September, and maybe I can help you with whatever you need. Or... we can just spend time together.

Don’t push me away. I know you’re afraid of what all of this means for us, but I’m afraid too.

I think it’s unsafe for you to write back, so if you want to agree to this, please give me three taps on the watch. 

Once again: I love you.

Yours always,

D

Was loving someone a choice, or was it this dread that crept up on you while you slept? Loving Draco wasn’t dreadful. It was something Harry was afraid of. He was afraid of what he’d do if he lost him. But love wasn’t supposed to make you feel afraid, was it? It was relieving to realize that he wasn't the only one afraid. And maybe that's what made him tap his watch three times as a confirmation.

Shutting his eyes, he smiled to himself when his watch vibrated three times in return.

***

Hermione and Ron watched Harry, both frowning. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?” she asked, folding her arms. “I thought you and Malfoy had a deal... rules, whatever. Besides, he’s a Death Eater, remember? Can we trust-”

“That’s not even a question you should be asking,” Harry fumed. “I trust him with my life.”

“I know, Harry,” she stressed, trying to keep her composure, “but he may be in a position where he can’t choose. All I’m saying is… can’t this wait until things have cleared up more? If it ever does…”

Harry breathed in slowly, trying to understand her perspective. He had to be patient. “I know. I know it’s selfish of me, and I know it’s a huge risk, but…” he stared down at the watch on his wrist. “It’s killing me a little bit. Not being with him.”

She stood up, pursing her lips. “Fine. But all you get is two hours. I’m not leaving my fate in the hands of a Malfoy.”

Ron shook his head. “Harry, you better be right about him.”

And while everything else was uncertain, this was the only thing he could say he was sure of. Trusting Draco with his life.

He Apparated to Pansy’s house, feeling a little disoriented when he reached. He probably would never get used to the feeling of Apparating. Looking around, he flinched when he saw Pansy and Draco, wide-eyed, sitting on the couch.

“Hello,” he said, adjusting the hearing aid in his ear, smiling awkwardly.

Pansy smiled at Harry. “You came.”

“You came,” Draco repeated after Pansy, his trembling hands enveloping Harry, as if he couldn’t believe it. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I left so awfully. I… fuck. I don’t know what to say. I understand if you’re cross.”

Pansy placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “I’ll be in the other room. Holler if you need anything.”

As soon as she left, Harry turned to Draco. “I am cross,” he held both of Draco’s hands tightly as they remained standing there. “I’m so angry. But I can’t bring myself to waste our limited time like that. So fuck you, but also, I love you.”

Draco pressed his forehead against Harry’s. “I love you too.”

“Did you mean it?” Harry whispered. “I’m the bottom line?”

“Always.”

With a soft kiss, Harry pulled away, shaking off the sentimentalities and sitting down on the couch, adjusting his glasses. “Enough. I don’t want to be sad.”

“You’re right. We have time for that later,” Draco replied, sitting down beside Harry. “But… I’m not sure if our rules make any sense anymore. Are we sticking to them?”

“Fuck those rules, Draco,” Harry shut his eyes, trying to contain his emotions, but failing like usual. “I’m sick of treading carefully. The truth is, we’re on opposite sides of a war. That will always be the truth. No amount of rules is going to change that.”

Draco licked his lips, reaching out and stroking Harry’s hair gently. “I know. But the rules kept us safe.”

“Did it? Because all I remember is knowing you were supposed to kill Dumbledore, and not being able to do anything about it,” he snapped, guilt creeping up his chest when he saw the look in Draco's eyes. “I’m sorry. I'm sorry. It’s not your fault. It really isn't.”

“It’s okay. You’re hurting right now.”

“I’m always hurting,” Harry said without thinking. When Draco gave him a confused look, he clenched his jaw. “When I’m not thinking about Dumbledore, I’m thinking about Sirius. And when I’m not thinking about him, I’m thinking of Cedric or my parents. And when I finally get a break from the guilt, I’m thinking about you, and how I’m making you sacrifice-”

“You’re not making me do anything. I chose it. I chose you. I will always choose you.”

“It’s going to kill you,” Harry’s voice cracked.

“You underestimate me, Harry,” Draco smiled as he put his hands on Harry’s face, using his thumb to wipe away his tears. “Listen. I know I can’t make any of it go away. Let’s take it one step at a time, alright? Right now, I’m here. And you have all of me.”

One step at a time. He could try that.

Harry did not remember falling asleep. He only remembered being back in Grimmauld Place, being woken by the ghost of a kiss that he could feel on his cheek. The pain of being apart from Draco was still there, but it was less. That was a start.

The next week was chaotic. They had finally left Grimmauld Place behind after breaking into the Ministry, and Harry was, somehow, starting to feel more settled into his life as someone on the run. It felt a little fake, however, due to the fact that he was still meeting with Draco on Fridays in the comfort of Pansy's house.

Their deal to meet at Pansy’s ran past September. They had never addressed it. Harry would Apparate from wherever he was hiding, exhausted, happy to be with Draco, who’d Apparate from Hogwarts, which was way more relaxed in the sense of Apparating. Also, it didn't quite matter, because he was a Death Eater. He would describe how much Hogwarts had changed, and how much he hated it. Harry would be vague with whatever he was doing, but it was easier to just address things rather than hide behind the rules. Harry was more open about how he was feeling. Sometimes he'd confess how anxious he felt, or that he was missing someone. Other times he'd listen to Draco rant about how frustrating his father was. And to their surprise, it helped. Talking actually helped.

So here Harry was, on a mid-September night, listening to Draco’s voice reading out a story. His head was pressed up against Draco’s chest, so he could feel his voice too; soft and deep and soothing. It was a beautiful way to fall asleep.

“You know what?” Draco stopped narrating suddenly, shutting the book. “I think I became the one thing I swore not to.”

Harry blinked, waking himself up. “What? Someone who uses too much hair gel?”

“Get over the hair gel, will you?” he snapped, resting his chin on Harry’s head, involuntarily putting his hand to his hair. “What I meant was, I’ve become stupid for someone I’m in love with. You know, Pansy’s always going on about how love is blind. I think she’s actually right. I’ve dumbed myself down for you. Also, I’m doing sappy romantic things that I usually found disgusting.”

“Like this?” Harry adjusted himself on Draco’s lap, turning to kiss him.

Draco kissed him back, shutting his eyes. He lost himself for a moment, then quickly pulled away. “No- I mean, yes, but… now you’re just turning me on, Harry.” He placed his hands on Harry’s hips, who was grinding on him. “So much for trying to be honest with you.”

“You know what I think, Draco?” Harry said against Draco’s lips. “I think you secretly wanted the sappy romantic things.”

“Perhaps you're right.”

“Did you just agree?”

“Shut up, Harry!”

And somehow, this had become their new (ab)normal. But it was like Draco had said: normal wasn’t quite their thing.

Drace was quite blatantly relying on Fridays to help him feel better not only about himself as a person but about what his life had become. While he didn’t have to be as active in his role as a Death Eater now that he was at Hogwarts, there were still certain expectations he had to meet. And it wasn’t as if the rare occasion where he  did  go home to visit his mother was easy.

Because even while stressed and plotting the murder of a seventeen-year-old - who happened to be Draco’s boyfriend - Lucius Malfoy was still uncompromising as ever. Draco wondered how he would’ve turned out if he hadn’t fallen in love with Harry. Would he be as bitter as his father? Worse, would he actually want Harry dead?

Sitting at the dinner table was hell. While being at Hogwarts reduced the amount of time he spent with his father, even the little time they had together was awful.

“How are your studies, Draco?” Lucius asked, his fork screeching against his plate. “I’d imagine things are much   better with Severus as Headmaster.”

“You’d be surprised,” Draco coughed as he stared down at his plate, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

“Pardon?”

“Ah, I said you’re right. Things are going well,” he nodded. “Mother, how are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m alright, Draco, just feeling a little under the weather,” she lightly scraped her fork against her food. She seemed pale but was forcing a smile. Draco didn’t want to pry, especially in front of his father. Instead, he finished up his meal, then asked to be excused from the table.

He checked the time, then took out his wand to Apparate to Pansy’s house, who had an arm around Harry as they sat on her bed.

“Hey…” he took a tentative step towards them, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Harry stood up and sunk into Draco’s arms, unwilling to speak. Pansy whispered slowly, “he had a fight with Ron.” She stood up, squeezing Harry’s shoulder gently as she walked past, leaving the room as per usual.

“Are you okay, Harry?”

“No,” he blurted as they sat down on her bed again, Draco with his arms around Harry. “I had a huge argument with Ron, and now he’s just… he’s  gone . He’s left me and Hermione, and- and… I said all these things I didn’t mean, but he…” 

“Okay, okay,” Draco put his hands on Harry’s shoulders in an attempt to get him to calm down. “Deep breaths. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“He said I don’t have anyone,” Harry mumbled. “That I’m pathetic to lean on a Malfoy, who has the power to get me killed.”

“He’s the one that sounds pathetic,” Draco fumed.

“No. I feel like he’s just hurt. I get to come here every Friday, take a break from that reality. He doesn’t get that. Besides, Hermione said he’d been wearing the Horcrux for hours. It probably affected him badly. I just…” he trailed off into silence. “I didn’t think he’d leave.”

Draco kissed the top of his head, wrapping his arms around Harry. “I’d protect you with my life. I hope you know that.”

“Hmm,” was all Harry said in response, shutting his eyes, exhaustion washing over him. He didn’t want to make everything about him again. He tried to ignore the echoing of Ron’s words in his head. “I just… I don't want to think about anything anymore.”

“We can do that,” Draco said, pulling both of them further up Pansy’s bed so they were lying down. “Just rest.”

There was only one thing that hurt Draco more than seeing Harry like this: the simple fact that there was nothing he could do to change it or to make it better. Draco thought that being determined - knowing that he was firmly on Harry’s side - would help him feel more in control of who he was meant to be. But that couldn’t be further from what he felt.

Helpless. That’s how he’d describe how he felt.

***

Draco had reached back home only by midnight or so and had passed out almost immediately after getting into bed. He had decided to sleep in, but his sleep was cut short when there was a loud knock on his door at six in the morning.

“Draco?” Narcissa was on the other side of the door.

“Yes, come in,” he said tiredly as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What is it? Can’t this wait until-”

“Oh Merlin, Draco,” she said after casting a Muffliato charm and locking the door behind her. “What did you do?”

He stood up slowly, eyeing her carefully. “What do you mean?”

“There’s no time to explain. Put on some decent clothes. Listen, the Veritaserum they give you-”

“Mother, I say this with respect - what are you on about, exactly?” he asked, folding his arms. He didn’t allow himself to think the worst, because that wasn’t possible. There was absolutely no way-

“The Dark Lord thinks you’ve betrayed him.”

No. He was wrong. It was the worst.

He tried to look dumbfounded. “Why on earth would he believe such a thing?” he asked, folding his arms. “There’s no reason for him to think of such an absurd-”

“He’s seen some things through the boy’s mind. And save it, Draco, you’re not fooling me. You should be glad you’re even getting questioned. If the Malfoys weren’t so devoted to him, you would’ve been killed in your sleep.”

“Mother, I'm sorry-”

‘Lie,’ she signed in WSL, clearly too afraid to speak in case anyone heard. ‘Lie your way out of it.’

‘But Veritaserum…’ He was starting to sign back.

There was a sharp knock on the door. “Is Draco ready?” Lucius shouted, then burst the door open. There was a tense silence as Draco’s eyes met his father’s. He stepped forward and pointed his wand directly at Draco’s chest. “You’re a disgrace.”

“Lucius,” Narcissa said softly, but she stepped away from Draco. “We must let him explain himself.”

“You’ve grown soft on him,” he spat. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Father-” Draco began, but Lucius put a hand up.

“Get ready. Now.”

And thus, Draco’s worst nightmare had begun. There was nothing he could do about it. He got dressed, wearing the best clothes he could find because he wasn’t sure if he’d make it out alive. 

He took out the letter he had saved in his drawer. He had written it a while ago, once Dumbledore had died. A letter to Harry, almost as closure, in the scenario he ever got caught and was killed.

Pocketing it, he made his way to the familiar dining room of Malfoy Manor. The atmosphere was cold and dark. Thankfully, the only people in the room were a few Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, his parents, and Snape.

Draco sat down on the chair facing Voldemort, his body starting to tremble in fear. There was no lying his way out of this if he was given Veritaserum. He looked over to Snape who handed him a bottle of the potion. The look on his face was stony, with no emotion. Draco could not deduce what he was thinking. 

“Drink it,” Voldemort spoke. It was possibly the first time he had ever given his utmost attention to Draco, who found that he liked it better when he was hiding behind his father’s shadow. He felt vulnerable, fearful.

Feeling Voldemort’s unrelenting gaze on him, Draco slowly put the bottle to his lips, looking over to his mother, who subtly nodded. Her eyes were filled with worry as she stood beside Lucius. Draco wondered if death would be better than dealing with this. No, he had to stay strong.

After gulping a small sip of it, he stared at Voldemort, unsure of what was next. He felt no change in his body. He had never drunk Veritaserum before, but he had imagined it’d have a more jarring effect.

“Draco Malfoy…” Voldemort spoke slowly, standing up, stepping towards him. “Are you… or are you not a devoted follower?”

Draco looked for the urge to fight the truth, but it never came. He hesitantly opened his mouth, looking up at the Dark Lord, his body still trembling slightly. He clenched his fists, then finally spoke. “Yes. I am, my Lord.”

He glanced over to Narcissa, who gave him a small smile, remembering what she had said. ‘Lie’. It wasn’t Veritaserum. While it was relieving, it still didn’t mean he was off the hook. He had to play it off well, so it would go unsuspected.

“Then tell me,” he edged closer, placing his index finger underneath Draco’s chin, “why do you know Potter’s whereabouts?”

There were gasps and murmurs between the few Death Eaters watching. Draco took in a deep breath, trying to catch his mother’s eye again, but she was now gazing at her feet.

“I can explain,” he said.

“Yes, yes, you will,” he took a step back. “Do explain, Draco.”

“I…” he stared down at his lap, trying to think of something. Anything. “I have been working to gain Ha- Potter’s trust. I began to execute the plan last year, along with the task given to kill Dumbledore.”

No one said anything, so he decided to continue speaking.

“As you may know, my Lord, he is deaf. I decided to use this to my advantage. I befriended him by asking him to teach me sign language. Everything I have done is to please you… and gain any information as to what his plan is. I never spoke of it in case it would somehow reach him, and our trust would be broken.”

There was an everlasting silence. Draco gripped the arms of his chairs, his body sweating. Voldemort stepped towards him again, his face expressionless. 

“That is certainly admirable, Draco,” he nodded. “Do go on.”

“I…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I see him every week in a discreet location. He… still does not trust me enough to tell me his whereabouts, but he does ask me to bring him things.”

“Wonderful. When do you see him next? We must plan an attack-”

“No!” he blurted suddenly. Voldemort turned to look at him inquisitively. “I just… I mean, it isn’t wise, my lord. He still has his guard up with me. I think it would only backfire. We must wait.”

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, then turned. “Next week,” he stated. “We shall plan an attack for next week. As for this week - gain his trust more. Where is your usual rendezvous point?”

“Oh… different locations to remain discreet,” Draco answered. “My Lord, are you sure next week-”

“It is final. We will attack next week. And Draco, I expect you to be present at every meeting from now on.”

He was sent back out of the room. Lucius and Narcissa walked him out.

“...good job, Draco,” Lucius said, then walked back inside. Narcissa walked with him back to his room, where she once again locked the door and placed a Muffliato spell. He sat down on his bed, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

“You said Veritaserum,” he stated. “I thought…”

“I asked Severus,” she said. “He agreed it was best.”

“But… How did you know?” Draco asked. “That me and Harry…”

“You talked about him differently when you came back during your fifth year. I just hope your friendship with him is worth all of this, Draco,” she said, reaching forward and running a hand through his hair. 

Friendship. Sure. Draco could work with that. At least she was accepting. 

“Yes, it is,” he nodded.

“Then I trust you know what you’re doing. Now rest. Who knows what the next few weeks have in store for us.”

He laid down in his bed, and much to his surprise fell asleep almost immediately.

***

Harry was already in Pansy’s room when Draco had reached that week. He smiled when he saw Draco.

“Hey you,” he stood up and leaned in to kiss Draco, who moved away quickly, his face pale. “Draco? What’s wrong?”

Pansy sat up too. “Everything okay, Draco?”

Draco looked around, then signed, 'Muffliato charm’. Pansy took out her wand and cast it, frowning. Harry stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Draco, however, looked around the room suspiciously. After a moment, he shook his head.

“Take your wand out,” he told Harry, who did so. “I need you to Crucio me.”

“What?” Harry asked. “Don’t be ridiculous and tell me what’s going on, Draco.”

“They know,” Pansy said suddenly, “don’t they? The Death Eaters. They know about you and Harry.”

Harry felt his stomach sink. “No,” he whispered. “What did you tell them? How did they-”

“It wasn’t me, Harry,” Draco snapped. “But thank you for the accusations. In fact, I saved us.”

“Then…” he took a few steps back in realization, putting a hand to his scar, his head starting to spin. “No. No, I was…”

Guilt instantly flooded Draco. He took a step forward, holding Harry’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m just stressed. We need to end this relationship for your safety. They’re planning on attacking next week. That’s why you need to pretend you found out I betrayed you.”

“What?” Harry asked, his head still spinning. “I…”

Pansy and Draco guided him to a chair. Pansy gave him a few sips of water while Draco started to explain everything.

“I had to lie. Say that I’ve been secretly trying to gain your trust so you can tell me details of your plan, but I said you don’t trust me fully yet. He said he wants to plan an attack for next week. So you have to Crucio me. I’ll go back and tell them that our friendship is over. My wounds will prove it.”

“You want me to Crucio you, Draco? No. I’m not going to do that,” Harry stood up, walking back and forth. “I can’t hurt you like that.”

“Trust me, I don’t want this either, but I can’t exactly do it to myself.”

Draco and Harry instantaneously turned to Pansy, who looked between the two of them, wide-eyed. Her hair was disheveled and she was in her pajamas. She shook her head frantically. “No, Draco, leave me out of this. I’m your best friend. You can’t possibly-”

“I’m his boyfriend. I think that’s worse!”

“No!” she folded her arms. “I’m not doing it!”

“Pansy, you’ll have to Disapparate us back to Malfoy Manor. Say that you were around for back-up, okay?” Draco asked.

She nodded. “Okay. I can do that for you. I’ll… give you two a moment.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, still walking back and forth in the room. Then, he finally stopped right in front of Draco. “I’m sorry for accusing you. And I’m so sorry that he found out through me.”

“It’s okay,” Draco shook his head. “I’m sorry for blindsiding you like this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Harry whispered, leaning closer. Draco had told himself he would stay away from him. But he couldn’t possibly. He let Harry close the space between them, kissing him with all the strength he could because he wasn’t sure when - and if - there would be a next time.

Draco took note of Harry’s arms around his neck, his chapped lips and this sense of urgency Harry always had when kissing him. It was rough, but it was real, and it was his. This time with Harry was his.

Harry took note of Draco’s hands on his waist, reaching underneath his shirt. He knew that it was inevitable, what he had to do next. Hurt Draco then say goodbye indefinitely.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at Draco. He opened his mouth, then turned away, his hands trembling. “I can’t fucking do it.”

“You can,” Draco said softly. “I’ll be okay.”

“I…” he shut his eyes, clutching his wand tightly. “Hurt me instead.”

“That doesn’t work out.”

“Or I just won’t show up next week.”

“It’ll make things worse for me, and possibly you.”

“Fuck, Draco!” Harry kicked the wall with all his strength, but it barely made a dent. “I can’t believe this.”

“Harry,” Draco said softly. He turned around, and their eyes met again. “It’ll only hurt for a bit. I’ll be treated as soon as I reach.”

There was a long silence. Draco watched as Harry frowned, staring down at his wand, then finally coming to a resolution in his head. “I can use  Sectumsempra ,” he blurted. “I read it in Snape’s textbook. It’s for enemies, apparently.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Alright, yes, whatever works for you.”

“So this is it?” he asked quietly.

“For now.”

“For now,” Harry repeated. “I can live with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Not really, no. I’m hoping saying it will help me believe it more.”

“We’ll make it out of this okay,” Draco said, but he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “Lay low. Do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to.”

“I love you, Draco,” Harry squeezed his hand, raising his wand.

“I love you too.”

They asked Pansy to come back. They all waited intensely until Harry finally felt ready, pointing his wand at Draco’s chest, who nodded as if to reassure him.

“Sectumsempra!” he cast the best he could, shutting his eyes. Draco immediately fell to the ground. 

Draco could barely speak, blood seeping through his shirt. He was shaking uncontrollably as he whimpered in pain. The sight made Harry's chest tighten and his eyes well up with tears. Pansy took out her wand and placed a hand on Draco. Before she Apparated, she glanced up at Harry.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of him. Just go.”

And despite how much Harry wanted to stay, he had no choice but to leave.

When Draco woke, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Every inch of his body ached and he was starting to regret his past actions. Maybe it would’ve been easier to just go on the run with Harry. But he also knew he couldn’t just leave his mother to worry like that.

Or maybe he was hiding behind that excuse rather than actually making a difference.

He reached for his watch, but he couldn’t feel it on his wrist. Groaning, he sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in his room but the air smelled like cleaning detergent and distinct flowery perfume. 

Before he could attempt to recognize where the perfume could be from, the door opened.

“Pansy, we just checked a while back. He’s not awake-” Narcissa stopped short at the doorway. “Draco!” 

They both rushed into the room, Narcissa lingering behind, shutting the door behind her as Pansy ran to the bed, sitting down in the little space by the edge. 

There were tears in her eyes. “You bloody idiot,” Pansy pulled him into a hug, then quickly let go when he winced. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he pulled her back in, taking in her scent and resting his head on her shoulder as she squeezed him tightly. “It’s okay.” Though it wasn’t quite the same as being in Harry’s arms, it still made him feel safe.

And well, seeing his mother was a different type of safety he felt. Putting a hand to his pounding head, he finally let go of Pansy.

“How are you feeling?” Narcissa asked. “I should probably get Severus or Lucius to check on you. Those wounds were…” she trailed off into silence, shaking her head. “What happened, Draco?”

Draco straightened his back, pulling his shirt up which revealed engraved, deep scars on his chest. He quickly pulled it back down. “It looks worse than it feels,” he lied quickly. “It was… a mishap. Potter found out I was undercover and attacked me. I wasn’t prepared.”

She eyed him suspiciously, but she had no time to question his behavior, because she had to go get Severus to check on his wounds. 

Pansy placed a Muffliato Charm and turned to Draco. “She knows,” she stated. “Did you tell her?”

“No. She just knew. I don’t know, Pansy. She always knows. Sometimes it makes me feel safe, that I don’t have to say everything for her to understand,” he explained, wincing as chest started to throb in pain slightly. “Merlin, and I thought the Crucio spell was good? This hurts so much.”

He weakly grabbed the duvet to pull it over him, but didn’t manage. “Fill me in, please.”

“Right. You’ve been unconscious for three or four days. You’ve woken up sometimes, but all you did was stir, groan a little and sleep again after we forced some food in you,” she said. “And… Merlin. Arriving here was another story. But I acted well, obviously, I’m honestly really talented. I didn’t say anything because I’m not sure what your exact story is. All I said was, ‘Potter found out and got angry.’ They believed me.”

“Of course you acted well. You’re such a drama queen,” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Says you,” she retorted, then sighed after a moment of silence. “He was shaken up. I hope he’s doing okay.”

And suddenly, there was a different kind of ache in his chest. A longing, a sense of something missing, and fuck, regret. So much regret for the way things turned out, only because Draco had been so selfish.

“Should I have turned his offer down?” Draco asked suddenly. Pansy looked at him inquisitively, and this was the first time he had properly looked at her since she had entered the room. She looked exhausted, as if she had barely slept.

“His offer to join him on the run?”

“No,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Two years ago. When he said we should try out the relationship for a month. Do you think I’ve been stupid this whole time, to think we both can make it out alive from this?”

“I think,” she enveloped his hand with hers, “that in the past two years, I’ve seen you grow into a genuine, honest person that stays true to what he believes in. And Harry is quite possibly the only person who has managed to do that.”

“He’s so good,” Draco thought of Harry, and his green eyes. The way his eyes sparkle when he’s excited, the way they droop when he’s tired. Harry and his wavy, untamed hair, and his sweet voice. And his goal to be good. “He makes you want to do better. He’s so good, and he doesn’t even know it. He thinks of himself as this… magnet to darkness. But he’s so much more- Merlin, Parkinson, why are you laughing?”

She shook her head. “It’s just funny. The guy almost killed you and you’re still talking about him with glassy eyes. You… you two are really something else.”

After a check up with Snape, Draco was informed that there would be another meeting with Voldemort the next day, mainly because he was extremely disappointed and irritated with the way the events had turned out. Medically, all Draco needed to do was keep taking some medicine Snape had brewed for him. The scars would inevitably stay forever.

Pansy fell asleep beside Draco, but he couldn’t quite sleep, so after a midnight snack in the kitchen, he found himself in the library, trying to read a book.

“Up so late?” Narcissa asked, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Relax, dear.”

“I’m sorry,” he shut his book as she came to sit down beside him. “I’m just… extremely nervous for that meeting tomorrow. Do you think he’d… hurt me?”

“He can try, but I won’t let him,” she wrapped an arm around him. “You’re just a boy, Draco.”

“I’m not, Mother,” he said while leaning on her shoulder, trying to ignore his aching wounds. “I’m growing up. I’m making my own decisions. I’ve thought about it, I stand by whatever I’ve done. I don’t regret it.”

She eyed him again, the same look she had been giving him the past few weeks - as if she saw right through him and his web of lies. But he was a Malfoy. They didn’t talk about emotions. They didn’t talk about regret. Everything was done with pride.

Narcissa stroked his hair, her touch gentle. “A word of advice,” she said softly. “Regretting something doesn’t make you weak. Regret means you’re human.”

“I don’t regret him,” he whispered after a moment. “I regret some of the things I’ve done. But not him. I don’t regret standing by him. And if I have to die to keep him safe, that’s what I’m going to do.”

For the first time in months, Draco saw a smile on his mother’s face. A genuine, warm smile. “Well, I suppose you’ve grown more than I’m giving you credit for. Sometimes I still see you as that child, complaining about Harry Potter every time you came home from Hogwarts.”

“See, that I don’t regret, because he used to be an annoying git.”

“As were you, Draco.”

The two chuckled quietly.

“She was crying, you know,” Narcissa said after a while. “Pansy. She refused to leave your side and has been visiting every day. She’s a good person. I always thought you two would end up together.”

He scoffed. “She’s my best friend.”

“No, I realize now there was someone completely different you had in mind.”

He blushed. “I… better go to bed. I’m tired.”

With that, he scurried off to bed, a grin on his face, because his mother didn’t bat an eye at what he had said. She accepted him. She understood him. And that was all he really needed to feel happy.

***

Hermione was busy setting up everything necessary at their new location when she noticed Harry staring into space by the fire, his face blank. The two had been through a lot in the past few weeks, and she did not know where to begin. Something had clearly happened the last time he went to see Draco, but he wasn’t telling her.

“Alright,” she said as she sat down beside him, warming her hands up. “I think we should talk about what happened.”

Harry zoned back in, turning to look at Hermione. “What?”

She sighed. “Whatever happened with you and Draco. Let’s talk about it, because it’s clearly eating away at you,” she clarified, raising an eyebrow at him. The two stared at each other for a few moments. She turned to look at the fire. “Come on, Harry!”

“Alright, fine!” he gave in, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew it was unfair to keep her in the dark. “Voldemort found out about our relationship… to some degree-”

“What?!” She stood up, outraged. “And you didn’t think that maybe this was something you should’ve told me? Really, Harry, you can’t just hide these things! What if they came after us? We’re a team! God, I can’t believe you sometimes!” she paused, frowning. “You’re not interrupting me when I’m yelling at you. Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “He had to lie, say that he was working to gain my trust, and I had to pretend I found out so they won’t actually find us. I had to… use a spell on him. Sectumsempra. I think I really hurt him, ‘Mione. He was bleeding everywhere and… I wish things didn’t have to turn out that way.”

She quietened, a sad look on her face. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I know that would not have been easy. But, for God’s sake, Harry, please tell me things like this.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m just a fuck-up.” 

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears. “Don’t say that. I know things are difficult right now. Honestly… super difficult, but…” she couldn’t find the right words. “I know you’re trying your best.”

“I appreciate that, but…”

“No. We’re not going to continue moping about it, alright? I need to get over what happened with Ron, and you need to get over this. If we just sit here crying about it, it’s not going to help anyone. We have to get to work. We aren’t just on holiday.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this… isn’t quite the ideal holiday.”

“Oh, shut up, you know what I mean. Let me make some coffee and… I’ll grab the scissors. I think you need a trim.”

“Gee. Thanks. Very productive.”

Maybe it was because they both were going through their own emotional experiences with people they had feelings for, or maybe it was just because they were stuck in this situation together, but Harry felt that it was easier to be around Hermione now. They both didn’t have this sort of expectation to pretend things were okay, and just accept things as they were.

And quite honestly, Harry felt a little less alone to be going through it with Hermione. Although he still missed Draco and was hoping desperately that he was okay, he felt a little more at ease.

***

 Draco sat down at the same place he had been almost a week ago, Voldemort in front of him once again. This time there were a little more Death Eaters, but Draco was trying not to focus on that. Today, there was no Veritaserum involved, but somehow, it made him feel more anxious. 

Voldemort gave him a long, dark look. “What about the plan, Draco, was unclear to you?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t get a chance to even get a word out, because Voldemort had his wand to his neck, his stare cold and unwavering. “Tell me, Draco. Give me a reason to believe it was not you who warned Potter.”

“I… he attacked me-”

“No!” he yelled. “How did he find out? Did you grow soft for the boy, Draco? Did you feel guilt? Anguish? Tell me the truth. I won’t be mad.”

Well, that was an awful lie. Draco kept his facade, shaking his head. “I don’t know, my lord. I apologize. I know we were relying on this plan to finally get rid of him, but I sincerely do not know how he found out. Maybe it was through seeing your mind-”

“Are you blaming me, Draco?” Voldemort tilted his head. His face, Draco thought to himself, was severely unappealing to look at.

“No, that- that was not my intention, my lord,” Draco stuttered.

Voldemort turned to Pettigrew. “Get the Veritaserum. If I find out you are not telling the truth, Draco, consider yourself… well, you’ll see.”

“V…Veritaserum?” he asked, turning to his mother, who looked just surprised as he did. “I didn’t-”

“It was me,” a voice spoke up.

Draco turned to see Pansy emerge from the crowd. She had been in between some Death Eaters that were watching. Draco had warned her to not join or watch, because he was not sure how badly things would end. But of course, he should’ve known better. He had known her practically his whole life. 

“Pansy, don’t-”

She came up right beside the two of them. “I told Harry what you were planning, and that Draco was betraying him. That’s how he knew.” 

Voldemort folded his arms. “You are?”

“Pansy Parkinson. I was there to supervise Draco’s meetings with Potter just in case. I guess I felt bad for him. I mean, you all are a bunch of adults after a teenager-” she stopped talking when Voldemort turned his wand to her, her face growing pale. Draco stood up, fearing creeping up his chest. He couldn’t let her die.

“No, my lord!” Lucius said suddenly. “Don’t kill her.”

“And why shouldn’t I, Lucius?”

His eyes red, Lucius tried to smile slightly. “You… we can get information out of her.”

“I do not have the time for this,” he raised his hand to cast a spell.

“We shall do it, my lord,” Lucius blurted, panicking. “We will keep her here and try to get more information, perhaps on Potter’s whereabouts.”

Draco was surprised. He had not known his father to speak out, especially against the Dark Lord. For most of his life, if not entire, all he had learnt from his father was how to conform. How to conform to being a Malfoy, a Death Eater, a Pureblood wizard. As much as Lucius liked to believe Malfoys were leaders, they were nothing but cowardly followers. 

It was strange to see his father behave this way.

Draco led Pansy down to the dungeon. Once they were out of earshot, he turned to her, his eyes wide. “Are you mental? Why on earth were you there? You almost got yourself killed!”

“And let you die?” she folded her arms. “No can do, Draco.”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I don’t know how to repay-”

“This is a friendship, dickhead, not a transaction. I did it because I care about you. And I can’t stand to see you die. I saw you almost die last week. I don’t want to see it again. Besides… seeing you so selfless for Harry, it’s… almost inspiring.”

“If you weren’t behind those bars, I think I’d hug you,” Draco smiled at her. “Listen, I’ll let you out once they’ve all left, okay?”

She nodded.

Later that night, once Pansy had safely transferred to Draco’s room, where she would likely have to spend the next few months while pretending to be a prisoner in Malfoy Manor, Draco left to the kitchen to get themselves some food. He stopped when he noticed his father with a bottle of whiskey in the large kitchen by himself.

“Father,” he nodded. “I was just… getting food for myself…”

“Whatever it is,” he sighed, “just make sure Pansy is not found roaming the hallways freely.”

He chewed his lip. “If I may ask, father, why did you… do that? Save Pansy?”

Lucius turned to look at Draco, and for the first time, his face was empty. “Draco, I know I’m many things, but I’m not cruel enough to let someone innocent die. Especially someone who’s trying to save my own son from his reckless, idiotic mistakes. Why must I clean up after every stupid thing you do, Draco? You don’t deserve the Malfoy name.”

Draco scoffed as he picked up some snacks from the shelf, eyeing the nearly empty bottle of whiskey beside his father. He definitely would not remember what he was saying in the morning.

“And here I was, thinking that maybe for once, you were being a decent father.”

As he turned to leave, Lucius called out his name. He looked back for a moment, taken aback by Lucius’s apologetic expression.

“You want the truth?” he asked, slamming his glass on the counter, which shattered completely. “The truth is, I couldn’t let Pansy die because I have seen her grow up with you. I know you think I’ve been an absent father, and maybe for the most part, I have. But I still care for you, so don’t try to make me feel guilty for this.”

Draco tried not to let the sudden emotion his father was showing up waver his mind. He absorbed the words, then realized that… It meant nothing to hear that from him.

 “Fifteen years, father,” he shook his head. “I waited fifteen years for you to tell me that. That you care for me.”

Lucius blinked in confusion. “Fifteen? What happened after?”

He smiled slightly. “I found someone who made me realize I deserve better than the way you treat me.”

Then he left the room with his snacks, and even though his father would likely not remember the conversation, he felt like some sort of weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Draco realized Pansy was right. Harry had changed him. Helped him see things that he had been blind to. Helped him become someone he actually liked. And he absolutely couldn’t wait until he’d see Harry next, but for now, he knew that the time they were spending apart would be worth it. He would come back to Harry as a better person.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

As the sun went down, the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pink and orange. The crisp, cold air made Harry huddle further into his blanket. His nose was red and he could see his breath. He turned to fire, which didn’t seem to be helping him. 

Hermione emerged from the tent and trudged past the snow, sitting down beside him. She said nothing, simply staring at the fire, her expression blank.

“You should sleep,” Harry broke the silence. “You’ve been keeping watch the past two nights.”

She shook her head. “I can’t sleep,” her voice was soft and quiet. There was much that she wasn’t saying, and Harry wondered if it was worth delving into, for the sake of both of their emotional states and mental wellbeing. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

He blinked, zoning back into the moment, turning to look at Hermione. “I don’t know. I didn’t think he would actually leave. But… he’ll come back eventually. I hope,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Things are quiet without him.”

“Yeah,” she said, but there was no real agreement or emotion in her voice. She turned to him, studying his face. She was quiet for a long moment. “You did what needed to be done. With Draco.”

He avoided her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been selfish. Putting everyone in danger because of me. Especially you, Ron and Draco. And I just… it’s all getting super tiring.”

She frowned, then shook her head. “You’ve not been selfish. We just love you. And we’re… I’m fighting for what I believe in. None of this is on you, Harry. You didn’t choose this life.”

While it didn’t reassure him, he found comfort in her words. 

As the days passed, the situation became easier to cope with. Harry had ultimately decided that he would stop thinking how selfish he was being and instead try to utilize it to be one step ahead of Voldemort. The thought of Draco dying to the hands of the Dark Lord made his blood boil. 

When Ron had returned, Hermione didn’t say anything about it, but she was visibly more at ease. Harry realized the two probably found comfort in each other the same way he did with Draco, and felt a little idiotic for not noticing it sooner. He always could tell there was some odd tension between them, but it was never quite addressed, so he didn’t think about it much.

The days were long and painful, but they were making progress. Good progress. While there wasn’t a day where he didn’t think of Draco, he was trying to make the best of their situation, because after all, he was the Chosen One. He had a duty to fulfill.

A few months passed in a blur, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was because he was losing sense of time, or losing sense of reality. It was his first year away from Hogwarts since he had been eleven, and he would have never imagined it would be on these terms.

Another thing he had never imagined would be on different terms, was his first visit to Malfoy Manor.

He had always imagined he would be nervously pacing around Draco as they traveled to his home. Lucius Malfoy would be malicious and horrible, but Draco would squeeze his hand under the table while Narcissa welcomed Harry. And eventually, over time, maybe Draco’s father would come around, but none of that would matter, because for once, nothing would come in the middle of the two of them. Not terrifying nightmares that drew them apart, not certain Dark Lords that threatened to take over the entirety of the Wizarding World. And not Draco’s family. 

He imagined a wedding. Then finding a place to live. He imagined talking late into the night, early morning coffee, goodbye kisses and greetings, cuddling at night, unable to keep their hands off each other. 

Harry did not imagine being found and chased by Snatchers, only to be caught. 

As they were dragged down the large pathway that led up to the main doors of Malfoy Manor, Harry glanced over to Hermione, who was being dragged by the back of her coat. They made brief eye contact, and both of them knew whatever was in store next would not be anything good.

It would be easier to die here , Harry thought to himself, just before they entered. He wouldn’t have to face Draco, or Lucius, or any of the Death Eaters.

Draco was in his room reading a book when he heard them. There wasn’t a Death Eater meeting scheduled for another few weeks, so what was all the noise about? He shook his head, deciding he would stay in his room until the noise died down. 

“You think they’ll come here?” Pansy asked, her eyes fearful. She hadn’t been caught yet, but if it became known that she was walking around freely when she was meant to be a prisoner, things would take a dark turn. “Wasn’t there just a Death Eater meeting?”

“Yeah,” Draco answered. “I… should go check it out, I guess. But I don’t really want to.”

Pansy shrugged. “As long as none of them come here.”

Just then, the door opened quickly, and Narcissa came walking in. She shut the door behind her carefully, placing a silencing charm and locking the door. There was panic in her eyes as she stared at Draco, panting.

Draco shut his book at once, standing up. “Mother? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “The boy,” she said finally, trying to catch her breath. “They have a boy, but he’s- his face is swollen and deformed, so we need to figure out-”

“Mother, just calm down,” he went forward and gently touched her arms. “It can’t be that bad. We’ll get through it-”

“Harry Potter,” she shook her head. “They want you to identify whether he’s Harry Potter or not.”

Draco turned to look at Pansy. “Again?”

“Except-” Narcissa said, “I think it really is him.”

She had come in this way a few times in the past few months, asking Draco to identify Harry Potter. But none of them turned out to be him, so there was nothing really to worry about. Still, each time, there would be a small, dark feeling in his chest. And this time, that feeling was much larger than before.

“I’ll stay here with you,” Narcissa nodded towards Pansy. “Draco, you go straight there. They’re waiting on you.”

He tried not to let panic overtake him as he walked down the hallway. It wouldn’t be Harry, just like before. There was nothing to worry about.

Meanwhile, Harry stood on his knees in the middle of the room, trying to steady his breathing. There were all eyes on him, including Bellatrix, who seemed to be closely inspecting his every move.

Harry moved down to look at the floor, wondering if he would be able to escape in any way. He was surrounded and his friends were being restrained by a couple of Death Eaters. There was no way out.

“Ah, Draco, there you are,” said Lucius. Harry’s ears rang with panic. Lucius moved closer to Draco. “If we are the ones who hand over Potter to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven.”

“Now, we won’t be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?” said Greyback.

“Of course not, of course not!”

“What did you do to him?” asked Lucius as he took a small step forward.

“That wasn’t us.”

“Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me,” he was mumbling.

Harry looked up, meeting Draco’s eyes, and all Draco thought to himself was, fuck . Because it wasn’t a random brunet - it was Harry Potter, his face all messed up, but him all the same.

He hadn’t noticed Bellatrix creeping up behind him. “Go on, dear,” she whispered in his ear, “tell us. Tell us if it’s really the boy.”

Draco tried to keep his face straight, but it was hard to. It was obvious he was acting differently than before - he’d usually confidently identify that it was not Potter, but he didn’t know what to do now.

“I think it’s him,” Lucius folded his arms.

Draco took a step closer, leaning downwards to face him, his legs shaking as he met Harry’s eyes. Neither of them could tell what the other was thinking. Draco practically willed him not to speak, because if he did, it might be all over.

They stared at each other while everyone quietened down. Draco tried to look stoic as he straightened up again. “I don’t think so,” Draco sighed, trying to make his voice seem cocky. “The bloody Jinx is getting in the way, but it doesn’t seem likely.”

Harry was surprised by how well Draco was able to fit into the image of a Death Eater, and the personality of what people around him expected from him. 

“What about those two?” Bellatrix asked, pointing towards Ron and Hermione. 

Draco shrugged. “Not sure either.”

Lucius nodded. “Alright. We’ll take them downstairs-”

“Leave the Mudblood,” Bellatrix smirked slightly. “Take the other two.”

Lucius moved to grab the two, but Draco was quicker. “I’ll take care of it, Father, don’t worry,” he said quickly. He looked over to Hermione, who had a frightened expression on her face. It was the first time he had ever seen that from her.

Draco must have let his expression slip, because Lucius nudged him. “Take the men.” 

“Auntie,” he called out before he could stop himself. “I can take care of it. I’ll try to get information out of the three of them.”

Bellatrix seemed intrigued. “Are you sure you can handle all three of them, love?”

Draco snarled. “I know I can.”

With that, Bellatrix handed over Hermione too, a proud smile on her face. Draco walked with them until they were further away from the room, then shoved them. “Come on. Let’s go to my room.”

The four of them made a run four it down the hallway, Harry, Ron and Hermione trying to follow Draco the best they could.

He opened the door and quickly shut it behind Harry, who was last, and Draco quickly put a locking spell. 

Pansy stood up, clearly surprised. “So it was you guys!” she exclaimed, pushing her black hair behind her ears. She turned to look at Narcissa, who seemed mildly surprised.

“Mother,” Draco was panting, “I had no choice. I-”

“Draco,” she said gently, taking his hand. “I trust you made the right decision.” Narcissa turned to look at Harry, who was panting heavily. Harry met her gaze, and they stood in front of each other.

“Mrs. Malfoy-”

She pulled him into a hug, smiling. “I’m sorry we had to meet in such awful circumstances, Harry,” she said softly. She smelt flowery and Harry was reminded of comfort. He wondered when it was last he had been hugged with such meaning, such defenselessness, and he felt his eyes water. 

But everyone else in the room was staring at him, so he willed them to go away. When he stepped away from Narcissa, he turned to look at Draco.

“She knows,” Draco said, sounding relieved as he said it. “...that we’re friends, I mean.”

“Right,” Harry nodded. “Such good friends. Best friends, really.”

“Um,” Ron spoke up, “that’s hurtful, Harry.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Not the time,” she shook her head, then turned to Draco, panic clear in her face. “You took a huge risk there, but what do we do from here?”

Narcissa stepped forward. “There’s a secret passage no one knows about, except the residents of this Manor,” she said. “I have a blueprint in the library, it’s not far from here - just down the hallway.”

Hermione nodded. “Ron, come along. Harry…” she looked over at him, but he was staring at Draco, as if there was no one else in the room.

Pansy nudged her gently. “Let them have their moment.” 

Quietly, everyone slipped out of the room as Harry and Draco stayed put, unsure of what to say to each other. Harry stepped closer to Draco, warily, his body shaking. 

“This isn’t what I planned,” he whispered. “This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“I know,” Draco said quietly. “But things around here hardly ever go as planned.”

Before Harry knew it, he was reaching for Draco, barely collapsing in his arms, his body aching for his touch. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, and you know this,” Draco was saying. “Loving you is my choice. You are worth every risk, every wound, every ounce of pain. You are worth everything to me, Harry, and I will keep telling you that until you understand it. I should be sorry, for not being able to do more for you, for being a coward when you’re being so brave.”

Harry looked up into Draco’s silver eyes. Both him and his mother shared the same sort of frown that seemed to be filled with concern. Harry straightened his posture. He let Draco wipe away his tears before he leaned forward and kissed him on the lips ever so slightly. 

“I hope you realize how much you’ve helped me, Draco. Don’t be sorry,” he shook his head. Then he licked his lips nervously. “Let’s make a pact. We shouldn’t be spending our time apologizing to each other, alright?”

Draco nodded, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Not gelled,” Harry whispered, so quietly, he wasn’t sure if he even said it, as he gently ran his fingers through Draco’s hair, afraid he’d mess it up.

“Not gelled,” Draco confirmed, then kissed Harry again on the lips. Then his cheek, forehead, jaw, neck, as if he was trying to savor every little kiss. As if it would be their last. Before they got too carried away, Draco tried to snap out of it. “We should go join the others.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, not willing to let go of Draco, so he held onto his arm. “You told your mother?”

He smiled slightly. “I didn’t really have to. She figured it out on her own.”

As they entered the library, Narcissa and Hermione were discussing something. Harry felt his hearing aids’ volume lower slightly. They were slowly dying - he wondered when the last time he recharged it.

“Ah, good, you’re here,” Narcissa smiled at the two, her eyes moving down to their intertwined arms before she glanced back at the blueprints. “Most of the Death Eaters have probably left, but I can distract the remaining while you guys go to the entrance of the tunnel. It’s in the kitchen.”

“We’ll have to be quick,” Hermione nodded. “We have to be most careful of the elves. They could stop us and alert your father.”

“They’ll listen to me,” Draco said. “I’ll get them to step out of the way, so you can make a quick exit.”

“I’ll help you guys get there,” Pansy nodded.

“Okay. We better get moving now,” Hermione said. She, Harry, Ron and Pansy left the room. 

Draco lingered, turning to look at his mother. “I’m sorry, Mother. But there’s something I have to do.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Just… be safe, alright?” She kissed his forehead gently, and Draco wondered when was the last time she had done that. They left the room together, and Draco went to lead the group.

They all had hastily made it to the kitchen. Hearing loud shouts from the living room, they knew they didn’t have long. Draco used his wand to trigger the entrance and Hermione and Ron were quick to enter, but Harry hesitated. He turned around to look at Draco.

“I guess this is-”

Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and entered the tunnel, leaving both Pansy and Harry gaping at him. “We don’t have much time,” he said. “We need to go.”

“Draco, this isn’t the time to joke around,” Harry stated rather harshly. “I need to go.”

The blond looked at him with a deadpan expression. “Does it look like I’m joking to you, Harry?”

“But- I- You-” he spluttered. “It’s too dangerous, Draco!”

“I’ve made my choice. The choice I should’ve made long ago.” He turned. “Now, Pansy, you either shut that tunnel door behind us, or come along.”

Pansy was grinning as she hopped inside. “Fuck it. I’m sick of your house.” She ran past them to follow Hermione and Ron outside. 

Harry turned back to Draco. The shouts were getting closer. “You still have time to back out.”

Draco cast the spell to shut the tunnel behind them. “Never.” 

Hand in hand, they ran down the passageway, making it out to safety.

They had made it back to their base somehow without getting caught, but they had no time to waste because they had to move again so they wouldn’t be found again. 

After Apparating to someplace new, they still walked further to find a good place to settle for the night.

The journey was mostly silent, everyone was exhausted but mainly, they didn’t know what to say to each other. Pansy lingered behind Hermione and Ron, occasionally looking back to check on Draco and Harry.

The two, despite not speaking, had not let go of each others’ hands since they intertwined before. There was much to be said, or nothing at all, but all that would be done later. Right now, Harry needed to use his brain. What would be next? He had longed since the first day on the run for Draco to be with him, to be here by his side while he tried to fight. But now that it was real, he didn’t know what to do or say.

Hermione and Ron eventually came to a stop. “This place should be good,” she said. Her voice was quiet, delicate, as if she was afraid to speak. 

“Ron, let’s set it up,” Harry said. He looked up at Draco as he let go of his hand, as if to make sure he was still here. He smiled slightly, hoping it would convey what he needed it to. That he was thankful Draco had taken the risk; that he was so glad he was here with him, because it seems words were failing him. Eventually, he blurted, “Can I have your wand?” 

Draco nodded, handing it to him before he watched Harry move further towards the open area. After great consideration, he sat down on the dirt against the tree, looking down at his black trousers. He had practically nothing with him but his wand.

“Need help?” Pansy was asking Ron and Harry as she took out her wand, walking closer towards them.

Hermione, who seemed to be standing still, staring into space, slowly turned and sat down beside Draco. They watched the tent get set up silently. Draco didn’t know what to say to her. Maybe she was upset, because being here with them just increased their risk immensely of getting caught. Maybe she just didn’t trust him.

To his surprise, she turned to him, frowning as she usually did towards him when they met eyes in the hallways of Hogwarts. But back then, her frown was more malicious and spiteful. Right now, as she looked at him, she just looked sad, almost concerned.

“Thank you,” she said finally. “For saving me. Us. Back there.”

Draco nodded as if to acknowledge her words. “I did what I had to do.”

She looked over at Harry, who was smiling slightly as he talked to Ron and Pansy while putting up the protective enchantment. “You love him?” she asked warily, as if she didn’t trust his intentions. They both knew this wasn’t the best time to have the ‘I’m his best friend and I don’t like you’ conversation, but there was nothing else to do.

“More than anything in this entire universe,” Draco answered quietly. “You have every right to question my intentions right now, given that I’m a…” he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, and they both stared at his Dark Mark. “...However, please don’t question the love I have for him. Because that is endless.”

He moved to roll down his sleeve, grimacing from looking at it. She grabbed his arm gently.

“Don’t let that mark be a symbol of anything but your bravery,” she said finally. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You had no choice. It wasn’t something you could control. We… all do trust you.”

“You do?” he asked, slightly surprised to hear her say it.

“If I didn’t, you’d be dead, flowing down a river nearby,” Hermione smiled. “I trust the faith Harry has in you. Just… don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t,” Draco said, just as he watched the last little trickle of the enchantment reach the air, solidifying for a moment until it disappeared, following the wielder, which was Harry.

“All done!” Harry called out. “Who’s up for some dinner?”

Hermione and Draco shared a small smile, then stood up to join the rest of the group.

***

There were only a few beds, so Pansy and Hermione were the first to get sleep. Ron and Harry decided they would go to sleep on the floor after Draco had insisted he could keep watch for the night. They still hadn’t made a decision on what their next move would be, simply bringing Pansy and Draco up to speed about their findings and journey up till now.

After an hours’ worth of tossing, turning and listening to Ron’s soft snores, Harry decided he couldn’t sleep. Instead he walked as slowly and quietly as he could through the now dimly-lit tent. He made two cups of hot cocoa, hoping Hermione wouldn’t mind as she had rationed them perfectly, then found Draco just outside, in front of the fire.

He turned when he heard Harry. “Can’t sleep?” he asked as he took the cup from him gratefully.

“I hardly can these days,” he said. “It’s nice to see you in my clothes.”

Draco looked down at his maroon sweater and soft trousers. “They feel nice.”

“Really? No comment about missing your silk pajamas?”

“Silk pajamas wouldn’t keep me warm, so no,” he answered. “And really, you know me better to say something like that!”

“Hmm,” Harry grinned, sitting down beside him, looking out to the darkness. “What do we do from here?”

“I don’t know,” Draco said honestly. “We could go in search of the next Horcrux. I’ve heard some mutterings about it amongst my family. I could…” 

“Bellatrix seemed panicky,” Harry said suddenly. “Before you came. She found the Gryffindor’s Sword in our belongings and kept asking us if we had taken anything else from her vault. Do you think he trusts Bellatrix enough to safekeep a Horcrux?”

Draco nodded slowly. “I do. She’s extremely loyal to him.”

Harry sighed. “Okay. We’ll have to talk with the others in the morning. We can start with her vault.”

They stayed quiet for a moment. Harry set down his cup after finishing his drink.

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“Are you… okay?”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re at war, and I’m in the middle of it. I haven’t seen you in so long, and that’s what you’re going to ask me?”

Draco shakily set down his cup, pulling the blanket over himself and giving a part of it for Harry to share. “Then, can I ask… is it okay that I’m here? Would you prefer it if Pansy and I went back?”

He blinked in confusion. “Oh, God, no. Have I done anything to make you feel that I don’t want you around?”

“No,” Draco answered quickly. “It’s just… you seem spacey, and not quite in the moment. If me being here is too high of a risk, we can-”

Harry put his finger to Draco’s lips so he could quiet down, then stroked his soft cheek, grazing a thumb over his lips. “Can we forget about everything else just for a moment?” his voice was barely a whisper. “It’s just you and me right now. We won’t have many moments like this, you know.”

He smiled. He could smell the lingering hot cocoa on Harry’s lips, their foreheads touching. “We can forget,” he said simply. “Just for a moment.”

“A moment,” Harry shut his eyes, his lips finally touching Draco’s. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he answered. Then he said, “thank you.”

Harry gave him a confused smile. “What for?”

“Thank you for loving me,” Draco said. “I truly don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you.”

He wanted to reassure Draco, tell him that he was strong and capable. But he knew it wouldn't help him. Instead, he took a hold of Draco’s hand. “When this is all over, I want you to meet Molly and Arthur formally. They’re… they’ve taken such good care of me all these years, despite having so many children of their own.”

“I’d like that,” Draco whispered. “I want you to meet with my mother officially too.”

“Of course. She seems so amazing.”

“She’s the only reason I haven’t gone insane in that house,” he smiled, looking down at their intertwined hands. “So, Mr. Weasley. Is that who I’d have to ask for your hand in marriage?”

Harry, startled, dropped Draco’s hand suddenly. 

“Oh,” Draco said. “I was only joking. Don’t worry. I don’t-”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “You’ll have to ask Arthur. Whenever you do. Or I’ll ask your mother before you can ask him.”

“No way,” he grinned. “I’ll win him over.”

“Well, I’ve already seemed to win your mother over, so you’d have to be quick. Don’t forget about Hermione and Ron either. You’d need their permission too.”

Draco chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see,” he shook his head. They turned back to the fire, a comfortable silence enveloping them like a warm hug.

Harry did not remember falling asleep moments after, his exhaustion catching up to him. He didn’t remember Draco tucking him into bed. All he realized, when he woke up, was that it was the first night he hadn’t dreamed, the touch of Draco's lips still lingering on his mouth.

***

Pansy, Hermione, Ron and Draco were all murmuring amongst themselves just as the sun started to rise. Harry, glad to have a few hours of dreamless sleep, decided he should get up. He approached them slowly, taking his time.

They all turned and looked over to him when he entered, as if he had caught them talking about him.

“What?” he asked when no one spoke.

“We’re going to break into Bellatrix’s vault,” Hermione said. “Just… you know, we actually need her… face to get in.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

“Well,” she sighed, turning to the rest of the group. “We need a strand of her hair.”

He snorted. “Sure. Let’s just pop back to the manor and grab her hairbrush,” he said sarcastically, yawning before he grabbed a cup for coffee. He sat down on the free seat beside Draco. 

“Uh… well the thing is, Draco said he can-”

He looked around the group. “No?” he blurted, but it came out more like a question. “How on earth is he going to manage that?”

“He said he can come up with some way to sneak in. And if he gets caught, he’ll-”

“No. It’s too dangerous for him. We don’t know what they’re thinking. They might think he’s betrayed them and try to kill him.”

“I really would prefer if you guys wouldn’t speak as if I’m not here,” Draco spoke up finally.

Harry turned to look at him. “Okay,” he nodded. “I don’t want you to go.”

“It’s the only way we’re going to get somewhere. I’m positive there’s something in that vault that could help us,” Draco said. “Unless you have an alternative?”

Feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, Harry set down his empty cup, not having the chance to even pour himself a cup of coffee. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

--

Malfoy Manor during dinner time was usually bleak. The dark colored walls reminded Draco how many times he had walked down this hallway to the dinner hall. He wondered if he would ever be back to live here again.

He bumped into Harry right in front of him, who had come to a stop. “Ouch,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

“You better go in front of me, I don’t know where her room is.”

Draco groaned under his breath, then shuffled as quietly as possible in front of Harry, making sure the Invisibility Cloak was still on him. They turned left and down the hall was Bellatrix’s room, where she had been staying for the last few weeks. It was the wing far from Draco’s side of the manor.

They opened the door as quietly as they could. Draco shook the cloak off him when the coast was clear. “Keep watch,” he said, then walked over to her vanity, looking desperately for a hairbrush or any strand of hair that could’ve fallen.

Harry stood by the door, clutching Draco’s wand tightly. The wand didn’t feel like his, but it wasn’t resisting him. That was good enough for now.

“Anything?” Harry asked, turning around to look at Draco, who was now searching her bedside table. 

“Give me a second.”

“Cissy,” Bellatrix’s shrill voice echoed in the distance. “We should do everything we can to find Draco.”

“Draco!” Harry whisper-shouted.

“I need more time!” Draco answered.

“Don’t be so concerned, Bella,” Narcissa was saying calmly. Their voices were getting closer. “You should focus on the duties the Dark Lord has given you. Finding Draco will be mine and Lucius’ priority.”

“Don’t worry, Cissy, I will do everything to help you.”

“Draco-”

“Found it!” He held up a hairbrush. Harry moved forward as fast as he could, then grabbed Draco’s hand so they could Apparate away from there.

Harry nearly fell to his knees when they reached the tent again, his heart beating out of his chest. “God, that was horrible,” he said as he sat down. Beside him, Draco was trying to calm down too.

Ron stepped forward, looking at them hopefully. “Did you manage to get it?”

Draco held up the hairbrush. “We’re set.”

Hermione took it from him, and they all shared a smile. There was finally some hope.

Late April, or early May.

Draco often had these dreams, ones where he couldn’t quite make out what was really going on, mostly muffled voices drowning his ears. He’d always wake up to the sound of his mother whispering his name, or yelling it, he couldn’t quite tell.

There was an odd feeling to wake up to Harry right beside Draco, but it wasn’t as if he disliked it. He would often wake from his dream, look over at Harry, caress his cheeks with his delicate, bony fingers. It was only in times like these he could see the Harry he had known long before all this. The pain, the crimes, the war.

There was something so beautiful about Harry, something Draco couldn’t put into words. His little smile when he was watching someone talk, or frowning when he thought really hard about something. 

Losing Harry would be like losing a part of himself. A large part. Harry was so deeply intertwined into Draco’s soul that he couldn’t imagine a life where one lived and the other died. 

Being back at Hogwarts was surreal. There was utter chaos, people emerging from different rooms, running about, and Draco was in the middle of it all, standing in the hallway, unable to grasp what was happening.

He blinked, coming back to his senses when Harry grabbed his hand. 

“We better go. The Room of Requirement should be this way.”

“Back there? I thought we already got what we needed.” Draco stated. Harry only squeezed Draco’s hand thrice, who did it back as they walked down the hallways of Hogwarts.

When Draco had imagined walking down the hallway together, as allies, as lovers, he did not think it’d be this way.

Harry stood in front of the bare wall. “I’ll do it.”

Draco shrugged. He had never been perfect at summoning the room either way. He mostly just thought of Harry and it did the trick. He looked at Harry, who had barely made eye contact with him in the past few hours. He was going through something unimaginable, only told in stories. Draco couldn’t understand how he must be feeling, as much as he wanted to.

They walked inside the room Draco had grown more familiar with than his own bedroom, where they would spend time studying Wizarding Sign Language, helping Harry train, or just quietly studying their own subjects, enjoying each other’s company.

“Draco,” Harry said, stuttering slightly as if he was afraid to say his name. “We should talk about something before I leave.”

“Leave? Leave to…” Draco trailed off into silence, then shook his head, his heart suddenly racing. “Absolutely not, there is no way you’re going alone. I’ll come with you, I… I’ll go look for Hermione, and we can figure something out. I’ll-” 

Harry grabbed Draco’s hands. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I… understand it now. I understand why he can see my mind. Why I can see his mind, too. I think… I think I’ve known for a while. I suppose I was hoping I could hold out for a bit longer. Just a little.”

“You don’t mean…” Draco stared at him in disbelief. “It can’t be…”

“It’s me. I’m the last Horcrux. I need to be the one to end this. For the sake of the Wizarding World.”

Draco shook his head repeatedly, looking into Harry’s deep green eyes, so loving and happy, but not afraid. “You can’t.”

“Everything is at stake here,” he was saying softly. “You know it’s the right thing for me to do.” 

“I just…” he looked down. “Can we not be selfish just this once? Can’t we just…”

“I know,” Harry nodded, starting to sign the words. He could barely hear, his hearing aids were hanging on by a thread. But he didn’t want to let it go to waste. He wanted to hear Draco one last time. “I know. But we’ve been selfish already.”

Draco cupped his cheeks. “What about us?”

Hands trembling, Harry reached out and put his hand over Draco’s chest. “I’ll be with you. In here.”

“You’re cheesy.”

“You love me for it.”

Trying to laugh, a small cry escaped Draco’s mouth, and suddenly Harry was kissing him, gently, fervently, then he was pulling away. “We don’t have much time. But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad throughout everything, you were the one constant good thing in my life. I just wish we had more time.”

“I love you,” Draco signed, unable to speak.

“I love you too,” Harry replied out loud, running a hand through his dark hair. Then he leaned forward and kissed Draco again. They pulled away, one last time, and then they left the room. 

When they got to Hermione and Ron, who were waiting for them by the stairs, Harry had wiped his tears and greeted his best friends with a smile, who gave him one too.

“We thought… you went to the forest already,” Ron said, glancing at Draco as if to acknowledge his presence.

Harry’s smile faded. “I’m going there now.”

“Are you mad?” Ron scoffed. “No. You can’t do this, Harry. It’s impossible.”

Hermione was silent for a moment, squeezing Ron’s hand before she stepped in front of both Draco and Harry. “You’re just letting him?” she asked Draco, a frown on her face. It was less accusatory and more in disbelief.

Harry took Draco’s hand. “Leave him out of this.”

“I don’t… I can’t stop him,” Draco said, unable to meet Hermione’s eyes. His head was pounding, and there was this massive weight on his shoulders, one that made him feel like he was about to collapse at any moment. “It might be the only way.”

Realization dawned on her. “...what is it? Did you guys find something?”

Draco and Harry exchanged glances, neither of them willing to speak. Finally, Harry cleared his throat, adjusting the hearing aid in his ear. “There’s… a reason why he and I can see each other’s minds, Hermione. And why he’s desperate to have me killed. It all makes sense now.”

Hermione and Ron stood for a moment, confused, until… 

“Harry…” Ron pulled his best friend into a hug. “Don’t go. We can still… we can still try…”

Hermione was tearing up, and Draco took note that this was the first time he had ever seen her like this. And that only made the entire situation more real, more urgent. 

“I’ll go with you,” she said, her voice softer than Draco ever heard it. She looked destroyed. Her hair was a mess and she was bleeding at her mouth as she hugged him. “Draco, too. We’ll… we’ll figure it out together, Harry. Just give me more time. I know I can-”

Harry shook his head. “It’s going to be okay, Hermione. You guys should go kill the snake. And then… it’ll be just him left. It’ll be easy.”

Draco, who was now staring at the floor, almost jumped when Harry stood in front of him. “I love you,” he whispered. His voice was soft, quiet, but Draco was unable to look at him properly. “Please don’t be upset. We… were on borrowed time.”

Shaking his head, Draco kissed Harry’s hands. “I know I’m being unreasonable. This must be the hardest of all for you.”

Harry’s expression faltered for a moment, then he smiled. “If you had told me three years ago I would be standing in front of you, totally in love, I would’ve laughed in your face.”

“Yeah, well if you told me I’d be standing in front of you for the last time, I would’ve… I would’ve…” he sighed, his head aching too much to function. “Is it too late to ask you to stay?”

“I’m afraid I’m as stubborn as you are,” Harry smiled. Then he said, “I love you.”

The blond turned away, shutting his eyes, “I love you too. Now go before I stop you.” Harry walked past him, but Draco suddenly called out, “Harry.”

The brunet looked back at him, slightly concerned. “Are you going to tell me to stay?”

Draco laughed slightly. “No. I just wanted to tell you that… you are, and always will be, worth the risk.”

Harry smiled at him, leaving Draco wondering if that was the last time he’d ever see him. He wanted desperately to stop Harry, but there was something holding him back. Something in him that knew despite how much he hated this, he had no choice.

“He’s gone,” Hermione said. To Draco’s surprise, she put an arm around his shoulders, and even Ron seemed concerned about him. “Let’s go. Do as he’s asked. It’s the least we can do.”

Draco nodded, determination suddenly flooding him. “Yes. We’ll do that and more.”

When Harry woke, feeling strangely warm in his chest and the sky above him perfectly still, he could almost still hear Dumbledore’s voice echoing in his head. But now, here he was, barely able to comprehend what people around him were saying. Either they were whispering or Harry was going to have to fight this battle completely deaf.

His first thought was Draco. 

Staying perfectly still, facing away from Voldemort, he tried listening to what was going on.

“...he must…” Most of the words seemed to be just out of reach, just out of his capability to hear. “really… dead?”

“Go check.”

He shut his eyes when he felt someone stepping towards him. To his surprise, gentle fingers touched his neck, checking for a pulse. Her head moved closer after a moment. Then, she whispered, “...Draco… alive? Is he okay?”

Harry nodded slightly, his hearing aids starting to crackle and ring. 

Narcissa Malfoy stood tall, facing Voldemort, and nodded with certainty. “Dead.”

While being carried by Hagrid, Harry thought back to the moment just after he had been hit by the spell. His entire life flashed before his eyes - laughing with Hermione and Ron, meals at the Burrow, talking to Sirius and Remus, and even a small glimpse of his cousin and aunt.

And Draco. Sitting with him, sneaking around the hallways, gazing into his eyes. Just Draco Malfoy, being his. Having him.

Being somewhat content with going, or telling himself that he was, only to come back, was jarring, yet strangely serene. He hoped Draco was okay. That he had made it out alive.

In the courtyard, Draco stood beside Hermione and Ron, watching as Voldemort entered.

Draco couldn’t hide from the truth any longer, now that they were approaching. He loved a boy born to die, made only to fulfill an ill-fated prophecy. He had pushed it away for so long, because it hurt to think of. Harry was a pig raised for slaughter. Draco could feel his throat closing up. Everyone was looking at Voldemort, but Draco could only see Harry in Hagrid’s arms.

Heart pounding, Harry’s words echoed in his head. Be Voldemort’s follower first, and my boyfriend second. That was so long ago now. He remembered promising Harry he would. Funny how things turned out. 

“Draco, come,” Narcissa said gently, like she didn’t quite mean it. Draco looked at the Death Eaters, gulping. He turned to look at the man that murdered his lover. He could hear a few murmurs from the people behind him, but he kept his gaze on Voldemort now.

“Ah, Draco,” Voldemort said.

He stayed put for a moment, but then he saw his mother standing among the Death Eaters, a fresh wound on her face. Then the reluctance grew in him. Staying for Harry, or leaving for his mother. A dilemma he never wanted to face.

Pansy gently put a hand on his elbow. “You’re stronger than this,” she whispered. “Stronger than what they want you to be.”

“Draco,” Voldemort repeated, his tone slightly irritated now. “This is your last chance to prove you are indeed on the right side.”

“Whatever you choose, Draco, we trust you,” Hermione whispered.

Shaking off the paralyzing fear, Draco nodded at Hermione, then walked past the crowd, past people he had once called his classmates, people he had once insulted and looked down upon. 

Face to face with Voldemort, Draco straightened his posture. “I am on the right side ,” he said, taking his wand out. “The side that will defeat you. Now, Hermione!” 

Hermione raised her wand and cast a spell directed at Voldemort, who ducked just in time. Just then, Harry jumped off of Hagrid’s arms, and everyone let out cheers, all happy to see Harry. Draco looked over to see what the fuss was, and their eyes locked. 

Time stopped. People were starting to fight again, crying out, fighting for their lives. Just for a moment, though, all that seemed to slow down as they stared at each other, like they couldn’t quite believe it.

Almost hit by a spell, Draco ducked, then turned back to Harry, yelling out. “Catch, Potter!” 

Harry caught it flawlessly, grinning at his other half. “What about you?”

“Take mine, Draco!” Narcissa called out, throwing hers to her son, who caught it and gave her a grateful smile.

Draco approached Harry quickly, both holding out their new wands, both somewhat accepting them. “You’re okay?” he asked as he fought off spells from a few Death Eaters.

Harry shrugged, doing the same. “Only escaped death twice now.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

He shook his head, trying not to smile. “Hold them off, will you? I’ve got something to finish,” he said, taking off his dead hearing aids, walking towards Voldemort confidently. He was unsure who started the spell, and who was countering, but suddenly Harry and Voldemort were locked in a duel. 

Seconds turned into minutes as Draco tried to fight the Death Eaters while still keeping an eye on Harry. Being unable to hear people around him led him to a great disadvantage, Draco had to make sure that no one would try intercepting him. 

Then, suddenly, before his own eyes, Voldemort disintegrated. A quiet dawned over everyone, until… 

People were letting out deafening screams of victory, gathering around Harry. 

Pansy sidled up beside Draco, her clothes dirty and random cuts over her face, but she was grinning. “We did it.” 

***

The castle was quiet but full of people getting treated for their wounds. Draco hadn’t even realized that he had a lot until someone checked him. Looking around at all the dead bodies, he didn’t know how to feel. They had won, but at a great cost.

There was a quiet calm after the storm. As Draco walked down the halls earlier, he walked past his former classmates. Most of the Slytherins simply stared bitterly, but Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, and even Ravenclaws smiled at him. But now, to Draco, they weren’t Gryffindors or anything. They were just people. People who had fought for the same thing as he did. People he had fought on the same side with. And it was so comforting that he couldn’t quite believe it. He never thought he'd be able to feel that way.

He was deep in his thoughts, just beside Pansy who was sleeping, when Harry approached him. 

“Hey,” he said. 'Draco stood up too quickly, then clutched his stomach, where he had taken a hit. “Shit. Should probably take it easy.”

Harry nodded, reaching out and gently touching Draco’s arm as an attempt of comfort. “I, uh, lost my hearing aids. I’m sorry. I really cherished them.” 

“We’ll get you new ones.”

Harry looked over to the corner where Hermione and Ron were sitting, clutching each other’s hands, then turned back to Draco. “I… feel a bit stupid for not seeing that coming. I mean… I saw it. But I didn’t really register it?”

Draco laughed. “You should feel stupid. I’ve seen it coming since second year.” 

Beckoning for Draco to follow him, they both left the area and made their way outside, where the sun was shining. They were silent as they looked out at the view. When Draco looked at Harry, he was smiling. 

“We made it.”

Harry grabbed his hand and pulled him closer so they were right next to each other, their bodies touching. “We did.”

“Though I imagine-” Draco was cut off by Harry who put a finger to his lips.

“Hush now. We have plenty of worrying to do later. For now, I just want to stand here, with my boyfriend, enjoying the view.” 

Draco couldn’t help but smile. “I really thought I’d lose you this time.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Harry said, then added quietly, taking Draco’s hands, “I thought so too. I’m sorry for the pain I caused. But I just wanted to say my goodbyes, in case.”

“Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. And… I could tell you were afraid. Even if you tried to seem brave about it. Always have to add a Gryffindor flair to everything, don’t you?”

Harry smiled. “You know, I was almost put into Slytherin.”

Draco dropped his hands. “What? Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. But can you imagine how that could’ve gone? Probably horribly…” Harry shuddered, then looked up at Draco. “You know, you were great. Standing up to him, and your family, all for me. Thank you.”

“No more fighting,” Draco said, trying to hide his uncharacteristic blush by changing the subject. “No more sacrifices. From now on, I’m going to be the most selfish man ever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ve always held that title in my eyes- ow! Hey, this is the Chosen One you’re hitting here! Watch yourself!” Harry smacked him playfully, laughing, his eyes lighting up in a way Draco hadn’t seen in so long. 

As Harry tried to move away, Draco grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into a hug. He opened his mouth to speak, then remembered Harry wouldn’t be able to hear him, so he simply pulled him closer, trying to ignore his aching wound.

Pulling away from the hug, Harry looked into Draco’s eyes. “On a serious note, I’m yours, Draco Malfoy. Yours to keep, for however long you’ll have me.”

“Then, Harry Potter, you’re mine forever,” Draco whispered while signing. 

“How tragic,” Harry grinned.

“There’s the couple of the hour. Or day. Or decade, really,” Ron said as he approached them, his fingers still intertwined with Hermione. “Malfoy- Draco.”

“Ron,” Draco said, stepping away from Harry slightly, finding it strange to be saying his first name instead of his last.

“I’ll admit… you were great back there. You had our backs,” Ron said hesitantly. “So… a clean slate?” He held his hand out.

Draco smiled, shaking Ron’s hand. “Thank you. For giving me a chance. You too, Hermione.”

She was grinning. “Thank you. It must’ve been hard going against your family.”

Harry laughed slightly. “It’s weird to see you three getting along.”

“Imagine how we felt when we first heard about you two.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco shook his head. “I… dread my next visit home. If I can even call it that. My family… is not a reflection of who I should be, not anymore. But… whatever happens, I’m protecting my mother.”

Harry nodded. “Me, too. She’s the reason things worked out the way they did.”

Pansy approached the group. “Hey, why the long faces? We won. We should be partying,” she said. She had a sling on her right arm and her face was slightly swollen.

“No, you should be back at the infirmary, getting the right care!” Hermione exclaimed. “Honestly, Parkinson, we have a lot to consider before we can even think of celebrating our victory! Firstly-”

Pansy playfully shoved Hermione. “You’re such a nerd. Lighten up, will you? We need to celebrate. We didn’t spend weeks hiding out to not celebrate our victory.”

Harry chuckled as Pansy and Hermione argued about the logistics of a party, turning back to face the view, leaning against Draco who stood beside him, an arm around Harry. 

“Nothing has really changed, I guess.”

Draco sighed blissfully. “I’d argue that it has.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, because now I can be with you unconditionally.”

“You’re cheesy.”

“And I’m all yours,” Draco smiled, leaning forward and kissing Harry.

Harry James Potter hadn’t ever felt so nervous before. Not when greeting death, not when meeting face to face with Voldemort. It had been roughly six months since everything happened, and Harry was just glad to leave it all behind him.

His scar had not bothered him to the point he’d often forget he had it. His new hearing aids were on and he glanced at himself in the mirror, in his green sweater and corduroy trousers, and for the first time he liked what he saw. With a new independence he was still getting used to, Harry felt happier.

He waved his hands as if to shake off the nerves, turning to face Draco, who was still fixing up his shirt.

Draco didn’t even have to look. “It’s going to be okay. I had a long discussion with both of them. My father’s coming around. Besides, it’ll only be for a couple minutes. I just have to drop off their Christmas gifts.”

“Yes, but I don’t reckon you’ve told him…”

“He understands what you’ve done for him, Harry. He’ll be civil.” Walking over slowly, he put his hands on Harry’s cheeks. “And if he does something to hurt you or me, well… he knows. I’m cutting him off for good.”

“That’s easier said than done. He’s your family, he’s…”

“You’re my family. My father hasn’t taught me anything about caring for and loving someone. That was all you. I hope you realize that.”

“Your mother would be offended if she heard you right now.”

“Well, I hardly doubt she’d disagree…” Draco leaned forward and trailed kisses across Harry’s jawline. “Oh, please tell Molly I’ll be there for dinner this Saturday. I’ve taken off work.”

Harry moved towards the dresser, putting on his watch, laughing. “I can’t believe you were so nervous about meeting the Weasleys.”

“Of course I was! They’re your family! I couldn’t mess anything up.”

“Then you understand how I feel?” Harry asked, picking up his new wand. It had been a few months since he got it, and while the wand felt like his, it still was taking some getting used to. “Even if it’s only for a few minutes, I haven’t seen him since the hearing, and even then I didn’t speak to him properly.”

Draco wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “My mother loves you, and I really only care for her opinion.”

“Why doesn’t she leave him?”

He shrugged, his expression growing cold. “I’ve had countless conversations with her, but she said he’s changing. Apparently our conversation with him… along with his hearing at the court… helped. Seemingly. And… he hasn’t yelled at me, not since I yelled back.”

Harry squeezed his hand and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Alright… We better get going. Hermione will kill us if we don’t make it on time.”

Draco laughed. “I can already picture the rage on her face.”

They quickly Apparated to the front door of Malfoy Manor and Harry pulled his dark green knitted sweater closer to him, startled by the cold. After ringing the doorbell, the door opened and Draco was greeted by a comforting yet firm hug from his mother, who was smiling.

“Draco, my dear,” she whispered into his ear. Then she pulled away and turned. “Harry, it’s wonderful to see you.” She hugged him too, and Harry was slightly startled but hugged her back. She beckoned for the two to follow her inside.

Lucius Malfoy was seated in the drawing room stiffly in his chair, his face tired and his eyes faraway. 

“Lucius, Draco and Harry are here.”

He looked up, rising slowly from his seat. “Yes… hello, Draco. Potter… Harry Potter.”

“Hello!” Harry said a little too enthusiastically, awkwardly smiling. 

Draco smiled and stepped forward. “I just came to wish you both a Merry Christmas. I… have other plans on Christmas day.”

“Of course, as you wish, Draco. I understand your family is no longer a priority for you. Seeing as you’ve… decided your loyalties lie elsewhere.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was surprised to see Draco went forward and set the gifts down on the table calmly, glancing at his father with a cold yet fearless expression.

“Thank you for understanding, Father, because I do have my priorities sorted. And whatever pitiful things you may throw in my face to make me feel guilty isn’t going to change that.” 

“Lucius, please remember what Harry has done for you, and for this family. He saved you from going to Azkaban,” Narcissa spoke, her voice firm.

Shutting his eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe the situation, Lucius stepped forward towards Harry. “Right. I… suppose I owe you my gratitude…” he trailed off into silence, pausing for a moment. “Well… thank you.”

Harry smiled. “It’s no problem, Mr. Malfoy.”

They turned to leave, and Lucius spoke up once again. “If… you were able to join us for dinner sometime… it would be a pleasure. Both of you.”

Draco smiled, his eyes lighting up. “That… would be great, Father.”

***

“You’re late!” Hermione exclaimed, her glittery pink dress shimmering under the lights as she thrusted two champagne glasses into each of their hands. “You two! You’re half of the spotlight today! I told you to be early!”

Harry handed her a bouquet of flowers which she set aside after kindly acknowledging them. “Hermione, relax. We’re only twenty minutes late… because someone decided he needed to comb every single strand of his hair to perfection.”

“Says the one who got ready ten minutes before we had to leave for my parents’ home,” Draco retorted. “Cheers to my incredibly lazy fiancé.”

“And cheers to my incredibly meticulous fiancé.”

“You two…” Hermione glared at them, then suddenly pulled them into a hug, trying to hide the emotions on her face. “I’m so glad you two found each other. You’re so perfect for each other.”

“Mione, our drinks…” Harry said, but he found himself trying not to tear up. When she pulled away from the two of them, he looked down at the ring on his finger, still unable to understand that he was engaged to Draco Malfoy.

“There you two are… we had to start the party without you!” Ron said, shaking his head. “Hermione almost knocked a glass over out of stress.”

“Everyone! The other engaged couple is here!” Hermione announced. Pansy walked away from the drinks table and approached the group. “Pansy, that’s your third glass of wine. Switch to water.”

“You are so sweet,” Pansy ruffled her hair, avoiding Hermione’s smacks. “And so caring. And don’t be daft, this is whiskey.”

Hermione tried to hide her blush. “I’m not caring. Especially not to you. I just don’t want you to be a drunk mess, like what happened at the… Victory party, as you called it.”

“Uh… well,” Harry spoke, his voice going high pitched, avoiding eye contact with her.

“What?” She folded her arms.

Draco laughed. “What Harry is too awkward to say is… you were also a drunken mess that night. Actually, I don’t recall anyone who wasn’t. Harry was dancing, Hermione was singing loudly, Pansy was being Pansy… and I…”

Everyone dissolved into laughter while Draco tugged at his collar, his cheeks darkening.

“You stood on the table and yelled about how much you love Harry. And that you actually like gelling your hair sometimes,” Ron shook his head. “And then you had to convince Harry to not break up with you for it.”

Harry bit his lip. “For the record, I wouldn’t actually break up with you if you gelled your hair.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t good to lie, Harry.”

Everyone let out a groan. 

“Don’t fucking start, you two,” Pansy rolled her eyes, then hugged Harry. “So. Both couples are engaged. Who’s getting married first?”

“Well, this joint engagement party is out of the way,” Hermione straightened her back and took a sip of her wine, “I’ve carefully looked at any events that could possibly clash with Harry and Draco. A bridal shower is out of the question, which will be fine, however we possibly would need to discuss the venues-”

“Argh!” Pansy whined. “Why did I ask? My brain hurts now. I need another drink. You’re way too diligent.”

Ron put an arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her closer. “I find it endearing.”

Hermione, unsure of what to do, quickly kissed him on the cheek. Harry smiled, exchanging glances with Draco. He was happy to see his best friends in love with each other, especially now that everything was over.

“Oh, did you see the newspaper?” Pansy said. “The Boy Who Lived and a Malfoy… the Wizarding World is in chaos , and I find it quite hilarious.”

“It’s not,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’ve received so many letters requesting an interview about it. I’d understand if they wanted to know about the battle… but how am I supposed to tell them, ‘oh yeah, Harry and Draco snog about every five minutes’?”

“What?! We do not!” Draco protested.

Pansy sighed. “Please. That’s not even the worst part. It’s when you two start speaking all lovey-dovey with each other. It’s sickening.”

“I feel incredibly offended,” Harry replied. “I need another drink.”

Harry and Draco moved on to greet the other guests - Ginny and Luna were closeby and both congratulated the couple.

“Blaise, you made it!” Draco said, happy to see his friend. Squeezing Harry’s hand, he walked away to greet Blaise. 

Turning back to face Ginny and Luna, Harry smiled at them awkwardly. “So…”

“I never imagined you and Draco of all people would end up together,” Ginny smirked. “Though I want to know how you hid it for so long.”

“An invisibility cloak and the room of requirement,” Harry replied, shrugging. “It’s surprisingly easy to deceive people, especially when they wouldn’t think to see Draco and I hanging around each other.”

Luna smiled. “I figured you two would make your way to each other.”

Harry laughed. “Even I didn’t know things would turn out this way.”

“Well, either way, we’re happy for you,” Ginny said. “Just keep the snogging to a minimum. It’s enough having to see my brother and Hermione.”

“Please. If you find a way to get them to stop, tell me.”

The party went on, with a bunch of drinks, dinner and music. Hermione and Ron’s place was quaint but elegant, quite fitting for both of them. After everything they had been through, it was great that they were all finally okay. Finally at peace. 

A while later, Harry walked out to the balcony, where he could see a perfect view of the city, the gentle cold breeze grounding him. His hearing aids were out so everything was peaceful and quiet, just how he liked it sometimes.

He almost didn’t notice Draco stepping out, then moved to put on his hearing aids. “I was wondering where you went,” he said while signing, just in case Harry’s hearing aids weren’t on yet.

“Just needed a moment,” Harry answered, adjusting his aids in his ear.

“You don’t need to explain yourself.”

There was a serene silence between them. “You know, I wasn’t expecting your father to be so… welcoming? Despite that one comment.”

Draco let out a laugh. “Oh, trust me, me neither. My mother must’ve spoken to him. Merlin, she’s great. I’m so grateful for her.”

Harry smiled. “Sometimes I wonder how things would be if my parents were still around… I’d love for you to have met them.”

“I would have loved to,” Draco said softly. “I know it must be hard. But… you’ve been so strong, Harry, and I want you to know that… you don’t have to carry all this burden with you anymore.”

“Well, now most of the burden’s gone,” Harry laughed, putting a hand to the scar on his forehead.

“Yes, but you know what I mean. You’ve spent years trying to take everything on. And I don’t want you to do that to yourself anymore, whatever it may be. You have me. You’ve always had me. And you always… will have me.” 

“Thank you, Draco,” Harry kissed Draco on the cheek. “I suppose I didn’t want… anyone to get hurt on my account. And they did. So many did. Because of me. It’s a hard thing to carry, especially at a young age… but I’m getting better. And… the moment I defeated him… it was like this massive weight had been lifted off my shoulders. As if I had finally avenged everyone who had died because of him.” Harry let out a sigh, shaking his head. 

Draco took his hands and kissed them. “They’re all at peace now.”

“Onto brighter topics…” Harry looked away, wiping his eyes quickly and adjusting the glasses on his face. “I can’t wait to marry you. Can you believe it? My husband… Draco Malfoy.”

“And my husband… Harry Malfoy.”

Blinking in astonishment, Harry opened his mouth, but no words came out. “Oh. I… Um…”

Draco covered his mouth with his hand, but couldn’t hide his laughter. “Ah, you should’ve seen the look on your face! No, I’d never ask you to change your name.”

“How about Draco Potter?” Harry said, then shook his head, frowning. “No… it just doesn’t sound right…”

“How about Draco Malfoy-Potter? And Harry… Malfoy-Potter?”

Harry intertwined his fingers with Draco’s. “That… isn’t so bad. Actually… I love it.”

They stood there, a moment in silence, staring up at the starry sky. Harry couldn’t quite believe he was here, standing with the love of his life. And there was nothing stopping him from being with him. He looked over at Draco, placing his lips over his, a tender kiss that he hoped would communicate everything he was feeling.

And with the way Draco kissed him back, he could tell he felt the same.