He Is All Palindrome

He is all palindrome

and Icarus

and I can’t tell who’s waxy wings are melting

think this future is one I’ll fall behind

all spiral and

saffron silhouette and

solar flare

when he looks at me I see warning signs

all brilliant burning

and charcoal horizon

If he was a color she would paint him across her mouth like lipstick. I watch as she wears him flaming crimson against her smile. He hangs across her collarbones delicate as a ruby necklace or the scarlet imprint of fingertips before they bruise. His body against hers feels like tripping over a cement curb, he tastes like my cherry chapstick mingled with the blood of her split lip. Given the choice we would both scald our throats just to hold his embers at the base of our stomach. When late at night she texts me a sucker punch of sorry I picture him stained across her skin like wine

Draco pulled the bottle toward him and Harry watched as large pale hands wrapped tightly around the dark glass neck. Draco’s lips came together at the bottle top and he tipped his head back closing his eyes tight. As he gulped the sweet liquid down, his throat undulated in the firelight. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about reaching one of his hands out and feeling the way it moved.

“You want some?” Draco said huskily, pushing the bottle into his hand.

“Yes.” Harry placed his lips over the ghost of Draco’s own. He kept his eyes open as he drank. He watched as Draco’s cheeks went pale and his pupils dilated. He finished drinking and set the bottle down on the carpet. He was about to turn back to Draco, continue to lose himself in Draco’s eyes when he looked back at the rest of the group and noticed Blaise watching them.

One of my fav excerpts from my new fic Infiltrate the Slytherins

Falling

Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles 

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35413789

Summary: Louis has avidly avoided listening to Harry’s new album for so long and now it’s chosen to ambush him in a grocery store.

TW: blood, injury, alcohol abuse

They were about 10 minutes into making dinner when it all started to go awry. First Ben noticed that there was no meat for the burger patties. Then about three minutes later Louis noticed they were out of cabbage for the coleslaw as well. Niall offered to run to the store, it was late enough at night that there shouldn't be too many fans he argued. But Niall had brought all the groceries they had in the first place and Louis felt horrible sending him off to the grocery store a second time. So Louis had grabbed a black beanie and some dark sunglasses and hopped in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~

Louis stands in the fluorescent lights of the grocery store staring down at the bright green cabbages. He picks up a medium sized cabbage and is rolling it in his hands to check for blemishes when his concentration is broken by the sound of a voice. Freezing in his tracks Louis lowers the cabbage back into its place and grips the handle of his shopping basket so hard his knuckles turn white. He quickly looks up above him and just as he suspected he sees a speaker.

“Fuck” he swears out-loud before looking side to side to make sure no one actually heard him talk to himself in a grocery store.

He’s avidly avoided listening to Harry’s album for so long and now it’s chosen to ambush him in a grocery store? He honestly should have expected as much. The store is quiet and Louis can hear the lyrics quite well. He knows he should put his basket down and leave immediately. He knows this could throw him into a spiral that could last weeks and yet he can’t help himself. He turns towards the vegetables and spaces out.

Harry’s voice immediately spikes a visceral reaction in him. He can feel an ache tugging at the center of his stomach right below his navel and god he misses him so much. Then the lyrics start to sink in.

He listens as Harry describes the way a drink and his wandering hands have ruined a love he once held dear and Louis' heart drops to his stomach. He suddenly feels nauseous. He’s not ready for this. He doesn’t want to hear Harry’s apology after all these years standing in an empty grocery store watching passerby in the mirror over the vegetables. He turns to go a second time but again is stopped by the pure desperation in Harry’s voice as he asks plaintively “What if I’m someone I don’t want around?”

Suddenly it’s all too much and Louis feels his breath start to quicken in his chest. He looks down at his clenched knuckles. Tries to focus on the tile of the floor beneath his feet but he can’t stop listening, can’t tear himself away and suddenly the floor starts to look exactly like the tile in his old house and he’s back 3 years.

~~~~~~

Louis wakes up tangled in the white sheets of his bed as if he has been thrashing about all night. As he peels his eyes open it takes him a couple seconds to get grounded before his heart clutches in his chest as he realizes the pillow beside him is ice cold. He wonders if Harry even bothered to come home last night or if he’s passed out in the throes of whatever party he refused to miss last night.

Last week when Harry had gone missing like this Louis had found him in the bushes by Niall's house, his clothes ripped and dirty. It had taken hours of searching to find him so by the time Niall called to let him know Harry was safe he had already forgiven him.

This tends to be the pattern. Louis and Harry fight. Harry runs off to whatever party is the craziest or the most packed. Louis worries until past midnight shaking until he finally falls asleep. Harry disappears. Louis worries too much. Harry gets found and Louis forgives him.

Louis thinks he forgives too easily. He thinks if he just was firmer with Harry. If he just told him how worried he is maybe things would be okay. But it’s hard to be honest when you're terrified. And the way Harry’s been acting lately terrifies him.

Louis shakes his head to clear his thoughts, pushing himself out of bed and grabbing some running clothes. He’s angry enough at Harry for disappearing again that he figures he’ll go on a run before unearthing his body. He needs to have a clear head before he speaks to Harry again and running helps. He shoves his shirt over his head hurriedly before padding downstairs to find some clean socks and shoes.

It isn’t till Louis reaches the bottom of the stairs that he realizes something is wrong. When he looks towards the kitchen he notices that the light is on. He definitely remembers turning it off last night. Relieved he realizes that Harry must have come home after all.

“Harry?” He calls tentatively not wanting to startle him. He waits a couple seconds but doesn’t get a response so he pushes his way through the kitchen door.

The sight that greets him leaves him frozen in shock.

The first thing he sees is Harry’s body strewn limp and pale across the hard tile floor. Then he notices the curle of blood pooling out from Harry's left hand, stark red against the white tile like a wine stain. The sight of blood shocks Louis into action and he scrambles across the floor towards the unresponsive boy in front of him.

He calls Harry’s name several times lightly hitting his face trying to wake him up before remembering to check his pulse. As Louis reaches for Harry’s right hand to find a pulse he slips in the blood on the floor and clumsily crashes against his chest. When his head lands on Harry’s chest he breathes a sigh of relief as he hears a heartbeat in his ear.

“You really scared me this time Haz” He whispers before righting himself and reaching for the cellphone in his pocket.

He calls Niall because no one else knows about how they find Harry every other morning. Niall answers the phone with a slightly frantic hello as if he already knows the news that's waiting for him. At first Louis can only breath across the line, the shock in his system intermingling with the relief of company.

“Louis? What is it? Is Harry with you?” Niall barks bringing Louis back to reality.

Louis answers, willing his voice not to shake with every bone in his body. “Niall, he’s with me but he’s not responsive. He has a pulse but he’s covered in blood. I found him on the floor of our kitchen. I don’t know what to do, do I call an ambulance?” He rushes glancing around the kitchen trying to take stock of what has actually happened. He sees a half empty bottle of whisky on the countertop with its lid off and as his gaze drifts to the floor he notices glass shards scattered around him. Looking down at himself he realizes he’s kneeling on the shards and he watches as dark inky blood starts to well from scratches on his knees. He realizes he can’t feel the cuts, his whole body filled with a bone deep numbness.

“Alright Louis, it’s okay. Take some deep breaths.” Niall’s the level headed one. Louis has always known that. “Stay next to him and try to wake him up. Maybe splash some cold water on his face” Niall continues. Louis follows his directions robotically filling a glass at the tap and walking across the glass strewn floor back to Harry. He dumps the water across him but Harry gives him no response.

“He's not responding, I don't know what to do” He tells Niall, voice weak and shaking.

“Okay sit tight and stay with him” Niall commands in a gentle voice. “I’m calling 911 and then I’ll drive over to be with you while you wait for them to arrive”

Louis breathes out full of immense gratitude and listens to the click as Niall hangs up the phone.

After that he gets lost in the blur of things. Niall arrives, he remembers hugging him sitting with Harry's body. The paramedics arrive loud and colorful. Louis can’t understand how they’re so calm, so collected, when his Harry is still laying sprawled out pale and unresponsive before them. The paramedics ask him questions he can’t answer while they move Harry to a stretcher. Niall leaves in the ambulance. Louis does not, he’s volunteered to grab Harry clothes and meet them at the hospital.

As the ambulance pulls out of his driveway he's left shaking bleeding from his knees into the pool of Harry’s blood in front of him. It takes him minutes to move to a standing position and inch backwards out of the kitchen. When he looks behind him, he is transfixed by his bloody footprints trailing across the previously pristine floor.

~~~~~

“Um excuse me?” Louis jumps as he hears an unfamiliar voice directly to his left.

“Sorry, just could you move? I need to grab one of those cabbages.” He turns eyes wide and frightened to see an old woman gesturing to the vegetables in front of him.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He’s fine. He’s in a grocery store. Harry’s okay, they’re just not on speaking terms. Louis' body is still shaking and he finds it hard to catch his breath so he pushes past the women and moves to the front of the store.

When he reaches the door he finds it difficult to pry the shopping basket from his grasp; his fingers feel frozen and numb, like they don’t belong to him anymore.

Louis loves his work. He loves the gentle buzz of the tattoo gun in his hand, the way it goes slightly warm after a long session and heats his hands like it's alive. He loves the adrenaline of piercing skin, the trust that comes with marking someone permanently. 

So, on Friday morning when he’s been open three hours and the shop is still completely empty he’s disappointed. Lately his work has developed quite a fan base and, though he’s often too humble to admit it, it's been a long time since the shop was empty on walk-in day. 

It must be the god awful weather he thinks, signing, as he looks out the long windows at the front of the shop. He watches as rain and sleet pour onto the empty streets outside. There isn’t a single person in sight. 

Dejected Louis moves back to the front desk. Situating his feet as close to the small space heater as he can get he leans over the tall wooden desk and goes back to work sketching a design he’s promised to one of next week’s clients. They'd requested an anchor and Louis had had to pretend to sneeze in order to keep them from noticing his eye roll.

 It’s just that anchors are so overdone he thinks, as he forces his pen down onto the paper in front of him. He attempts to draw with some of his original flair but it’s a little hard when he’s so frustrated in the piece in front of him. Recently he’s well enough off that he could have turned away a client like this but the man had said he was a friend of Stan’s dad and Louis had immediately felt too guilty to send him away. 

Louis furrows his brow and tries to keep his frustration from distracting him for his work. He’s finally getting to the groove when the bell on the front door tinkles. 

Louis flinches at the unexpected noise fumbling with his pen and almost dropping it. When he gets himself under control he looks up to see a tall man standing in the entryway of his shop. The man looks like he’s lost a fight with the storm, he’s dripping water onto the shiny wood floor beneath his feet and his coat looks soaked through. The hood of his coat is pulled up but it looks like it’s done little good because the strands of brownish hair peeking out are soaked through and cling to the stranger's forehead. His appearance is completely normal given the state of the weather outside yet something about him seems sort of… off. Louis can’t quite place it. 

“Welcome to Elysium! How can I help you?” Louis calls to  him using his best customer service voice. 

“Elysium?” The man asks as he moves towards the front desk. Louis looks up to meet his eyes before realizing that he can’t because the man is wearing dark sunglasses. Aha! So, that had been what seemed so weird about his appearance. Who wears sunglasses on a rainy day? Louis wonders, before coaching his face neutral.

Infiltrate the Slytherins

(Complete, words: 8.9k)

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley

Summary: Ron & Blaise started a liquor business. Blaise moved in. Slytherins took over the sitting room. Harry didn't know how to feel about any of it.

Read on ao3

TW: drinking & implied cheating

Blaise Zabini moved in with them on a dark rainy night.

The day had started sunny with just a touch of clouds but by the afternoon there were storm warnings and the wind had started to pick up forebodingly. The rain had started by nightfall and Harry heard the first clap of thunder approximately fifteen minutes before Blaise’s knock sounded at the door.

Harry watched Ron carry one of Blaise’s dripping suitcases up the stairs of Grimmauld Place and thought about how fitting the weather is. After all, nothing good could come of a Zabini living under his roof.

“Can you help me with this one mate?” Ron yelled cheerfully from halfway up the stairs where he was pinning the suitcase to the wall and clearly struggling to keep it from slipping out of his grip.

Harry ran to assist him because no matter how cranky he was he couldn’t quite bring himself to not help Ron.

Of course, that’s what got him into this whole mess wasn’t it.

~~~~~~~~~

When Ron had quit auror training Harry had been disappointed but not surprised.

They’d all lost pieces of themselves in the war but Harry and Hermione knew that Ron had been affected the most. Not that they talked about it or anything but through sad shared glances it had become apparent that they had both realized it.

They watched the way auror training affected Ron. Harry was invigorated when he hunted down criminals. He’d return to the offices with flushed cheeks and bright eyes eager to start another chase. Hermione was fascinated with the mystery of it all, she’d lose herself in case notes flipping through them so quickly she often dropped them in her scramble to unwind the stories they held. But Ron withdrew. He’s come back from closed cases quiet with weary eyes. He started to have more nightmares and his temper got shorter and shorter.

In some ways Harry had been relieved when one night after about three glasses of wine Ron had looked across the table with a grimace and announced quietly, “I’m quitting.”

It had taken Harry longer than it should have to figure out what exactly Ron was referring to quitting and by the time he finally put it together Hermione was already across the table enveloping Ron in a tight hug. She whispered softly in his ear and when she pulled back there was a tentative smile pushing its way across Ron's face.

“Guess I’m going to have to find someone else to partner with after training finishes.” Harry exclaimed ruefully pulling Ron into his own long hug.

“I guess.” Ron responded by clapping him on the back and looking relieved.

Harry had sighed, asked Ron if he would be helping George at the joke shop now and thought that would be the end of things.

Of course it wasn’t.

If Harry wasn’t so busy with training he probably would have predicted that the joke shop wouldn’t hold Ron’s attention for long but he was pulling 12 hour scut shifts at the ministry. So, he didn’t even notice when Ron started meeting Blaise Zabini for coffee multiple times a week. In fact, he wasn’t even aware Ron had talked to Blaise since their time at Hogwarts.

Harry’s ignorance of Ron’s blossoming friendship with Blaise quickly came to an end over breakfast one Saturday.

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it but I’ve sort of um been becoming friends with Blaise.” Ron had muttered as he buttered his toast. Harry watched as the tips of his ears turned a dark pinkish color.

“Friends with who?” He hadn’t really heard what Ron said. He was too focused making perfectly round pancakes on his brand new griddle.

“Blaise Zabini?” Ron was avoiding his eyes.

“What?” Harry asked again, unable to comprehend what Ron was telling him.

“I'm friends with Blaise Zabini.” Ron had exploded, meeting Harry’s eyes defiantly. “And we’re starting a firewhisky company.”

“What?!”

“Can you stop saying that?” Ron retorted. “It’s not that crazy. He’s a pretty cool person.”

Harry thought it was definitely that crazy. In fact, he later described this turn of events to Ginny, who was his new auror partner, as insane. They had decided that this was probably just a lapse of judgement on Ron’s part and that the idea would quickly fizzle out.

It had been quite shocking when, four months later, they received an invitation to the grand opening of Weasley & Zabini Liquors.

After that Blaise Zabini only continued to worm his way into Harry’s life. Harry often came home from his long shifts to find Blaise spread languidly across his sofa waxing poetic about the reception of the Weasley & Zabini brand and planning new liquor flavors with Ron. Harry found it highly annoying and it often took all of his strength to avoid kicking Blaise out of his house all together.

Now Blaise had moved in and it was all Ron’s fault.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you all for a bit.” Blaise said as he stepped over the threshold of the front door and used his wand to vanish the wetness from his clothes.

“Don’t worry about it mate, couldn’t leave you homeless now could we?” Ron offered him an easy smile and pulled him into a hug.

Harry scowled. He usually encouraged Hermione and Ron to act as if his house is their own but this was the one time he would have liked to feel like his property rights have been properly acknowledged.

“How are you Blaise? I heard about the fire from Ron. It must have been so frightening.” Hermione rushed to Zanibi’s side helping him with his robes.

“Oh don’t worry about me, us Zabini’s are very resilient.”

Harry watched as he winked across at Hermione. He found himself once again irritated by Zabini’s ability to flirt in any situation. He often wondered if Ron was bothered by the way Blaise constantly flirted with his girlfriend. When he had asked Ron about it he had shrugged and said Zabini flirted with everyone. It was true but the flirting still bothered Harry, he didn’t see why it wouldn't bother Ron too.

~~~~~~~~~

Living with Zabini turned out to be even more annoying than Harry had predicted. Blaise liked to swan around the house in a brocade dressing gown in the mornings and he drank breakfast tea constantly at all hours of the day. He never remembered to buy more tea and so Harry consistently had to go without tea in the mornings. One morning Harry had had enough.

“Blaise, I need you to stop drinking all of my tea.” He said tersely. He was standing on a stool and searching the highest kitchen cabinet blindly with his hand hoping he would magically encounter a fresh box of tea.

“I’m sorry I thought it was mine.” Blaise responded casually, continuing to read his newspaper.

“Why would it be your tea? This isn’t even your house!” Harry hissed back at him tipping precariously on his stool.

“Usually people try to make their house comfortable for their guests.” Blaise informed him with a waive of his hand. “They do that by stocking up on their favorite products and such. But I guess I forgot you were raised by heathens and wouldn’t know to do such a thing.”

Harry scoffed, pulling his hand out of the cabinet and giving up on his search. “Oh because your upbringing was so much better than mine.”

“At least I know how to treat my house guests.” Blaise responded haughtily.

“You're just lucky I’m even letting you stay here.” Harry growled back sitting down to eat his toast. He picked up his own newspaper and glowerd over it at Blaise.

Harry and Blaise were in the middle of what was shaping up to be a truly admirable glower-fest when Draco Malfoy walked into the kitchen.

Harry startled dramatically, almost dropping his newspaper.

“Well hello Potter!” Draco said cheerfully, helping himself to a sip of Blaise’s tea. “Fancy seeing you here”

“How did you get in here?” Harry retorted.

“Oh I spent the night.” Draco responded conversationally. “Blaise here just can’t get enough of my company.” He sidled over to Blaise draping his pale slender arm over Blaise's strong square shoulders and leaning in.

Harry's cheeks flamed. He wondered what sixth year Harry would think about the idea of Blaise and Draco sleeping together in one of his bedrooms. For some reason he didn't find himself as repulsed by the idea as he would have been at 16.

“Oh.” He said simply at loss for a better response. He focused back on his newspaper and studiously ignored the way Draco’s body curved against Blaise. He hadn’t expected Slytherins to be such a cuddly bunch. Somehow watching them made him feel lonely.

~~~~~~~~~

Living with Blaise ended up not being as completely terrible as he expected. Once Blaise stopped stealing his tea every morning Harry started to warm up to him more. Being cordial with Blaise was really quite easy because for the most part Harry barely saw him. Now that auror training was over he and Ginny were working tirelessly day and night to apprehend criminals and get promoted to the more interesting cases. Usually by the time he got home from his long shifts he barely had enough energy to mumble a quick hello to whatever Slytherins Blaise had invited over before excusing himself to his rooms and sleeping like the dead for as many hours as possible.

Whenever he did see the Slytherins he couldn’t quite keep himself from watching them. They all moved with a quick confidence that he found himself envious of and they never stopped touching each other. It seemed almost like they were unaware of the social expectation of physical space. Most often he came across them wrapped around each other like a litter of puppies sprawled across the large leather couch in his sitting room. The fire in the hearth would spill a golden glow over their skin; it made them look beautiful and a little uncanny. Harry noticed that Draco liked to card his hands through Pansy’s dark curls and that everyone was always asking Theo to give them back-rubs. Sometimes Hermione and Ron were even there relaxing in the warmth of the hearth. Harry never joined them.

Occasionally after walking through the sitting room and mumbling his hello’s Harry found himself lying awake wondering what it would be like to have Draco’s delicate pale fingertips palpate his scalp and straighten his dark curls. He wondered what it would be like for Theo to rub the tight knots out of his overworked back. He dismissed these thoughts to exhaustion induced insanity and focused on forcing himself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The careful pattern that Harry had established with the Slytherins was blown to smithereens the day Ginny got injured.

It wasn’t a big injury, just some dissolved bones in her left arm but St. Mungos had given her the rest of the day off to re-grow her bones. She’d promised the flat to Luna who planned to invite a date over later that night and so she had nowhere to go. It was only natural that Harry invited her back to her flat.

They arrived home to find the Slytherins sprawled out in the sitting room as usual, siping elven wine. Harry was quite suspicious that they had taken the wine from his cellar. As he walked through the room he was so busy wondering whether to say something about the wine that he didn’t notice that Ginny had plopped herself down on the carpet in front of the fireplace.

“Where are you going, Harry?” She yelled out, catching his attention.

“Oh I um, don’t usually hang out in the sitting room.” Harry responded awkwardly, shuffling back into the room.

“We’ve been wondering about that.” Blaise added casually. “What is it? Are you afraid we might corrupt you?”

“Of course not.” Harry replied flatly. Then he realized it might be hard to explain that he avoided the Slytherins because he found them so beautiful it was uncanny. “I mean um. Maybe?” He could tell Blaise didn’t believe him.

“Alright then Potter. How about you sit down with us? Come on. Face your fears.” Blaise’s tone was falsely jovial. Harry figured it was probably because he was acting weird. The problem was he didn’t know how to act normally around the Slytherins.

“Um okay.” He responded nervously, perching on the floor beside Ginny.

“So, how about sharing some of that wine you nicked from Harry’s cellars.” Ginny called across to the Slytherins grinning at them with her teeth bared.

Harry watched as Pansy casually reached over Blaise’s lap to retrieve the wine bottle. “Of course Ginny, you only had to ask.” She responded grinning back at her in a similarly aggressive manner.

“Thanks.” Ginny replied, her mouth softening a bit at the edges.

She gulped the dark red wine straight from the bottle before passing it over to Harry. He clasped the green bottle in his hands thinking about how strange it was to feel like an outsider in his own home. He traced the curve of the bottle with his tanned callused fingers and thought about all the soft golden fingertips it had felt that night. The thought of all those hands left him feeling inadequate.

Pulling the rim to his lips he tipped his head back and gulped several mouthfuls of the sticky sweet wine. When he finished he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked up directly into Draco’s beautiful grey eyes.

Ugh, he corrected himself, shaking his head to clear it. Not beautiful. Ugly eyes. Hard and cold like concrete.

“You alright Harry?” Draco sounded amused. He continued to pin Harry in his gaze.

“Oh I’m fine.” Harry attempted to make his voice sound smooth and confident like Draco’s always did. It didn’t work. He’d gotten some wine down his windpipe. He started coughing.

“Are you sure about that?” Draco was smirking at him.

“I’m sure.” He gasped for breath as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

“You don’t look very sure mate.” Theo commented from the closer side of the couch.

Harry tried to smile back at him in an assuring way but his smile came out as more of a grimace.

Then suddenly Theo was scooting off of the coach and onto the floor next to him. Harry felt a strong warm hand move to his shoulder blades and then Theo whispered “prohibere tussis.”

A warm rush filled Harry’s chest and suddenly he wasn’t choking anymore. “Where’d you learn that spell?” He questioned curiously leaning in a little to the warmth of Theo’s hand.

“Oh, Adrian’s always had asthma so it was an essential spell for all of us to learn.” Theo explained without removing his hand from Harry's back. Harry couldn’t quite bring himself to shrug it away.

After that the tension in the room started to dissipate. Ginny took Theo’s spot on the sofa and leaned into Pansy’s shoulder. Harry watched in shock as Pansy started to finger comb through Ginny’s shiny locks. As the firelight caught on her hair it glowed red against the golden skin around her.

Harry continued to drink wine from the bottle, the room around him started to go pleasantly blurry, the tension in his stomach dissipated. Blaise started to tell a long rambling story about one of his and Ron’s customers. Harry let himself laugh in all the right places. He started to lean into Theo’s side. Theo let him.

Harry wondered if it was really that easy to infiltrate the Slytherins. He wondered why he hadn’t tried doing it earlier.

Every once in a while he looked up and found grey eyes watching him, tracking his movements. When Draco had watched him like that in school it had made him feel uneasy and like he wanted to hit something. Now he found it just felt comforting. Probably because he’d gotten so used to it he mused, meeting Draco’s eyes directly and sending him a small smile.

Draco immediately dropped his head appearing to concentrate hard on the brown shag rug Harry perched on. Harry wondered what could be so important about a rug. Maybe Draco was trying to become an interior designer. A giggle caught in his throat. He looked up to see if Draco had noticed the sound and found him still focused intently on the floor. Suddenly Harry found himself wanting to be closer to Draco. So close that Draco couldn’t ignore him. Because who was Draco to ignore him anyways?

Harry forced himself away from the gentle warmth of Theo’s body and pushed himself to his feet. He stumbled little as he got used to the floaty fluidity of his drunken limbs before taking a couple steps over to the sofa. He plopped himself down on the floor again this time with his back leaning on the couch directly next to Draco’s long lean legs. Harry sighed relaxing into the comfortable backrest the furniture provided.

Suddenly he stiffened up as he realized the room had gone silent. As he looked around the room all eyes were pointed fixed on his position at Draco’s side. Harry felt intimidated again.

“Sorry. My back was just hurting sitting over there with nothing to lean on.” He clarified hurriedly.

“Oh his back was hurting.” Pansy snickered to Ginny. They laughed but no one else said anything. The room relaxed again into a blurry calmness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

After that night Harry and Ginny start to join the Slytherins in the sitting room more frequently. Harry’s favorite nights are when Hermione and Ron join too and the group becomes more rowdy. They start to learn more about each other. Harry learned about Adrian’s hopeless crush on a girl at work. He learned about the time in fifth year that Pansy had convinced Draco and Theo to smoke muggle weed with her and they had all pretended to be massively high until Blaise had showed up and explained they were actually smoking dried oregano. Draco had turned pink when Blaise told everyone. His cheeks lit up fiery against pale skin. When Harry thought about the story he remembered the blush staining Draco’s cheeks as the more poignant detail.

Eventually Harry accepted the Slytherins into the rest of his life as well. He found he enjoyed sharing breakfast with Blaise and Draco in the mornings when Draco stayed the night. Their constant cuddling grated on his nerves but they always helped him on his cross word puzzles which was great because Harry was unfortunately quite bad at them alone.

Harry oftentimes caught Draco staring at him, a strange intensity in the depths of his eyes. Sometimes Harry caught himself staring back. He figured it was just part of learning to live with the strangeness of it all. It was hard to move from enemies to friends.

Sometimes he found himself watching Draco, an unusual tension in his body as if he was waiting for Draco to spit an insult or throw a punch. Sometimes it felt like he almost wanted him to.

~~~~~~~~~~~

About three weeks after Harry joined the Slytherins for the first time he started to notice a shift in the dynamics of the sitting room. It started when Draco plopped down on the carpet next to him one night.

Harry was already at the blurry side of tipsy. He was watching the way the flames reflected in Blaises dark eyes when suddenly a foot prodded him sharply in the side.

Harry whipped his eyes over to where the foot had come from and met warm grey eyes.

“Um, Sorry.” Draco said softly, biting the corner of his lip. Harry couldn’t quite stop himself from watching the way the soft pink flesh rolled tightly against the gleam of his straight white teeth.

“No worries. You sitting with me tonight?” Harry asked a little breathless gesturing to the floor next to him.

“Yes, If you’ll have me. Those heathens over there finished our bottle 10 minutes ago. I barely got a single sip.” Draco’s tone was childish and petulant but Harry detected a trace of Slytherin humor under all the dramatic whining.

“I guess I can tolerate you over here.” Harry responded, winking over at Draco.

“If only our 15 year old selves could see us now, they’d never believe it.” Draco said conversationally, letting his knee rest against Harry’s. Harry felt a rush of warm flood his leg and rush to his core. He wanted to shift closer to Draco, to curl into him the way Blaise often did. He held himself back and reached for the wine bottle on the floor taking a dramatic swig.

“Hey, share that.” Draco poked Harry’s arm with a gentle finger impatiently waiting for him to finish drinking.

“Kind of a rude way to ask for some of my wine. Don’t think Narcissa would approve.” Harry raised his eyebrow at Draco before accidentally tracking his eyes down the length of his body.

“Eyes up here Potter.” Draco responded, his pale lips twisting into a smirk.

Harry felt blood rush to his cheeks. He hoped it was dark enough in the room that Draco wouldn’t be able to see. “I was looking on the floor for my wand.” He covered, quickly. “But don’t you wish I was looking at you. I know I'm very irresistible.”

This time it’s Draco’s time to get flustered. Harry watched as his grey eyes flicked away and focused hard on the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He stated prissily sticking his nose up into the air and making a pained expression. Harry assumed this was his attempt at looking lofty and aristocratic.

“Alright.” He said letting Draco off the hook. “Well do you want some of this wine?”

“Yes Potter. That’s what I’ve been asking for literally this entire time.” Draco huffed scooting closer to Harry in order to snatch the bottle from his hands.

Draco pulled the bottle toward him and Harry watched as large pale hands wrapped tightly around the dark glass neck. Draco’s lips came together at the bottle top and he tipped his head back closing his eyes tight. As he gulped the sweet liquid down, his throat undulated in the firelight. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about reaching one of his hands out and feeling the way it moved.

“You want some?” Draco said huskily, pushing the bottle into his hand.

“Yes.” Harry placed his lips over the ghost of Draco’s own. He kept his eyes open as he drank. He watched as Draco’s cheeks went pale and his pupils dilated. He finished drinking and set the bottle down on the carpet. He was about to turn back to Draco, continue to lose himself in Draco’s eyes when he looked back at the rest of the group and noticed Blaise watching them.

Blaise’s dark eyes were serious and sad. Harry wondered how long he’d been looking.

Suddenly his stomach felt guilty and nauseous. He stood up and left the room.

A few minutes later Ginny found him vomiting in the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Harry woke early to find Draco sitting in the kitchen alone.

“Blaise is still asleep.” Draco told him flatly as he rubbed sleep out of the corners of his eyes. Harry gazed at Draco’s rubbled hair, at the bruised shadows under his eyes and wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all.

“Okay, do you want coffee?” Harry said as he ripped his eyes away from Draco’s disheveled body and turned towards the kitchen shelves.

“You know what? I do want coffee Potter.” Draco stated, his gaze tracking Harry’s movements across the room. “But I’m tired of this house. Let’s go out. Find coffee in the real world.” His voice was dramatic and restless and Harry didn’t know how to say no to him.

“Alright.” He said and followed Draco out the door.

They walked quickly and in silence. Harry wracked his brain for things to say but couldn’t think of anything. His gaze kept catching on the way the cold brought pink into Draco’s cheeks. Harry hoped Draco didn’t notice.

They ended up at a muggle coffee shop a couple blocks from Grimmauld Place. When they stepped inside Harry was astonished to note the golden hued walls that rose high above their heads. The walls were covered in long glass windows and the cafe around them was full of a varied assortment of plush sofas and armchairs. In several corners Harry notices fireplaces burning cheerfully. Customers sipped their drinks and warmed their hands chatting to each other joyfully.

“Wow.” Harry glanced across at Draco noting the way the golden light fell across his features. “This place is great.”

“Have you not been here before?” Draco said as he moved toward the counter to order.

“Nope.” Harry responded following Draco.

“Well, you’ve definitely been missing out.” Draco turned to the shopkeeper and ordered for both of them. Harry wondered how Draco knew his coffee order.

They sat perched together on a sapphire blue sofa looking out the window and waiting for their drinks to be made. Once again it was silent.

“You know I can’t quite stop thinking you might punch me at any moment.” Harry blurted out before blushing dark red to the roots of his hair. “I mean that’s not what I meant. I just. I don’t know how to describe it.”

Draco saved him from his blundering. “It’s okay I know what you’re saying. The change feels so strange.”

“I almost miss it sometimes.” Harry said wistfully. “Sometimes the only stability in my life was that you hated me.”

“I never hated you.” Draco responded quickly.

Harry looked at him in shock. “What do you mean? Of course you did.”

“I didn’t.” Draco’s tone was adamant. “I was ignorant and scared mostly.” He stared at the window, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes. “Also jealous. But I never hated you. I think I thought I wanted what you had. Now I realize I was wrong. I can’t even imagine what you went through.”

Harry found that his mind was reeling. “Oh.”

“Anyways, I’m sorry for how I treated you Harry.” Draco laid his hand on Harry’s back. His touch felt electric. Harry leaned in.

“You already apologized to me right after the trials. You don’t have to do it again.” Harry told him softly. He prayed with every fiber of his being that Draco would keep his hand where he’d left it.

“Yes but that time didn’t matter.” Now it was Draco’s time to blush in embarrassment. “I mean it did matter obviously. But like we weren’t mates. Now it matters more.”

Harry found himself stuck on the word mates. He knew they’d been getting closer the last couple weeks but he couldn’t quite fathom the idea of Draco’s gentle tenor voice calling him mate. It felt so simple and yet at the same time completely incomprehensible.

“I forgave you the first time even if you think it mattered less.” Harry said, knocking his knee against Draco’s.

Draco refused to make eye contact with him and Harry watched as his pale cheeks went thinner and angrier. “What I did wasn’t forgivable.”

“It was.” Harry protested, “You were a child who wasn’t given a choice. You just said you were ignorant. Your parents kept you in the dark. They manipulated you. It wasn’t your fault.

Draco tried to draw his body away from him but Harry scooted down the coach against him refusing to give up the warm comfort of his body.

“Dumbledore gave me a chance to get out and I was too slow to take it.” Draco spat. His porcelain face was twisted in a grimace. Harry knew if he could look into his eyes they’d be hard and cold.

“I think you wanted to take it though.” He said gently

“How do you even know about this?!” Draco’s cheeks went paler that Harry could even imagine and his gaze whipped up. His eyes were dark and full, like storm clouds before the rain. Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen him this shocked.

“Oh. Um. I was there?” His voice turned up at the end like he was asking a question. Harry cursed himself for being so bad with emotional crises. “Under my invisibility cloak. I was there with Dumbledore. I watched it all happen.”

“Oh perfect so you watched me almost kill our headmaster, your hero. And now you’re here just forgiving me. Like it’s that easy.” He laughed maniacally.

“It is that easy.” Harry told him gently. “You were in an impossible situation. You did what you could. You realized it was wrong. You moved forward.” He placed his hand on Draco’s knee in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Draco flinched but didn’t move away. His body heat on Harry’s bare hand felt electric.

“You call making friends with Gryffindors and making the enzyme potions for a magic liquor company moving forward?” Draco scoffed. Harry noticed he was leaning into Harry’s body warmth. “I’ve barely done anything good! No heroic duties or lives saved or Order’s of Merlin.”

“That’s not what’s important.” Harry was baffled. “You’re funny and loyal and honest. You make good soup! Remember when you made that creamy carrot stew last week? We all loved it.”

“I can’t believe the Savior of the Wizarding World is sitting here with me right now telling me not to worry about being a literal Death Eater because now I’m clearly a good person since I make good soup.” Draco was laughing again but this time it was the kind of laughter that bubbled warm from the depths of your stomach. He turned towards Harry gasping for breath and suddenly Harry was laughing too.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Harry protested struggling to breath and wiping tears from his eyes. He tried to stop giggling but every time he and Draco looked at each other it sent them into another round of giggles.

“Um. Excuse me Sir?” A girl wearing an apron stared at them openly. Her face was twisted in a friendly expression but Harry could tell she was trying her hardest not to look at them like they were completely insane.

“I think you ordered these coffees?” She continued sounding very uncertain that Draco and Harry were even sane enough to have ordered the drinks in the first place.

“Oh yes. Those would be ours.” Draco attempted a polished tone but it came out sounding rather choked.

A wide grin was splitting his face and he was struggling to contain giggles. He grabbed the coffees in his broad pale hands and thanked the women. Then he gestured to the door “After you Harry.” In a whisper he added. “I think we’d better go before they decide to kick us out.”

As they walked to the door Harry became aware of just how loud they had been laughing. All the customers sitting in the cafe had turned and were watching them as they left the shop.

“I really didn’t think we were laughing that hard.” Harry grumbled to Draco as their feet finally crossed the threshold and they were deposited back onto the cold street.

“I agree. Customers must have been really bored to have been entertained by the likes of us.” Draco responded back. His face was still painted with a small smile. “ I mean a Death Eater and the Savior? Friends at last? Can’t get more boring than that.”

Harry glanced back at him grinning. He was glad he and Draco could talk about things like this. It made him feel warm from deep in his bones.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next weekend when Harry returned from his shift at the Ministry he was stunned to find the sitting room empty.

He’d spent his whole shift chasing thieves with Ginny through the streets of London looking forward to relaxing in front of the fire drinking and watching the flames reflect on the beautiful faces around him.

He’d spent a lot of time thinking about one face in particular, reminding himself that said person was off limits, and making twisted terrible faces that resulted in Ginny repeatedly asking him if he’d been hit with a jinx of some kind. Now all that was for nothing because no one was home. The whole house was dark and empty.

Harry resigned himself to an evening without the Slytherins. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten so used to their company that he’d started to miss them. He found himself very glad Ginny had had “plans” tonight because he was certain he was making that terrible twisted face again.

He stopped by the kitchen and made himself a slapdash sandwich before grabbing a bottle of wine and quickly climbing the stairs to his room.

He settled at his desk and flipped open his laptop clicking on a Netflix show at random. It had been quite a feat installing the internet into Grimmauld Place but Hermione had assisted him and in the end it had been worth it. He knew for a fact that Blaise, Pansy and Ginny had quickly become addicted to watching the Great British Bake Off. It had been one of their primary bonding activities. He watched it with them sometimes and found himself heartily enjoying it.

He was halfway through his demolishment of his sandwich and was just opening his bottle of wine when a cool hand clasped his shoulder. Immediately his wartime reflexes kicked in and he jolted out of his chair drawing his wand. He had the figure pinned to the wall, wand at his throat before he properly looked at them. His gaze met soft grey eyes. He traced his eyes across pale skin and exposed throat before it properly sunk in that he was holding Draco at wand-point against the wall of his bedroom. As his body relaxed he felt warmth bloom in his stomach. Something about the way Draco looked vulnerable and spread out, completely at his mercy made his knees feel weak.

“So, you uh planning on letting me go anytime soon?” Draco asked with a wry grin.

Harry blushed and quickly stepped back stumbling a little over his own feet. This only made him blush more. “Sorry! Sorry! I don’t know what came over me.” “Your reflexes are astonishingly fast.” Draco seemed unperturbed by the whole ordeal.

“It’s no big deal.” He mumbled looking at the floor and wishing away the blush on his cheeks. “What are you doing here anyways? I thought everyone had gone out or something.” Harry couldn’t quite believe the good luck of Draco turning up. He hoped Draco didn’t notice how happy he was to have company.

“Oh. Well Pansy and Ginny have a date later. I’d assume Blaise is at Pansy’s helping her get ready and who knows where Theo and Aiden are. They’re quite unpredictable.” He waved his hand in the air nonchalantly and plopped down into one of Harry’s armchairs.

“What do you mean Ginny and Pansy have a date?!” Harry blustered. His face was screwed up into a look of intense confusion.

“I mean they’re going on a date.” Draco responded flatly looking vaguely confused himself. “I don’t know why you’re surprised?”

“What do you mean you don’t know why I’m surprised. Why would they go on a date?”

“Because they’re been flirting with each other for weeks now? Have you not seen them cuddle on the couch literally all the time? I think Ginny has kissed Pansy on the cheek in front of you multiple times now Potter.” Draco was looking at him like he completely dumb.

“I didn’t know that! I thought they were just friends!” Harry thought about the way Ginny had reverently talked about her blossoming friendship with Pansy during almost every case they had had the last two weeks. At least that made more sense now but still! How could Draco expect him to not be surprised?! It wasn’t like he was a mind reader. “It’s not like I’m a mind reader.”

“Oh that’s right Potter.” Draco said serenely. “I forgot you’re emotionally stunted.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well you seem to have difficulties reading other people's emotions. And now that I think about it you don’t really express your own emotions clearly.” His tone was softer and Harry could tell he was trying to be inoffensive. Harry was still a little offended.

“That’s not true.” He retorted, making a face back at Draco.

“Okay Potter, when was the last time you directly told someone how you felt.” Draco’s tone was a little more pointed now though it was clear that he was doing his best to be gentle.

“Last week I told Ron to stop sneaking alcohol into all of our drinks to test its flavor!”

“I don’t know if that counts Potter.”

“Ugh whatever.” Harry stuck out his tongue at Draco and focused on taking a swig out of his wine bottle.

“Hey, pass that over.” Draco scooted his chair closer and stretched out his arm reaching for the bottle. Harry extended it toward him and suppressed a shiver as their hands brushed. Draco’s hand was calm and cool. Harry wished he could keep his skin pressed against it.

~~~~~~~~~

After that the tension dissolves into a more comfortable atmosphere. Draco suggests they watch a film called twilight. They laugh together over the muggle depiction of vampires. Harry especially likes when the vampires run at supernatural speeds. It sends him into peels of laughter.

Halfway through the film they decided to play a drinking game which mainly consisted of gulping liquid every time something is unrealistically portrayed. Harry quickly found himself quite drunk. His body felt relaxed and he knew if he stood up he’d likely stumble.

“Harryyy.” Draco whined as the ending credits played. “This chair is so uncomfortable I can’t believe you haven’t replaced it.”

Harry was about to argue with him when he realized that his back had become increasingly stiff during the duration of the movie and now it almost pained him to lean back against the chair.

“You’re right?” He said, his tone ticking up at the end. It felt so funny to admit that Draco was right about something he immediately found himself lost in a flood of giggles. Draco looked at him confused at first until Harry explained, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you.”

Then Draco gave into it with him until they were both gasping for breath and Draco had slumped off his chair and collapsed onto the carpet.

“Even the ground is better than your hideous taste in furniture.” Draco proclaimed, grinning up at him. His smile was so radiant that Harry felt himself blinking and looking away. Something about the smile was so open and honest and it made Harry feel a bit raw inside.

“I didn’t even pick it out.” Harry struggled to respond. “I think it’s been here since the Black’s owned the place.” He flopped down joining Draco on the ground.

“Now what are we going to do? I left the wine way up there on the desk.” He turned to Draco with an expectant look in his eye.

“Oh so you want me to stand up and get it for you?” Draco raised his eye at him in challenge. “You may be the Savior of the Wizarding World but you have to deal with the consequences of your own mistakes. Anyways, I’ve just got comfortable down here. I can’t possibly stand up now.”

Harry made a horrible face at Draco and moved close enough to poke him in the arm a couple of times. “You’re going to have to deal with the consequences too mate, now neither of us have anything to drink.”

“You underestimate me yet again Harry.” Draco froze, his eyes went wide and shocked and Harry stared back at him carefully. “Merlin, I just called you Harry.” Draco said, sounding astounded. “Weird. What a turn of events.” He recovered himself and continued in a normal tone, “Anyways I have more tricks up my sleeve than you could ever imagine.” He reached inside the left arm of his sweater and pulled out his wand.

“What are you doing keeping your wand in your sleeve?!” Harry exclaimed loudly. “That’s like the worst place to keep it.”

“Never-mind that.” Draco told him, sticking his nose in the air. He waved his wand sloppily, almost hitting Harry in the face, “ Accio Wine!”

Harry had doubted the spell would work. After all, the sporadic movements of Draco’s wand are hardly convincing. So, when a wine bottle drifted through the crack of his bedroom door and came to rest gently in Draco’s hand his mouth dropped open in shock.

“Wow. I hate to say it but I’m a little impressed.” He looked at Draco with an approving gaze and realized that Draco’s cheeks had blushed a gentle pink. He watched as Draco uncorked the wine and took a deep drink.

“So, are you going to share that?” Harry asked, stretching his hand out towards Draco.

“Obviously not Harry. Your wine is up there far away.” Draco gestured at the desk grinning lazily before taking another large sip from his bottle.

Harry found his body buzzing with frustration and also a thrum of excitement. Before he could think about it he threw himself at Draco tackling him onto the floor.

The boys grappled frantically. Draco managed to wrap his arms around Harry, pinning his hands to his sides. Harry’s gaze was locked on the wine bottle. In a violent twisting movement he managed to free both his hands at once. He pushed against Draco’s chest as hard as he could, shoving him roughly into the ground. Draco’s back hit the floor in a loud smack and Harry clambered on top of him using his thighs to pin Draco’s legs together. Grinning maniacally Harry reached his hands towards the wine bottle in Draco’s left hand. In a quick movement Draco jerked the bottle away and Harry landed heavily, his hands bracketing Draco’s head.

At that moment their gazes locked. Suddenly Harry was no longer thinking about the bottle of wine.

Suddenly the only thing Harry could think about was the hot heat of Draco’s body beneath him and the depths of his grey eyes.

He froze watching Draco’s face. Draco’s gaze flickered, ghosting down across Harry’s lips and then back up to his eyes. Before Harry could stop himself he was leaning down. All at once their lips pressed together. The kiss felt like drowning in an oil spill. Dangerous like with one spark they would go up in flames. Harry lost himself in the warm brush of Draco’s lips against his. He shifted closer, draping his body over Draco trying to get as close to him as possible. Draco mirrored him, placing his cool broad hands on Harry’s waist and pulling him. Their bodies shifted against the floor in sync.

Crack

They both froze, pulling apart abruptly. Harry glanced over and saw that the glass bottle had fallen spilling dark red wine across the carpeted floor.

His head started to race and he slowly pushed himself back onto the floor away from Draco.

What had he been thinking? Draco and Blaise are clearly together. They slept together more nights a week than he and Draco even hung out. He liked Blaise. He would never want to hurt him. Yet there he was on the floor of his bedroom with a boy who clearly meant something to Blaise and suddenly he was so angry with himself and with Draco that he couldn't think straight.

“You need to leave.” He hissed glaring at Draco.

Draco turned paper white and scrambled to his feet. “Um. okay. Uh. Sorry.”

Harry sat rooted to the floor as he watched Draco stalk out of the room. The abandoned wine bottle sat next to him, the wine soaking slowly deeper into the carpet.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Harry woke feeling heavy and tired like he was recovering from a long illness. He grunted and opened his eyes. The sunlight shone bright through his curtains directly into his eyes momentarily blinding him. He immediately shut his eyes again. Why had he drank so much last night?

As he turned away from the window and buried his head under his pillows it hit him. His stomach recoiled in a hot flash of horror. He couldn’t believe he’d kissed Draco. He didn’t know how he’d ever look Blaise in the eye again. His stomach was tangled up in panicked knots and yet as he thought about the night before all he could think about was the look in Draco’s eyes when he had gazed at him in cold furry before stalking out of his room.

He laid there in a stupor hoping he could fall asleep again and forget the dreadful events of the night before. After many unsuccessful minutes he gave up and forced himself out of bed hauling the dead weight of his body into the shower.

As he showered he tried to think of solutions but everything felt so stressful and overwhelming that he found it hard to think straight. He decided he would have better solutions after he got some food into his body so he quickly finished up in the shower, jammed himself into some clothes and headed downstairs.

As soon as he arrived at the threshold of the kitchen he cursed himself. There staring straight into his shocked green eyes was Blaise.

“Um. Uh. Hi.” Harry struggled to speak. His body felt frozen. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten that Blaise might be in his kitchen.

“Hey?” Blaise’s face was twisted into an expression of extreme confusion. “There’s some extra food here if you want some. Um. If you don’t mind me asking. Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“Er. No reason.” Harry tried to walk normally to the kitchen table.

“I think you’re also walking kinda weird?” Blaise’s tone raised at the end like a question.

Harry sat down at the table and wracked his brain for an acceptable answer for Blaise. In his panic he completely lost it and blurted out, “Look Blaise I’m so so so sorry but I kissed Draco last night.”

He waited frozen for Blaise to yell at him or punch him or cry or something terrible.

He’s taken completely off guard when Blaise lets out a confused chuckle,“Why are you sorry again?”

“Um. because aren’t you dating him? Or something?” Harry’s face blushed a dark red and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Blaise burst out into peels of laughter. “You thought we were dating?” He choked out. “Draco’s going to have a field day when I tell him!”

“You… aren’t dating?” Harry responded slowly, his mind a blur.

“We are not dating.” Blaise said flatly. He was looking at Harry like he was a bit slow.

“Are you at least hooking up?” Harry asked, feeling completely lost.

“I mean we have before but not for ages and ages.” Blaise said.

“But Draco stays the night all the time!” Harry felt exasperated.

“That doesn’t mean we’re dating or hooking up or anything other than friends.” Blaise said gently. He reaches across the table to hand Harry some food. “Neither of us sleep very well by ourselves after the war. It seemed like a good solution.”

“Oh.” Everything started to make sense. “So you aren’t mad I kissed Draco?”

“Not at all. In fact I’m quite pleased. Now Pansy owes me 20 galleons.” Blaise smiled across at him.

“You and Pansy had a bet going?” Harry asked. His mind was swimming with new information.

“Yep.” Blaise said, popping his p and sounding very proud of himself.

“Shoot. I have to talk to Draco.” Harry interrupted. His mind is playing a loop of the look on Draco’s face when he’d kicked him out of his room last night.

“Uh. oh. What’d you do?”

“I kicked him out after we kissed last night.” Harry felt utterly miserable. “I thought you two were dating.”

“Merlin’s beard, no wonder he was such a mess last night when I got home.” Blaise said, looking at him with wide eyes. “He’s still in bed. Refused to get up for breakfast. If I were you I’d go get the talk over with now.”

“Okay.” Harry responded quietly. His sadness and regret formed a heavy ball in the depths of his stomach. He hoped Draco could forgive him.

“Good luck.” Blaise said. He reached over and patted Harry gently on the back. Harry found himself leaning into the warmth of his hand.

Harry pulled himself away from the comfort of Blaise’s hand and trudged up the stairs to Blaise’s room and rapped on the door, “Draco,” he called gently through the wood. He waited a second but got no response. “Draco?” he called again, this time pushing open the door slowly. As the door opened he caught a glimpse of Draco’s face limp with sleep. His blonde curls are splayed across the pillow and his pale arms are sticking haphazardly out of the crumpled white sheets.

Harry finds his feet rooted to the ground. His gaze locked on the strip of sunlight that drifts through the open curtains and falls across Draco’s face. Draco looked like something out of a painting, all milky skin and tousled hair. Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

Instead he forced himself to stand stock-still. He counted his breaths, watched the sleepy rise and fall of Draco’s chest and tried to convince his body to turn away. To walk back downstairs to the kitchen.

His plans were blown to pieces when Draco started to stir. “Hmm?” he mumbled, turning towards Harry. His eyes were still closed.

“Um, Draco?” Harry called again. This time he pitched his tone as gently as possible. The lump in the depths of his stomach hoped that Draco wouldn’t wake up at all.

“Potter?” Draco’s eyes opened slightly showing skeptical slits of grey between his eyelashes.

“Um. Yes. It’s me.” Harry stepped over the threshold of the door and onto the light wood floor.

“Don’t know why you think you’re allowed in my room when you spent so much energy kicking me out of yours last night.” Draco mumbled.

“Well it’s not your room is it? It’s Blaises.” Harry retorted.

Then he cursed himself. He was there to apologize. Riling Draco up any further wasn’t in his best interest. “I mean sorry. I’m here to say sorry.”

“Oh is Potter sorry he doesn’t want me? Potter can’t handle the guilt of not wanting someone back?” Draco’s face was hidden in the pillows. His singsongy taunting made Harry’s heart ache.

“Draco, will you please just listen to me?” He took a step closer to the bed.

“ Why would I listen to you Potter? All I want is for you to leave.” His voice was weaker now. Harry thought it almost sounded like he was holding back tears.

“Because I do want you! I shouldn’t have kicked you out of my room. It was all a misunderstanding.” Harry was standing over Draco now. He watched his body for any flicker of movement hoping against hope that Draco would turn back towards him.

“Oh haha a misunderstanding.” Draco’s head was still buried and his words sounded borderline hysterical.

“I’m serious Draco! I thought you and Blaise were dating. I panicked.” Harry started as Draco let out a peel of maniacal laughter from under the blankets.

“Oh my god. There is no way you believed that. You’re pranking me.” Harry had to admit he’d never anticipated that convincing Draco he wanted him would be this hard.

“I’m not pranking you, you prat.” He was completely exasperated. “Will you just turn over and look at me at least?”

“Fine.” Draco huffed, flipping over in a tangle of sheets. “But you’re going to have to prove you’re not lying because quite frankly I don’t trust you.” His eyes opened in slits again and Harry felt his insides go all warm and mushy.

“Of course I’ll prove it to you.” He responded letting his lips curve up into a smirk.

He knelt down by the bedside and reached out caressing Draco’s cheek, pulling him in. This time their lips met cautiously in a gentle press of warmth. Draco reached up and intertwined his fingers into Harry’s dark curls pulling him closer. Harry breathed a small sign of relief against his lips and leaned in, pressing his fingertips along Draco’s chest, bending into his body warmth. Harry was just losing himself in the kiss when Draco paused, pulling away a bit.

“What are you still doing on the floor, come up here with me.” Draco demanded, a little breathless. Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and practically dove into the pile of blankets next to Draco. Draco wrapped his long arms around Harry pulling him flush to his chest. Harry shivered as the hot heat of Draco’s body bloomed across his exposed skin. He moved closer and pushed their lips back together. They lost themselves in each other. Harry couldn't think of anything but Draco’s hot breath on his neck and the way his body moved under him. Being with Draco felt like making up for lost time, like grinning in the face of the war, like they couldn’t have been more inevitable.

~~~~~~~~

When Blaise found them later curled up in his bed asleep he chuckled ruefully, quietly eased the door shut and turned on his heel eager to collect his bets. He figured he’d stop at Pansy’s first. After all, he hadn't yet heard the details of her date with a certain pretty redhead.