Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Harry Potter, his friends, foes, and world. That honor belongs to J Rowling.
He's walking outside to join the party when he spots the bonfire. His hands shake (He can't think, he can't think!) and he tries to turn. He tries to make it back in the house before anything more severe happens. But he can't move. His feet won't lift up, his eyes won't tear themselves away from the fire.
The flames are all around him now, he can hear Crabbe screaming, and the serpents are coming closer and closer, and it's getting so hot! And Harry, where's Harry? Why isn't he coming on his broom, where is he? And even though he knows it's already happened, that he's safe, he can't help but worry that maybe, maybe Harry isn't coming to get him this time.
A hand falls on his shoulder. He immediately turns into the person, burying his head the other's chest. The hand moves to his upper back and makes soothing circling motions, while the other hand appears and settles itself on the back of his head, drawing him closer.
"I'm so sorry!" The words burst of his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I ruined your party, but I couldn't help it! The fire was all over, it was surrounding me, and I couldn't move, and Crabbe – I couldn't find Crabbe! He was dying! And then, then," He stops speaking as Harry starts making shushing noises.
"Hey, hey, Draco, it's okay. I understand. It was stupid of us to build a fire so soon after the war. But it's alright now. Come on, I'll get you inside, and I'll make you tea, and then I'll go and put out the fire," Harry leads Draco back in the house and to the kitchen, where he seats Draco on a stool.
"But Harry, I ruined your party. I was being stupid, I knew the fire wasn't everywhere, but I thought-"
"Draco, shut up. Shut up," Harry turns away from the stove and looks towards Draco. "It is not your fault, and don't even think it is. We all have problems. Ron doesn't sleep uninterrupted anymore, and Hermione can't go a week without breaking down because of her time with Bellatrix. And you have got to remember how Neville started crying uncontrollably just because he was wearing a hat. None of that is our fault. It's this world's, which thought it was okay to drag seventeen-year-olds into a war," Harry makes his way over to Draco and looks him in the eyes. "So don't you dare ever try to apologize."
Draco looks up, tears glistening in his eyes. He suddenly reaches out his arms and grabs Harry around the neck and pulls him close, ignoring his muffled complaints of pain. "Thank you," he whispers. "I think I can go back to the party now. Just…stay close?"
"Always," Harry whispers into Draco's chest. "I'll never leave your side."
AN: So there's my promised Drarry. It's a bit sappy…okay, a lot, and short, but hey, it's something.