When they were still in Hogwarts, when everyone was worried more about the upcoming war, they put aside their differences once a week. They didn't even know how that day started. But on that day, they would mostly stare at each other blankly, neither knowing how to proceed.

But, eventually, they fell into a routine. Draco would pick a day they were both free – Harry never knew how he always knew that, and probably never would – and send a school owl to Harry with the time, date, and location.

They never met in the same place twice. Hogwarts was big enough that they had a practically infinite amount of places to meet.

Draco would be there already by the time Harry would arrive, a book spread open on his lap. The Slytherin would look up at Harry, then back to his book. For a while they would read or do homework, until Harry would get antsy. He would mutter, "Ready for the Quidditch match?" depending on the week.

Draco would snap his book shut and turn his gray-eyed gaze on him. "Of course. Are you ready to lose?"

That would spark an argument over which was better, Gryffindor or Slytherin. But it never escalated out of hand; they never mentioned anything that would really get them riled up, like Dumbledore, or Muggle-borns.

It wasn't until they had been meeting for nearly a year that they actually kissed.

They were in the middle of another argument, this time over whether Muggle Studies was a needed class, when Harry leaned forward and planted his lips on Draco's.

It was nowhere near perfect, but it shut Draco up and gave them something new to do on their self-given days off.

When the war came and Harry disappeared off the face of the Earth, Draco secretly hoped that the Gryffindor would take care of Voldemort. He would rather live life free than enslaved to Voldemort.

Even if choosing Harry's side meant he ended up in Azkaban.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione ended up being dragged to Malfoy Manor, Draco pretended to not know him. He would never willingly hand them over to Voldemort, especially Harry. Not when he was his ticket to freedom.

The entire purpose of choosing Harry would be pointless.

And the blond couldn't help but remember those days they spent together in secret.

Later, after Voldemort had been defeated, they found each other by a collapsed corridor. It was slightly awkward again, the perfect balance they had achieved thrown off by their confusion.

For several seconds they only stared at each other, basking in the relief of seeing other alive. Then Draco threw caution to the wind – technically, they had broken off whatever they had had at the end of sixth year – and kissed Harry, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past year into it.

And just like that, everything in their relationship was normal again.