It was a typical gloomy day in London. A light fog hung in the air above the city, blocking the sun and any sign of what time of day it was. Typically, Harry hated these kinds of day. Rain had always put him in a bad mood. Maybe it was from his childhood and being stuck inside with the Dursleys with no escape other than his cupboard. But today, despite the gloomy weather, was a good day.
His boyfriend had come over that morning, two steaming cups of tea in his hands. His irresistible smirk stuck on his face as he caught Harry staring at the water dripping off his blond hair and sliding down his sharp jawline.
"I brought you something," Draco said, handing a surprised Harry his cup. "Miserable day outside, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah." Harry took the cup, appreciating the instant warmth it brought his chilled hands. "What are you doing, Draco? Don't you have work?"
"Don't you?" Harry broke his gaze, glancing instead Draco's wet feet. Why hadn't he cast a drying charm? Without a second thought, he pulled his wand from his pocket and wordlessly cast a drying and warming charm on Draco.
"Took the day off. Wouldn't have gotten anything done anyways." Draco rolled his eyes and pushed past Harry into the small apartment.
"Right. Well. As your boyfriend, I also took the day off, and used my time to bring you a delectable warm drink." He nodded to the cup. "Drink up before it gets cold."
Harry shook his head but took a sip nevertheless. "I still don't get how you make it perfectly every time."
The smirk grew. "Magic." Harry chuckled and went to sit back down on his couch. Draco followed, placing his cup on the coffee table while he made himself comfortable underneath a shared throw blanket.
"I love you, you dork," Harry muttered. "But seriously, why aren't you at work?"
Draco shrugged, grabbing his cup and shifting close to Harry's side. "I didn't feel like it. I have plenty of vacation days left in the year, and I thought we could have some together time. Merlin knows we haven't had enough of that lately."
Harry didn't need Merlin to know that. With both of their busy ministry jobs, it was nearly impossible to find time to go out together. Either they were both too tired, or too busy. He had missed this. The comfort of Draco's fingers threaded through his, the comforting scent that he carried everywhere with him, the sharp but warm tone of his words. He couldn't get enough.
"Alright," he whispered. He laid his head on Draco's shoulder, breathing deeply. He hadn't felt this calm in months. The soothing sound of rain on the window, the steady breaths of his boyfriend, the almost burning feeling of the cup of tea in his hands. It was all perfect.
He took another sip of tea, and lightly squeezed Draco's hand. His fingers were so long, so delicate, so gentle. They were the complete opposite of Harry's worn, calloused ones, yet they looked perfect intertwined together.
"What are you looking at?" Draco's voice shook him from his thoughts. A light blush bloomed on Harry's face.
"Nothing." One look at Draco told him that his answer wasn't enough. "I'm going to sound weird."
"How much weirder can we get, Potter?"
"Fine. Your fingers."
"My fingers?"
"They're just so long, and pretty, and perfect." Harry blushed harder. "That's all."
Draco chuckled and glanced at his fingers. Personally, he had never liked them much. Sure, they were great for piano playing, but he often thought them obnoxiously long and too pale to be likable.
"You're adorable, you know that?" Draco mumbled, snuggling into Harry more. Harry made a noise of agreement, too content to say much else.
They stayed like that for a while, content with the other's presence. The sound of the rain pouring outside, the odd sounds of the apartment complex, and each other's soothing breath. That was the nice thing about their relationship. Neither one had to say anything to make the other feel better. All they had to do was be there.
"Draco?" Harry whispered, scared to break the moment.
"Hmm?"
"You know how to play piano, don't you?" Draco scoffed.
"Of course. It's a pureblood tradition, the heir learning a classical instrument. I've had lessons since I could walk."
"Would you play for me?" Harry's voice was timid, afraid he was asking too much of Draco. He didn't want to ruin the perfect moment that they had created together, but he couldn't get those hands out of his mind, and how it would feel to see them skimming over the black and white keys of a piano…
"I've never played in front of anyone but my family before…" Draco mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Harry looked at him seriously.
"You're my family Draco, you have been for a while now."
The words shook Draco, rendering him speechless for a moment. Family. What was family, truly? Sure, he had grown up with a loving father and mother, but he had always been second priority. Unlike most kids, who were their parent's first priority, Draco was always put after the Dark Lord. It was understandable of course, but that didn't take the pain away. He had never had someone like Harry. Someone who looked at him like he was their entire world, their entire universe. Someone who put his needs and wants before their own, even if that meant foregoing all sense of self-preservation.
"Of course," Draco said, voice thick with emotion. "You don't have a piano here, do you?" Harry laughed under his breath and broke apart from Draco's side to pull out his wand and place his cup of tea on the table.
"We're wizards, are we not?" Draco's face flushed as Harry transformed the coffee table into a grand piano.
"Impressive transfiguration there," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't suspect you're familiar with classical music?"
"Depends," Harry stated, settling himself back on the couch. It provided him the best view of Draco. Far enough to keep from invading his space, and close enough for him to be able to watch.
"Ever heard of Canon in D?" Harry thought for a moment before shaking his head. He never listened to music much, and the Dursely's never played classical music at home. Even if they did, he doubts he would have been allowed to listen.
"No, but I might have heard it somewhere." Draco nodded and placed his hands on the keys. He took a breath to steady himself and to stop his hands from shaking. It's only Harry. He isn't going to care if you mess up. Not like Father. He's not going to yell at you.
With that thought, he began playing. He started slow, adjusting and familiarizing himself with the piano, and then quicker as the pace of the song sped up. He lost all sense of where he was and who he was playing for. All that mattered was his muscle memory and the keys. Nothing else. Draco had forgotten how peaceful he felt while playing. The familiar sense of the keys dipping under his fingers eased his anxiety.
Harry stared in amazement as he watched Draco play. His hands skimmed over the piano as if it were his second nature. The tune was familiar, though he couldn't figure out how. It was beautiful. Majestic. Powerful. Just like Draco.
As he continued to play, the tension in Draco's shoulders soon disappeared. His forearms tensed up, revealing the strong muscle underneath as his long fingers stretched to dance across the keys elegantly. Draco's face was one of pure content. All his previous worries had seemed to disappear with the beginning notes, and were replaced with a peace that Harry hadn't seen on Draco in a long time.
All too soon the song came to an end. Draco held the last note for as long as he could, eager to make the song last as long as possible. When the tune stopped, his anxieties came rushing back. Draco squeezed his eyes shut out of habit, afraid of the criticisms that were sure to come his way.
"You played too fast."
"You weren't sitting straight enough."
"Where was the meaning behind that?"
"Were you even trying?"
The criticisms were instead replaced with applause, and he was soon embraced by the warm arms of his boyfriend.
"That was beautiful, Draco. Thank you." Draco opened his eyes to meet Harry's watery green ones.
"You liked it?" He whispered. Harry nodded.
"I loved it." He pecked Draco's cheek. "You were amazing. Absolutely perfect. I didn't know you were so talented at playing." His voice was a soft whisper. The kind words wrapped around Draco's anxious thoughts, making them diminish into nothing.
"I love you," Draco whispered, suddenly grateful that he had decided to play. "I love you so damn much it hurts."
Harry nuzzled his nose into Draco's neck, tightening his arms around him in a proper, reassuring hug. "I love you too."
