"Well, it could be worse."
Harry and Draco sat miserably against a large oak tree, sore, soaked from head to toe, and covered in mud. Lightning crackled overhead, followed almost immediately by a peal of thunder that made the blonde man jump. He rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's hopeless optimism. "Are you kidding me?" he scoffed irritably. "Our romantic flight was interrupted by a torrential thunderstorm, my broomstick's cracked in two, and I'm dirty, tired, soaked and cold. How could it possibly be worse?"
Glimpsing his boyfriend's sorry state, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. The ill-fated flight had been his idea after all; it was meant to be a pleasant surprise for Draco, not make him miserable.
As he stared at the blonde's pouting lips, Harry couldn't help but wonder at how sexy he looked, despite everything. Distracted by a droplet of rain swimming down Draco's cheek, Harry finally thought to cast an Umbrella charm, even though they were already soaked through. Wand in hand, he quickly remembered he was a wizard and proceeded to dry them off and warm them up as well. "Better now?"
Draco grudgingly gave him a small smile. "Yeah, thanks." It was still raining all around them, and the forest floor was muddy and slick, but at least they were comfortable. Harry slipped an arm around Draco's shoulders and the blonde leaned against him obligingly.
"At least we're together," Harry mused quietly as he stared out at the bleak forest around them.
Draco lifted his head and looked into the other's startlingly green eyes. "Now I feel bad for complaining," he replied, burrowing his head back into the space between his boyfriend's neck and shoulder. He felt the vibrations of Harry's silent chuckle before the black-haired man answered: "Don't worry about it."
Satisfied, Draco held Harry's hand and closed his eyes. He had Harry. As far as he was concerned, things couldn't be better.