All character's and places belong to J.K. Rowling.
It was understandable to hold Draco's hand.
People hold each others hand all the time. When they're young. Afraid. In love.
No. Thought Harry. Not in love. There is no way I'm in love with Malfoy. He was scared. That was all. They had just almost died. He was afraid. He needed proof. That there was someone else. That he was alive. That he was okay. It was totally understandable that he reached for Draco's hand. It was totally okay that Draco let him. As they walked down the hall, side by side, shaking, afraid, in the dark, it was totally okay that they held each other's hands.
It would've been okay.
It would have been totally fine, if one of them let go when they reached the grand hall. But neither one did.
Harry glanced down and their intertwined fingers. Now, in the light, he couldn't put it down to being afraid. And neither one of them was young. That just left one more reason. Harry didn't like that reason. But he wasn't sure he could deny it.
Draco glanced at him. He smirked. "Scared, Potter?"