"Harry?" Draco's voice did not waver. His hands were NOT shaking. Malfoy's didn't do scared.
Still, the manor gardens were awfully dark and eerie after night fall. Especially when one was utterly, depressingly, worryingly, alone.
Where WAS his prat of a boyfriend any way?! It had been the Gryffindor's idea to meet here so that Draco's parents wouldn't walk in on anything... untoward. Couldn't the idiot at least be on time?
The blond all but shrieked when cold hands grabbed his arm. Turning sharply, wand held out, Draco's wide eyes locked with the sparkling emerald of Harry's. The twit was trying not to laugh!
"It's not funny!" Draco scowled.
Still trying not to smile, Harry nodded. "No, not at all."
"Where were you, anyway?" the blond demanded. In the face of his love's note worthy temper, Harry began to sober up.
"Ron stayed out late with 'Mione. I had to wait to leave until he got back. I'm sorry, I didn't imagine your own gardens could scare you."
"I wasn't scared," was the petulant reply.
Harry laughed again, pulling the mercurial blond into his arms. Draco began to calm, almost despite himself.
There was a warm feeling spreading through his body. Harry's arms most certainly did NOT feel like home. If Malfoys didn't do fear, they definitely -ESPECIALLY- didn't do love.