Disclaimer: Not. Mine. Kthnx.
It was the day after Draco Malfoy's twenty-fifth birthday bash, and of course, it had been celebrated in a way only Malfoy birthdays were. Sometime into the late afternoon, the blond rolled over in bed, stretching lazily as his eyes attempted to adjust themselves to the daylight streaming in through the curtains. As his hand brushed against something soft, Draco turned his head, squinting against the light. His companion lay sleeping still, his tousled raven hair mussed even more by sleep. Draco smirked as he recalled the events of the previous night. Just then, emerald eyes slowly blinked open, locking with stormy gray as those lips curved into a smile. "Morning," he said, his voice husky from sleep. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, bloody hell," he swore jumping out of bed and searching for his clothes. Draco sat up, frowning. "Harry? What's the matter?" he asked. Harry refused to meet his eyes. "I, uh, I've gotta run. I've just remembered..." But just what he remembered was never made clear as he finished pulling on his clothes and headed for the door.
"But, Harry..." Draco half-whined. Harry paused, his hand on the doorknob. Then, he squared his shoulders and opened the door, leaving without a backward glance. It was a moment before Draco overcame his shock long enough to go after him. He quickly pulled on some pants and raced to the front door, his heart pounding. He looked frantically up and down the street, and his heart sank. It was too late. Harry had vanished.
Looking back, Draco always pointed to that moment as the moment he knew, the kind of knowing a person only gets to experience once in their lifetime. Draco never told Harry, but he always marked that as they day he realised just how much he had already come to care for him. For if he didn't care, why would it matter so much whether Harry left or not? Even a Malfoy couldn't argue with that.
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Several weeks after his memorable birthday bash, Draco was in his study, writing a letter, when he heard an owl tapping on his window. He glared at it, as if that was enough to make it go away. The bird only tapped harder, demanding entrance. With a huff, he got up and let the snowy owl in. He roughly untied the scroll, and the bird promptly turned and flew away in the direction it had come. Draco stared after it a moment, when he turned his attention to the scroll in his hand. He opened it, scanning its contents quickly. Harry was writing to aplogise. He admitted he'd been stupid, and asked if Draco would ever be able to put it behind him. Even still, it took many owls back and forth before Draco fully accepted Harry's apology. Many late-night conversations in front of the fire followed these exchanges, ranging in topic from their religious beliefs to their favourite ice cream flavour. Often following these conversations was lovemaking that either took Draco's breath away with its passion, or brought him to tears with its tenderness. Draco never was quite sure who kissed who that first time. It didn't matter in any case, all Draco knew he never felt more alive, more himself, than when he was with Harry. Even more time passed, so that Draco never noticed the exact moment when he fell in love. It happened so gradually, he only knew was that one kiss, one smile, was enough to shatter him and then put him back together, whole and complete.
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Draco watched idly as the numbers on the clock flipped from 11:59 to 12:00. "Happy birthday to me," he murmured. At the sound of his voice, Harry shifted in his sleep, letting out a soft sigh. Draco smiled in contentment, admiring the way the moonlight lit up Harry's black tresses. It hadn't even started yet, and this was already the best birthday he'd ever had. Carefully, Draco draped his arm over Harry's torso as he snuggled into his back, laying a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. Yes, for the first time he could really remember, Draco Malfoy was truly happy. And also for the first time, it appeared he was going to be able to stay happy for a long, long time.