When Draco woke the next morning, he was warm and comfortable and utterly happy. He yawned and nuzzled in closer to the source of his comfort, his brain unwilling to wake up and function properly. His nose scrunched when it met with the scratchy stubble covering Harry's jaw.
His eyes were open and alert faster than ever before. He had spent the entire night cuddling up to Harry Potter. And suddenly it all came rushing back to him: the Quidditch pitch, the tickling, the racing, the kissing. Oh, Merlin, they had kissed. What had he been thinking? The blond's head was nestled in the crook of Harry's neck, and he could hear clearly the brunet's steady breathing. Draco was thankful he had yet to wake up, so that he could have this massive panic attack in private.
He disentangled his legs from Harry's, and the fact that all either man had been wearing was a thin pair of pajama bottoms made his face flush so brightly and his heart race so fast that he thought he might actually hurl. Quickly and quietly, he left the room and headed towards the kitchen, leaving a sleeping, unsuspecting Harry alone in his bed, curled around a pillow.
When Harry woke some time later, he remembered immediately what had happened. His arm shot out to reach for his husband, but found the bed cold and empty, much to his disappointment. His eyes were still heavy from a lack of sleep, and it was still fairly early, but curiosity got the best of him, as usual. The brunet rolled out of bed and steadied himself on the wall across from him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned. He wandered lazily out of his bedroom, perking up when he was immediately greeted by the smell of a new pot of coffee brewing.
"I thought you would sleep forever."
Harry found Draco sitting at the head of the table, fully dressed, sipping a cup of coffee. He smiled and walked over, leaning down to kiss the man, but instead ended up kissing he cheek. Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, but Harry was in far too good of a mood to let that deter him too much.
"Morning, love," Harry chirped, walking over to the coffee maker to pour himself a mug.
"Good morning," Draco answered automatically. "Harry, there's something I need to talk to you about."
The brunet tried his hardest to not totally freak out and show that his nerves were getting the best of him. Could Draco be regretting last night already? Did he think it was a mistake? Instead of asking those questions that were buzzing around his mind like a swarm of bees whose hive had been shaken, he just leaned against the counter and stirred his coffee.
"What about?" he asked as casually as humanly possible.
"Well, about Pansy," Draco answered. "And Blaise."
Harry looked up in surprise, slightly thrown off. "Okay… Why do you need to talk about them?"
"Because," Draco started, staring steadfastly into his coffee cup. "They've asked me to come stay with them for the next week." The silence that followed alerted the blond to the fact that Harry was on the verge of having a meltdown, so he stood up and raised his hands in defense. "Their wedding is next Saturday, and they are really stressing out about it. They said they could use the extra help around the house."
"I don't want you to go," Harry told him firmly, placing his coffee down on the counter behind him.
Draco crossed his arms. "Well I wasn't exactly asking your permission, Potter."
Harry stared at him hard and grit his teeth. "You've already told them you're going, haven't you?"
The blond hesitated before raising his chin a bit higher and nodding. "Yes, I have."
"Is this about last night?" Harry asked harshly, "Because it's not like I forced you to do anything you didn't want to do."
"No," Draco snapped defensively, raising his voice. "It's not about last night. Contrary to popular belief, Potter, not everything is about you!"
Harry saw red before taking a deep breath and running his hands over his face. It didn't have the calming effect he was going for however, and so he went for the next logical step: slamming his fist down so hard on the kitchen table that Draco's coffee cup shook.
"We are married!" He shouted, truly furious at his husband for the first time in a very long time. He took a small amount of pleasure in the way Draco's eyes widened a fraction in surprise before returning to their usual narrow glare. "We don't speak to each other like this! And we certainly don't lie to each other."
"And how would you know if I'm lying or not?" Draco challenged.
"We've been together for years, Draco, I know when you're lying," Harry rolled his eyes, frustrated. "I know this is about last night. This is you, running away from your problems like you used to when you were young."
"Shut up!" Draco screamed, wand out in the blink of an eye, pointed right up to Harry's chest. He was breathing heavily from sheer rage, and for one scary moment, Harry thought that he might actually hurt him. But a short moment later, the hand holding the wand began to tremble, and Harry's fear faded quickly into crushing disappointment.
"What are you going to do, Draco?" Harry asked sadly. "Curse me? Kill me?"
The blond swallowed hard and shook his head, putting away his wand quickly. He looked away, eyes filled with something like regret or shame. "I won't be gone long," he said quietly. "A week, two tops, and then I'll come back."
Harry took a step back and shook his head. "When are you going to stop lying to me? And to yourself? You know as well as I do that if you leave right now, you won't be back."
"You're wrong," the blond insisted, still staring at the wallpaper as if it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
The brunet deflated like a balloon, releasing all his anger, as well as his hope, leaving him feeling empty and numb. "You know, this is hard for me too, Draco. Probably just as hard as it is for you. But I never stopped believing that if we worked together, and if I fought for you, things would just work out in the end. What I never considered was how quickly you would give up."
"This isn't me giving up," Draco sighed, exasperated. He finally turned back to Harry. "This is just me taking a step back. I can't be your husband right now when I don't even know who I am on my own. This is the only way I can think of to get my life back together. Without you in the picture."
"If this is honestly what you think you need to do, then there's nothing I can do about it," Harry relented.
"Right after the wedding," he repeated. "I'll come home. And we'll figure everything out."
"Okay," Harry agreed, though he was having a hard time believing him, despite his persistence. "Just be careful."
Draco rolled his eyes childishly. "I'm staying with my friends not joining a cult."
"Can I…" Harry hesitated, crossing his arms. "Can I at least give you an awkward hug goodbye?"
The blond laughed and walked towards him, throwing his arms around Harry and holding tight. He felt his husband's breath on his neck and his strong arms wrap around his waist. He pulled back and smirked. "Bye, Harry."
"Yeah," Harry answered, letting Draco go reluctantly. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but shook his head and instead said, "Bye."
Draco ducked into the bedroom, and by the time he re-emerged with his suitcase, Harry was nowhere in sight. He walked through the silent house alone, grabbing Floo powder and leaving for his destination before he let his mind linger too much on where Harry had gone, and for what reason.
Ron was as helpful as always when Harry arrived at his house, eyes red and swollen, and threw himself on the living room couch dramatically.
"I'll kill him," Ron growled, pacing over to his distraught best friend. He stopped in front of the couch and scratched the back of his neck. "But, uh, just so I can defend myself in my trial… What exactly did he do?"
A pop resounded beside him before Harry could answer and Hermione arrived home, carrying several bags of groceries. Ron rushed forward to grab the bags from his now six months pregnant wife. She kissed him on the cheek gratefully before pushing Harry's feet off the couch and sitting in the newly vacated seat.
"What did who do?" she asked Harry as he sat up and leaned heavily against the arm of the couch.
"Draco left," he told them, keeping his eyes focused on the ground.
"What?" his friends yelled simultaneously, Ron from all the way in the kitchen. He ran back quickly after that and added as he dropped into his usual chair, "What do you mean he left?"
"I mean he's gone," Harry answered, more harshly than he had intended. "He went to stay with Parkinson and Zabini until after the wedding next weekend."
"Did something happen between you two?" Hermione asked kindly, clearly feeling sympathetic.
"Well, I took your advice," he told them, and they exchanged nervous glances. "But that actually worked. Really, really well."
Ron grinned. "What did I tell you, mate? I knew it would work."
Hermione looked less optimistic. "So if it worked, then why did he leave?" Ron frowned, as if just remembering the initial problem.
"He says he needs time to figure out who he is on his own," Harry explained. "I think he just started freaking out because he woke up next to me this morning."
"What ever happened to not taking things too fast?" Hermione scolded. "He's in an extremely fragile state right now, Harry."
"I know, I know, I messed up," Harry admitted before Hermione could say anything else. "But I don't regret it. He's my husband and last night was the first time I've been close to him, in any sense of the word, in over a month. And he says he's coming home after the wedding, but after such a long time apart, I doubt he actually will."
"You're definitely right about that," Hermione told him thoughtfully. "Knowing Draco the way he is now, he'll probably find some excuses to stay with Pansy and Blaise even after the wedding."
"So how can you make sure that doesn't happen?" Ron asked, furrowing his brow in concentration.
Harry was quiet for a minute and then shook his head. "I don't know. He says he doesn't feel like he can be my husband right now. What could I possibly do to change that?"
"That's it!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes lighting up in a way that reminded Harry of how she used to look when she knew the correct answer to a question their professor was asking. "It's so obvious to me now. Of course he can't be can't be your husband!"
The brunet man narrowed his eyes at her. "What are you suggesting? That I divorce him?"
Hermione shook her head frantically. "No, no, don't be ridiculous, Harry. But just think of it this way: how would you feel if you woke up tomorrow and realized you were married to... to Blaise Zabini?" Harry's entire face distorted in disgust and Hermione laughed and continued, "Exactly. That must have been how Draco felt that very first day in the hospital. Then he got used to you, but not as his husband, since you were keeping your distance."
"I thought that's what you said I was supposed to do," Harry reminded her, unsure of what she was trying to tell him.
"You were! If you had made a move too early, you would have made him uncomfortable, and probably angry. He would have left a long time ago. But since you didn't, he wasn't thinking of your relationship as a marriage, probably more like a roommate or a friend, you see?"
Harry eyed her skeptically and answered, "Uh, yeah, I suppose so."
"So what's the first step from friend to something more?" Hermione asked, eyes bright and excited. The men stared at her in complete silence, glancing at each other and shrugging.
"A kiss?" Harry guessed. "But we've already done that. It's kind of what caused this whole mess in the first place."
"No, before that!" Hermione persisted.
Ron groaned. "I'm getting really tired of this whole twenty questions business. Just go on and tell us what he has to do already."
Hermione turned to glare at her husband before grinning at Harry. "You have to ask him on a date."
"A date?" Harry and Ron echoed simultaneously.
"Yes, a date. Where you take him out to a nice restaurant, pay for his meal, hold his hand and all of that? Ever heard of it?" The girl joked with both men. She sighed at their blank stares. "Look, how is he ever going to be ready to be your husband if you don't show him that side of you? Last night must have been strange for him, and probably alarming. I'm not surprised he ran off like he did today. But if you take him out on a proper date, maybe he'll be able to picture himself with you in that way. Get him readjusted to life with you as his husband, instead of just his roommate."
Harry blinked at her owlishly for so long that she was actually becoming uncomfortable. "That's absolutely brilliant!" He told her finally. "I don't know why I didn't think of that myself."
"Because you're not a genius like my wife," Ron stated, staring at Hermione proudly. She turned a bit pink and smiled, enjoying the praise.
"I'll go over to Pansy's and ask him on a date. All I have to do is pray that he says yes," Harry mumbled, mostly to himself. He was excited about the idea, but equally as nervous. What if Draco said no? Not only would that be devastating, but that might actually set them back even further, if that was even possible.
He stood up and sighed. "Okay, well, here I go. For some reason I never thought I would have to ask out my husband on a first date ever again."
"Wait, you can't go yet, mate," Ron insisted. "You got here barely a half hour ago. You've got to let him miss you a little, or he'll think you're not giving him his space."
"But if you wait too long, he might have already made up his mind that he has to be alone for now," Hermione warned.
Harry glanced between the two. "So… tomorrow, then?" he asked.
Hermione thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, tomorrow. The day after tomorrow at the latest."
"Alright, then." Harry bit the inside of his cheek nervously and checked the time. It was almost ten. "I'd better get to work. Thank you guys for your advice. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Hermione rushed forward to hug him. "Of course, Harry."
Ron stepped forward to pat his shoulder and then wrap an arm around his wife. "Let us know how it goes. And tell Dean I'll be in at twelve."
And with that, Harry left, knowing fully well that he would get very little work done while he was so distracted figuring out how he was going to ask his husband out on a proper date for the first time.
Or, well, for the second time.
Draco glanced around the guest bedroom, feeling slightly out of place despite the familiarity of it all. It felt much more like the Malfoy Manor than Potter's house had, all expensive white carpets and polished wooden surfaces, but over the past month or so he had grown quite used to the cozy apartment he shared with Harry. They were both comfortable to him in different ways, so he couldn't quite point his finger to which style he preferred.
He was already all unpacked, so he sat down on his bed, sinking into the plush beige comforter. He was just looking around at the scarce decorations when he heard a knock at the door. He stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes before walking over and opening the door.
Blaise stood there smiling at him, tall and handsome as ever. "All settled in?" he asked.
"Yeah, I am," Draco answered, stepping back to allow Blaise to enter. "I just finished unpacking."
"That's great," Blaise said, somewhat distractedly. He walked over and sat on his bed, gesturing for Draco to sit next to him.
"You know," he said as Draco walked back to the bed. "Me and Pansy were excited when you asked to stay with us, of course, but I'm just curious. Did something happen with Potter? Did he hurt you?"
Draco flushed as images from the night before came flooding back to him, memories that he had been skillfully avoiding facing all day. "No, he hasn't done anything wrong."
"So why did you need to get out of the house so badly? You sounded pretty desperate this morning, no offense." Blaise raised his hands in defense and smirked.
The blond shook his head. "None taken. Not my proudest moment. But I assure you, he hasn't harmed me or anything of the sort. In fact, I was the one who almost hurt him." He thought back with a grimace to that morning, when he pulled his wand on Harry like some sort of… angry teenager. It was exactly something he would have done when he and Harry were both sixteen, but things were so very different now, and he knew it had been uncalled for. Blaise raised an eyebrow and seemed slightly judgmental, but didn't comment so Draco sighed and continued, "I'm just confused. I need some time without him to get myself back to who I was."
"And how do you think you're going to figure out who you were without his help?" Blaise asked.
"Oh, so now you're rooting for Potter?" Draco asked defensively. "I got by without him when I was younger, I can do it again now."
"I'm not saying that you aren't independent, Draco," Blaise backtracked, "I'm just saying that he knows you better than anyone else. If anyone could help you figure out who you were, it would be him."
Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. "So you don't think I should have come?" he asked, wondering if he could have made a mistake by leaving home.
"That's not exactly what I'm saying either."
"Well make up your mind Zabini, you're giving me a headache."
Blaise laughed and elbowed Draco playfully. "Look, all I know is that you married that man for a reason. Pansy and I didn't like it at the time, and we still don't completely understand it, but you and Harry Potter are meant to be together. So just let the pieces fall where they may, everything will work out in the end."
Draco huffed and fell back onto the back. "How do you know?"
Blaise had to turn to look at Draco as he asked, "Have I ever steered you wrong before?" Draco lifted his head to stare doubtfully at Blaise. "Nevermind, don't answer that," the latter man decided. They laughed and Blaise stood up and kicked Draco's feet. "Just trust me. Now get up and make yourself useful. There's a lot of preparation that needs to be done for next weekend."
The blond groaned as he lifted himself out of bed. "You know, when I said that I was going to be helping you guys get ready for the wedding, it was mostly just an excuse. You don't actually have to put me to work, Zabini."
"Oh, yes, I do." Blaise grinned and grabbed Draco by the wrist, dragging him out of the bedroom to do Merlin knew how many menial tasks.
After half an hour of listening to Pansy debate with herself over which kind of wood she wanted the chairs to be made of, Draco began to seriously doubt whether he had made the right decision about leaving.