A/n: Guess who kept their promise and updated! Yes, yes, I love you too ahaha. Anyway you guys, I'm super excited about this chapter and I CANNOT CONTAIN MYSELF AGH which is why I just couldn't help but post this right away. It's one of my fav chapters so far, and read on to see why!
Arty xx
Chapter 29
Sealed with a-
[November 25 2011]
5:07 PM
Harry watched nervously as Draco scrutinised the list, his silver eyes moving back and forth as he read, his brows pinched together in a small frown. Although it was a rather lengthy list, he felt like Draco had been poring over it for an inordinately long time. At one point, the blond pulled off his reading glasses and placed the tip of one of the temples in the corner of his mouth, perhaps unknowingly, as he paused in his reading and stared hard at the piece of parchment.
He found himself focused on Draco's mouth before he knew it, and he couldn't help but wonder if the blond even realised that he was biting on his spectacles' temple. Harry knew that the other man was sort of a neat freak—the spacious office was always impeccably clean, and every single thing on his desk was organised according to colour or size or importance—and he had seen Draco look displeased if he ever found a speck of dirt or a blot of ink anywhere. So the fact that the blond had something that wasn't supposed to be there in his mouth led Harry to conclude that he was doing it unconsciously.
These were things Harry found himself noticing every time he came to see Draco, and now that the two were friends, he found a constant need to learn every small quirk or habit of the blond. He wasn't sure why; it may have something to do with Harry's sense of guilt for never really trying to understand the man, not only when they were kids, but also in recent years, and pinning Draco with his own half-baked assumptions of him. Sure, he had been a git, but seeing the person Draco was now, Harry couldn't help but feel that there could've been so much more to the blond that he had never known of, even back in their Hogwarts days.
It was somehow similar to when he had first met Hermione. She had been a bossy, condescending know-it-all who was a right pain in the arse, but he had come to find a best friend in her, and only because he had given her the benefit of the doubt; to show him that there was more to her than the snobbish bookworm that he had thought she was. Perhaps, just perhaps, if had given Draco the same chance back then…
"Harry?"
He jerked up, drawn from his thoughts by Draco calling his name, and cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
The blond smiled, instantly making the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end. I just can't seem to get used to that bewitching smile of his, he grumbled internally as Draco began to speak.
"I see you've put a lot of thought into this," Draco said, tapping the parchment. "This is quite an extensive list." Harry nodded as he clutched the ends of the armrests, nervous anticipation thrumming through him. "But I also noticed that a lot of everyday objects lying around the place or mundane situations seem to be noted down as associated triggers."
"Well," Harry began, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants, "it's not that they actually trigger memories every time I look at them, but I guess sometimes if I happen to be brooding over something, and the situation is similar to a bad one from the past, I end up associating the two together. Does that make sense?"
Draco hummed in thought. "Is that how you came up with this list? The more you thought about it, the more things came to mind?"
Harry nodded. "That's pretty much exactly what happened, yeah."
"Well, then I don't think most of this stuff are actually triggers." Draco rose from the armchair and came to sit on the sofa adjacent to where Harry was sitting. He looked towards Harry and patted the place next to him. "How about we go over this list again? And this time, I'll help you eliminate some of the things so that we can narrow it down."
"Er, sure." He rose from his seat and moved over to sit beside Draco. Their arms brushed against each other as he sat, and a jolt shot through him. He felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck at how self-conscious he was being, but the moment their shoulders touched by accident, Draco flinched away, making Harry feel less stupid.
It's not just me, he thought, and that made him feel a whole lot better.
Draco cleared his throat and held the parchment out in-between them. He pointed at one of the things at the very top of the list. "This. Have you ever found yourself picking up or wearing a dark cloak and ending up thinking of…" the blond paused, and then finished in a soft, almost tentative voice, "Death Eaters?"
Harry nodded, wondering if Draco was reminded of Death Eaters every time he wore a dark cloak, too. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen him wearing one…
As though in reply to Harry's thoughts, Draco said softly, "Me too."
Was that why he preferred to wear light colours?
Harry turned to fix wide, surprised eyes on the blond, but Draco continued on without pausing—although, Harry noticed, his cheeks seemed a little flushed—as he put a small check mark beside the serial number before moving on to the next one. "What about this? How often do you take a detour through an alleyway when it's raining and find yourself reminded of the Chamber of Secrets?"
Harry shrugged. "Not very often, but it hashappened a few times. It doesn't even have to be raining—just a dank, dark alleyway with pipes running along the walls or floor, or the sound of water dripping is enough to—" he broke off, waving a hand.
Draco nodded, putting another small check mark beside the serial number. As he moved on to another one a few numbers down, Harry inhaled deeply and focused on the blond's soothing voice, unwilling to let his idle mind conjure up chilling images from memories he had no intention of remembering.
6:53 PM
"That was a rather productive session, wouldn't you say?"
Harry nodded as he pulled on his coat. "It really was very enlightening." For the both of us, he added to himself.
Draco smiled and offered Harry his hand. "I shall see you next week, then. Monday?"
"Wait, you won't be home tomorrow?"
The blond rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips tugging upwards in a typical Malfoy smirk. "I meant here, Harry. For our next session. At least play along with the whole formality thing, won't you?"
"Right," Harry replied, his mouth suddenly dry. Another thing he wasn't yet used to: Draco calling him by his first name. There was just something about the way the blond said his name that made Harry feel…odd. The good sort, obviously, but still.
"Astoria said you'd be coming over after lunch?" Draco asked, distracting Harry from his weird thoughts.
He nodded. "Probably around late afternoon, yeah. I have some work that needs to be taken care of, first."
"Alright."
Harry cleared his throat and reached up to grab a fistful of Floo powder from the bowl on the mantle. Just as he was about to step into the fireplace, though, Draco grabbed his arm. Harry paused with one foot in the air and turned to Draco curiously. The moment he looked into stormy grey eyes, he knew something was wrong and stepped back.
"What is it?" he asked, tensing involuntarily.
"Are you," Draco began, paused, and then continued, "Are you sure you'll be all right?"
"With what?" Harry asked before he could stop himself, despite knowing exactly what the blond was referring to.
Draco sighed and shook his head, withdrawing his arm. "No, it's nothing. Forget I said anything."
This time, Harry was the one to grab the other man's arm. He loosened his hold on Draco's wrist when the latter winced and said in a soft voice, "Tell me."
The blond didn't reply at first, and Harry let go of his wrist, feeling conscious about the fact that he was touching the other man. Draco slowly looked up at Harry, his conflict clear in his dark eyes. "The Manor," he said, his voice sounding strangled, "I know how much—" he broke off and shook his head, suddenly looking helpless. "I just want to make sure—"
"Draco," Harry interrupted, his voice firm. "The reason I'm here, standing before you, having this conversation, is solely because I want to. I'm sick and tired of running away. I've been doing that for two decades, and we both know that no good has come out of it. So now I've decided not to run away any more."
Draco didn't look too convinced, so Harry continued. "Sure, I never imagined that I would ever have another opportunity to go back to that place again, but neither did I imagine, even in my wildest dreams, that there would come a day when you and I are friends. Besides," he smiled as he reached his free hand up to grab the other man's shoulder and squeeze it. "I won't have to see this through on my own."
The blond's relief was so obvious when he exhaled and relaxed, a small smile on his face, that Harry found himself easing his tense posture as well. Draco had looked just as tormented about the whole thing as Harry had felt, making the latter realise that this visit would undoubtedly help not just him, but Draco as well.
"You know," he said slowly, a small lump having formed in his throat, "I really am glad that we're friends."
The smile Draco gave him had to be the brightest, gentlest, and most genuine one he had seen on the man's face yet. "Me too." He straightened his shoulders and raised his chin. "Me too."
Harry smiled, and with a final nod and goodbye, turned back and stepped into the fireplace. He threw down the Floo powder and said, "The Potter residence," and as the green flames shot up and enveloped him, he saw Draco mouth something through the haze.
It was only later that night, after he had brooded over it endlessly, that he realised what the two words the blond had said were.
Thank you.
[November 26 2011]
4:09 PM
"I'm not going anywhere, so come straight home if anything happens."
He sighed as he let his wife fiddle with the lapels of his coat and repeat herself for the dozenth time that day. "Ginny, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine. And besides, I trust that I can take care of both Al and myself even if anything does happen. I've been an Auror for years and have defeated a Dark Lord, the least you can do is have a little faith in me."
Ginny stepped back, crossed her arms, and huffed. "I do have faith in you. It's the others that I'm worried about."
He rolled his eyes. "You have said yourself that Astoria is a nice person—"
"That was before I found out that she had hid the fact that she's Malfoy's wife from me!"
"—and I honestly doubt Draco—Malfoy will attack me, or our son. So just relax. Everything is going to be fine."
He waited with bated breath, wondering if Ginny had caught his blunder—really, addressing Draco by his first name was probably the stupidest thing he could do in that situation, or any situation, even if he had covered it up by adding in his last name—but she didn't seem to have noticed. After a moment she nodded, looking defeated. "You're right. I'm just being unnecessarily paranoid, sorry."
Reaching over, he pulled her into a hug and sighed. "I know you're worried, and probably rightfully so, but I have a feeling I'm just going to go there and spend a few hours awkwardly staring at the wall and not knowing what to do with myself while Al has a gala of a time." He stepped back and smiled down at her. "So stop worrying. We'll be fine."
She nodded and returned his smile, albeit tentatively. "Alright. Well, I better go tell Al that you're ready to leave."
"And I'll check and make sure the Floo's been connected," he called as she walked out the door, hollering for Albus.
Taking some of the shimmering, green powder, he threw it into the fireplace and stuck his head in. He waited, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead, and a moment later, the logs sizzled, and Draco's smiling face appeared in the embers.
"Hey," Harry said softly, unable to hide his grin. He felt like a boy doing something secretly behind his parents' back, feeling the thrill of anticipation run through him at the fear of being caught.
"Hi," Draco replied, and his eyes seemed to shimmer—although that could've been the trick of the light from the flickering flames. "Everything's set from my end."
"Fantastic. We'll be there as soon as—"
"I'm here!" Albus announced as he raced into the room, cutting Harry off, his excitement palpable.
Harry chuckled as he turned back to Draco and said, "Well, see you on the other side, then."
As he pulled his head out, Ginny walked up to him, a curious frown on her face. "Who was that?"
"Scorpius," Harry lied easily as he checked the straps on Albus's backpack, which was full of toys the boy wanted to take to play with Scorpius. "All set, Al?
"All set!"
"Right-y ho, here we go," he said as he leaned over his son to peck Ginny on the lips, who eyed him with an odd expression on her face as she said her goodbyes to them. Toning down his sudden bout of enthusiasm, he ushered Albus into the fireplace and ducked in after him, barely having a moment to secure is son's limbs close together as the world spun around them.
They all but toppled out of the fireplace, and were greeted by Scorpius's energetic cries of delight. Astoria and Draco stood a little away, amused smiles on their faces as they watched the two boys run around in circles.
Clearing his throat, Harry stepped around the elated duo and stood in front of Draco and his wife. He nodded to Astoria first, smiling as she offered him her hand, which he shook once. "Hullo. Nice to see you again."
"The pleasure is mine," she said, her voice kind, and her smile genuine. Then, as though noticing something that Harry hadn't, she made a little sound of exclamation and called to the two boys, who immediately raced past her and out of the room, Scorpius excitedly describing his potions set to Albus. "Well, I shall make sure the two of them don't lose their way in their eagerness," she said as she excused herself and exited the room—but not before shooting a knowing smile her husband's way.
Ignoring what had just happened, Harry finally turned to Draco as he broke into a grin. "Hi," he said, and the blond's eyes glittered with mirth, his lips widening in a smile.
"Hi yourself. You seem just as excited to be here as your son does," Draco said as he held out his hand.
Harry took it instantly and shook it, tightening his grip on the other man's fingers for a moment before letting go. "What can I say? His enthusiasm was infectious."
"I'm sure," Draco replied as he motioned to the door. "How about I give you a little tour of the manor? Just to kill some time."
Harry was too caught up in the moment to notice the hint of anxiousness in Draco's eyes or the way his smile faltered in the slightest when Harry nodded and fell into step beside the blond. He felt the sense of anticipation thrum through his veins and make his heart race. It wasn't even in fear of what was to come; it was more of just the thrill of being able to be with Draco like this, in Malfoy Manor, in a situation that was completely unlike the last time he had been here—or any time he had spent with the man, for that matter.
He wasn't even sure why he was feeling like he would take off running any moment now, if it weren't for the man beside him and the bit of willpower he had left. It was like the thrill of doing something that he knew was dangerous, but greatly enjoyable, nonetheless. Like the jolt of exhilaration that passed through him when he was on his Firebolt, zooming across the Quidditch Pitch, hot on the tail of a Snitch.
The realisation hit him belatedly: was this something he had always wantedwithout even knowing it himself?
Perhaps, his rational mind told him. Or perhaps it's just the prospect of being able to further solidify the path leading away from the past.
"Well," Draco said, drawing him out of his thoughts as they came to a stop at the foot of a pair of enormous double doors. "This is it." He glanced sideways at Harry, the uncertainty that was swimming in his grey eyes quelling any sense of apprehension in Harry. "Ready?"
He turned to eye the doors, his heart thundering in his chest. "Yes," he said, but even as the words left his mouth, he reached out to grab Draco's hand—needing to reassure himself rather than wanting to—and almost would have, if reason hadn't made him stop short and mentally berate himself.
Just before Draco stepped forwards, though, Harry felt cool fingers brush against his own, almost as if the blond has been reaching for him as well, and his breath caught in his throat. He watched the doors swing open ever so slowly without the slightest creak or groan, and as Draco stepped into the glimmering light of the chandelier overhead, Harry knew—he felt it deep in his bones—that the moment he crossed the threshold, his life would change forevermore.
Little did he know how right he was.
5:15 PM
They sat on the plush sofas, sipping on their wine in silence. Harry's heart was beating a mile a minute, and every time his eyes flitted around the spacious drawing room, all he could see was Hermione on the floor, with Bellatrix on top of her, the former's screams echoing in his ears. He had to swallow thickly and look away to forget the horrific images, but the distraction only lasted so long.
"Are you alright?" Draco asked him for the dozenth time, and Harry replied with a, "Yes, I am," for the dozenth time.
He quickly downed his glass and watched as it magically refilled, the wine in the bottle slowly decreasing till it was all gone. Taking another sip, he sighed and tried to ease his tense posture, but to no avail.
"We changed the wallpaper," Draco said idly after a moment, and Harry's eyes lifted to stare at the grey-coloured walls with white and silver creepers adorning it. "But you probably don't remember what colour they used to be, do you?" Draco continued, shaking his head, as though chastising himself for being foolish.
"What colour were they?" Harry asked anyway, simply to prolong the conversation and distract himself.
"Royal purple."
Harry hummed. "Why'd you change it?"
Draco's shoulder brushed against his as the man shrugged. Why're we sitting so close together? Harry wondered briefly as the blond began to speak. It was almost as though they had unconsciously moved closer, needing the comfort. "Astoria thought it looked far too dark and dreary for a drawing room. We changed the drapes, too, and keep them open all the time, now. It's more well-lit and comfortable, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed, knowing Draco was just rambling on for both their sakes. He dropped his gaze to his wineglass as he swirled the dark liquid around, watching the ripples that formed across the surface as a stray thought flitted through his mind. He tossed it back and forth in his head, the warmth of the wine dulling his senses as he opened his mouth to speak. "Draco," he began, his voice low, "how did you feel… back then?"
There was a long silence from the other man, and Harry inhaled deeply before taking a large gulp of the wine. Shouldn't have asked that, he scolded himself as he chanced a glance at the blond.
Draco had a faraway look in his eyes as he stared straight ahead, as though he was reliving that night all over again. The corners of his mouth were down turned, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. After a long moment, the blond raised his glass and tilted his head back, finishing the wine in one gulp. He then leaned forwards and tapped a full bottle in the case on the table—they had picked up a whole case of Draco's finest wine when they were down in the cellars, for the sake of moral support—and the cork popped out. He then tapped his glass, and it refilled all the way to the brim. After taking another long sip, he set his glass down with a sigh and turned to Harry.
"Would you like to see?"
Harry immediately shook his head no, a heavy lump forming in his throat, making it hard to breathe. Draco bowed his head and leaned back, looking somewhat defeated, but Harry grabbed his arm, making him turn to eye Harry curiously. "Yes," Harry said, his voice sounding choked, but Draco was the one to shake his head this time.
"You don't have to if you don't want to."
"Will it help if I do?" Harry questioned, somehow feeling like the answer to that question was the solution to everything.
A myriad of emotions shimmered in Draco's now dark eyes, but conflict was the most predominant one. Harry tightened his grip on Draco's arm. He felt desperate, almost. It was like they had reached an impasse, and what happened next could effectively make or break their rather frail friendship. I can't afford that, he thought. I've come this far. I can't fail now, or everything would've been for nothing.
"Draco," Harry pressed. "Will it help?"
The blond swallowed thickly, his eyes looking suspiciously moist. "Maybe," he choked out, and Harry nodded, steeling himself.
"Then show me."
"But—what if—"
"Show me," Harry urged, feeling like his resolve would slip away at any moment.
Draco nodded once. "Alright."
They each turned halfway so they were seated facing each other, and Harry pulled out his wand. Staring into Draco's eyes, he awaited the other man's permission, and when he got a small nod of confirmation, he pointed his wand at Draco and whispered, "Legilimens."
He was being sucked into a vortex, images that were clippings from various memories swirling around and above him till they crashed down on him. The wisps of colour solidified, but they were bleaker and more washed out than he had expected. It was the colour of suppressed memories—the colour of pain.
Glancing to his right, he saw Draco. The blond's face was twisted in a grimace, as though he was the one being tortured, and beside him stood Lucius, a none-too-reassuring expression on his face. Harry could feel Draco's fear palpitating in his veins, like it were his own. He watched as seventeen-year-old Draco opened his mouth, faltering as he began to speak. "I—I can't be sure."
Lucius grabbed his son by the shoulder and came close, an anxious smile on his face, as he said, "Look closely, son. If we were to hand over Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, all would be forgiven. Everything would be as it was, do you understand?"
Draco nodded and swallowed as someone spoke from behind them—a voice that made Harry's skin crawl. "Now, we're not forgetting who actually caught him, I hope… Mr Malfoy."
Lucius sneered as he lashed out at Greyback. "You dare to talk to me like that in my own house?!"
Narcissa was by her husband's side in an instant, trying to pacify him. She pulled him away, leaving Harry and Draco to turn to look at the two people in front of them.
Bellatrix forced the boy to his knees, grabbing his hair to pull his head back, his face so swollen that only one of his eyes was barely visible, as she said, "Don't be shy, sweetie. Now, come over and take a good look. If this isn't who we think it is and we call Him, Draco, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure."
She ushered Draco forwards, her voice almost soothing and gentle, and Harry swallowed thickly as he watched the younger version of himself look up at Draco as the blond knelt down. Bellatrix was still cooing reassurances, but Harry could only hear a shrill ringing in his ears as he watched the two boys stare into each other's eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt like he had broken out in cold sweat, even though he knew it wasn't possible.
"What's wrong with his face?" Draco asked, and Bellatrix echoed his question. Greyback answered, but Harry couldn't really hear anything beyond the ringing. Bellatrix said something and let go of younger Harry's hair, striding forward as she kept speaking.
Harry wanted to look over his shoulder, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. His younger self and Draco were still staring at each other, and it seemed as though a silent communication passed between them. As though his younger self was asking Draco not to do it, while Draco himself did not seem to want to go through with it. Narcissa then came and pulled Draco aside, and Harry took the opportunity to glance back, watching with a detached sense of fury as Bellatrix rampaged about, knocking the Snatchers off their feet as she brandished her wand in one hand and Gryffindor's Sword in another.
"Get out!" she screeched before turning to her sister and ordering her to send Ron and younger Harry to the cellars. She rounded on Hermione, and Harry felt his blood run cold. He clenched his fists but felt no pain; everything he could feel were only what Draco had felt in that moment, and just then, Draco was feeling a heightened sense of fear and anxiety at what would transpire.
Then the screaming started.
Bellatrix had pushed Hermione to the ground and was sitting on top of her as she interrogated her. Hermione was sobbing, begging, pleading to be let go, but Bellatrix only turned to carve into her skin the one word that Hermione hated the most.
Harry bared his teeth, yearning to save Hermione, needing to save her from the torture, but he couldn't. He was rooted to the spot beside a whimpering Draco, who seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Do something!" he screamed at Draco, reaching out to grab him, only to have his hands pass through the boy. "Do something, goddamnit!"
Draco had his teeth clenched, and it looked like he was struggling to get out of his mother's hold, but she had a tight grip on him. Harry swivelled around, shouting, screaming, wanting to do something, anything. Hermione's screams rivalled his own, but just as she quieted, he did as well, because a realisation had dawned on him.
These were Draco's memories. These were Draco's emotions. This was Draco's pain, helplessness, and conflict. This was Draco's frustration and anger at being unable to do anything. It was all Draco's, not Harry's.
That realisation numbing him temporarily, he watched as Peter Pettigrew clambered up the stairs of with Griphook in tow. Bellatrix must have ordered for the goblin to be brought up when he wasn't paying attention. She then began to question him about the sword, while Harry helplessly watched a weeping Hermione lie on the floor, a thin trail of blood running down from the wound on her arm.
The ringing was still in his ears, but accompanied with it was an overwhelming multitude of emotions, making him choke up, unable to breathe.
A moment later, his younger self and Ron burst into the room, and he watched as Narcissa and Draco, the two closest to the stairs, swivelled around, wands brandished in front of them. A swift duel between the two pairs ensued, and Harry felt like he would explode from how fast his heart was beating and how overwhelmed he was by everything.
"Stop it!" yelled Bellatrix, and younger Harry and Ron stopped as they looked past Harry to where Bellatrix had Hermione with a knife against her throat. He didn't have to look back to see it; he knew exactly what was happening from the countless number of times he'd replayed it in his head.
Bellatrix then commanded his younger self and Ron to put down their wands, and for Draco to pick them up. He watched as his younger self's swollen face began to return to normal as the stinging jinx's effects wore off, and Bellatrix cackled, commanding that someone call the Dark Lord.
Several eyes turned to Draco, who simply returned their stares with his own fearful one. Harry could feel the intensity of Draco's emotions. He didn't want to call Voldemort there. He just wanted it all to end. He just wanted Harry and the rest to escape and leave, so he wouldn't have to witness any more deaths.
Harry watched as the chandelier came crashing down, and as it hit the ground, the memory dissolved, and he was cast out of Draco's mind.
He was panting, one hand clutching his wand so tightly he could've snapped it in two, the other one clutching his chest. He stared at Draco, stunned, overcome by emotion, confused, and gasping for breath. The blond was staring right back at him, his silver eyes wide and tears running down his cheeks. His mouth was open, as though he was trying to say something but couldn't.
The wine coupled with the intensity of the memory made Harry reach out without thinking and pull Draco against him. The two men just sat there, their heads against each other's shoulders, both too overwhelmed by what had happened to care that they were all but embracing.
Draco finally pulled away as he swiped his sleeve across his cheeks and sniffed softly. He then cleared his throat, looking around awkwardly, like he wanted to do something but didn't know what. Harry simply continued to stare at Draco as he tried to wrap his mind around everything he had felt and witnessed.
He had known since the beginning that Draco had been forced down the path of a Death Eater and that he had been as much a victim of Voldemort's terror as Harry—perhaps even more—but he had always viewed the blond as having been too much of a coward to hold his own and put up a fight.
Maybe he had been. But just looking at the blond's face now, Harry knew that nobody regretted their actions more than Draco did. Nobody hated him as much as he himself did. And that was something that pained Harry.
Draco had never been given a chance. Perhaps if Harry had offered him a hand in friendship instead of loathing him and spiting him and being suspicious of him all the time, maybe things would've been different. Maybe the blond would've had someone to help him and support him and save him from his cruel fate. Maybe Draco wouldn't have had to go through what he had gone through.
He shook his head, tears burning at the back of his eyes as he swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry," he said in a ragged whisper, and Draco immediately fixed stormy grey eyes on him.
"…Why?" he breathed, and Harry shook his head again.
"If I had just—"
Draco reached over to press his fingers against Harry's mouth, quieting him. "No." He shook his head. "No."
Harry felt like someone had reached into his chest, grabbed his heart, and was squeezing it tight. He was in so much pain, even though he wasn't physically injured. His heart bled for the man before him and the tragedy that had befallen him for no fault of his own. Draco had simply been swept into a whirlpool of things that were out of his control. While Harry had had the opportunity to make his own choices and friends to support him through his decisions, Draco was being pulled farther and farther into the vortex of darkness.
I could've saved him.
He pulled Draco's fingers away with the intention of apologising again, but no sooner had he opened his mouth, the blond leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry's.
It took him several seconds to realise what had happened, and several more to un-freeze himself and move. His first reaction was to push Draco away, but even as he reached his hand up, he only clasped it around the blond's neck and pulled him closer.
Neither of them knew what they were doing. It was a stupid, impulsive move that they would later blame on the alcohol and their emotions going haywire thanks to their little revisitation of the past, but just then, everything that had gone unsaid for so many years—all the apologies, all the long-forgotten words, all the missed chances, all of it—came together in that moment and exploded like fireworks, in the form of one passionate kiss.
And that was it. Their destinies had been sealed. Sealed with a kiss.
A/n: *runs around screaming* I know I'm the one that wrote this BUT AHHHHH so much fangirling lol. Now you know why I couldn't contain myself. I mean FINALLY! God, even I was starting to get sick of how long it was taking.
I would apologise for the fact that this was a slightly longer chapter, but I don't think anybody cares lol because FINALLY DRARRY YAY! *smooshes Draco and Harry plushies together* cannot with this excitement rn.
Anyway, I hope I have fulfilled all you guys's wishes! This chapter was sorta a rollercoaster ride of emotions for both Drarry and us, so go take a break while I write the next one.
Do review and let me know if you're fangirl/boying as hard as I am right now!
Thanks for reading. Lots of love,
Arty xxxx
