Draco didn't hear from Harry for three straight days after that.
Harry didn't speak a word to him in Potions, he ducked his head when Draco scanned for him at meals, and he averted eye contact when Draco passed him in the hall.
It was agonizing.
The worst part was, Draco didn't know what he'd done wrong aside from letting go of Harry's hand, which he'd already apologized for. Was Harry still hurt by the action and just not talking about it?
Of course he is, you ponce. You utter, fucking wanker.
Draco was supposed to be there for Harry when it mattered, and he'd let him down.
On the sunny morning of day three, Draco scanned the Gryffindor table as per usual while shoveling spoonfuls of oatmeal into his mouth.
"Looking for Potter, darling?" asked Pansy.
Draco sighed, swallowing before responding. "There's no use. He doesn't want to see me."
"Did you two get in a row? Because I know how you get, and I wouldn't want to be around you fresh after one, either."
"Whose side are you on?"
"Maybe Potter's afraid to be seen with you, and wants to cut you off before things progress further," said Greg.
"Of course he's afraid to be seen with me. Bloody hypocrite confronting me about being ashamed . . ."
"He's not ashamed, Draco. He's scared, which is completely different. This is out of his element. He's never been with a man before," said Pansy, stroking Draco's shoulder. "You have the vantage point in every possible way."
"How is that true?" asked Draco. "Aside from me being more experienced with men, how is that true?"
"He's Harry Potter. He's the famous one. He can have anyone he wants, but he's choosing you."
"You're bloody brilliant for reminding me, you know that," Draco spat sarcastically.
"That's exactly my point. Maybe he's afraid that you only see him for the hero he was in the war. He's had your back quite a few times this semester."
"I remember," Draco seethed.
"You've got to confront him and tell him you don't just see him as a hero," said Greg. "Potter's all talk. He's not as tough as he'd like to have people think. You need to tell him these things."
"Since when do you know him so well?" asked Draco.
"I don't have to know him."
"So you're saying I've done a poor job at conveying how much he really means to me?"
"We're not saying that, love," said Pansy. "You could have done a fabulous job, and it still not be enough for him because it seems like he's insecure, and insecure people tend to avoid. He's avoiding you right now because he isn't secure in how you feel about him."
"I made it pretty fucking clear how I felt about him."
"It's going to take time for him to trust you," said Pansy. "I mean, you bullied him for seven years straight-"
"I thought we were past that," Draco said coldly.
"You might be. Maybe he's not."
"He should talk to me about this. Not keep it bottled up."
"You're one to talk about keeping things bottled up," chortled Blaise. Draco glared at him nastily.
"The bottom line is, if you want Potter, you're going to have to fight for him," said Pansy.
"I shouldn't fucking have to.."
"There's the attitude," Pansy said with a roll of her eyes.
Draco wanted to bury his head in his oatmeal and never come out.
"I agree that he's being unfair by avoiding you right now, but if you want answers you have to go seek them," said Pansy.
"Why?" asked Draco. "He's made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me, so it would be better if I left it alone." He didn't really mean that. He was only saying that. He wanted his friends to protest and goad him into speaking to Harry, because he didn't want to be the only one that wanted to do it.
"And you've made it pretty clear you aren't over it, so man up and do something about it," said Pansy.
Draco didn't want to admit it, but he knew deep down she was right. But was he willing to sacrifice his pride for it? Absolutely not.
Later that day, Harry was in the common room by himself, minding his merry business, when Pansy Parkinson strolled up to him and plopped down in the chair across from him without an invitation. Not that he owned the chair, for Christ's sake. But her crassness was disconcerting as it was intimidating.
"So," she began, tapping her black boot on the stony tile.
"Parkinson," Harry greeted. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I'm going to cut right to it, for both our sakes," said Parkinson.
Harry gestured for her to continue.
"What are your intentions with Draco?"
Harry wanted to deep dive into the lake out front right about now.
"What are you, his mother?" he asked, and judging by the quick devolution of her facial expression those were the wrong words to speak.
"Excuse me? Well, not that it's any of your business because you can't seem bothered to give him the time of day anymore, but Draco's mother hardly writes to him, she's holed up in the Manor by herself for two more years and she doesn't even ask about his love life. Someone has to step up."
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized immediately. "That was rude of me, I-"
"Since I don't want to waste another moment of your precious time and surely you don't want to waste any more of it sitting with me, the best friend of your infamous rival, I'll keep it short."
"He's not my rival anymore," Harry said quietly.
Parkinson cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Could've fooled me, with the way you've been avoiding him. So tell me, you take him up on the Astronomy Tower and kiss him one night, and the next you sever all ties with him without so much as an 'I'm sorry'?"
"You have no idea why I'm doing what I'm doing," said Harry, although if he were being entirely honest with himself neither did he.
Pansy scoffed. "Enlighten me, then. Tell me you aren't doing this because you're afraid. Tell me you aren't running away because you're scared of what people will say about the hero of the wizarding world shacking up with some no-good Death Eater trash-"
"This isn't about that!" Harry roared thunderously, appalled that Parkinson would even accuse him of such nonsense.
"Okay. Then what is it about?" Parkinson crossed her legs, the tap-tap of her boot never stopping.
Harry drew in a deep breath and swallowed. "I need to tell him something, something huge. And . . . you're right. I am afraid. Of telling him."
Parkinson's face blossomed from something angry to something excited in a nanosecond.
"Oh, wow. Potter, you're telling me? Y-You should be telling Draco, you should be telling him right now-"
"I can't, okay?" Harry said in defeat, running a hand through his hair.
"Why ever the hell not?"
"Because it will make all this . . . Real."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I dunno," Harry confessed. "I thought it was. Now, I'm having second thoughts because . . . Because . . ."
"Because?"
"Because I'm afraid he won't love me back. There, alright? I said it. Are you happy now?"
Parkinson grinned. She grinned.
"Oh, this is lovely."
Harry wasn't above begging her not to tell Draco.
"Parkinson, if you could keep this between us that would be-"
"I will, for now," said Parkinson. "But you better get your shit together and tell Draco soon because that boy is mad over you. I dunno how you pass for a functioning person in society when you're missing all the cues he's given you that he loves you, too."
Harry's heart bloomed in excitement. "You really think he loves me?"
Parkinson scoffed. "You really are an idiot. Blimey, Potter, you'd be blind not to see it. It's written all over him."
"Oh, fuck." Harry put his head in his hands because he'd fucked up. Again.
"Yeah. Fuck is right."
"I need to find him."
"Yeah, I would, if I were in your shoes. But I'm not, so I just get to sit on the outside and relish in all the drama."
"Glad my love life is amusing to you, Parkinson," Harry snarled as he shoved a textbook into his book bag and slung the material over his shoulder. He stood up, dusted off his trousers, and smoothed out his hair.
"I can't watch this; this is pathetic," said Parkinson, standing up with him.
"Do you know where he might be?" Harry asked.
"I saw him heading for the library about an hour ago, with Blaise and Greg."
Harry nodded and fled the scene as gracefully as he could, which wasn't much.
When he reached the library, he scanned the room for the signature mop of white-blonde hair. He looked from one corner to the next, worry increasing each time he didn't come across who he was looking for. Finally, in the very far back corner, Harry spotted him.
Approaching the table, Harry felt his nerves racking up fast. He wanted a way to get Draco to agree to talk to him in private, but on the other hand witnesses might be important at this point in time.
Blaise Zabini saw him first. Not even bothering to stand up, he glared then swiveled to whisper something in Draco's ear. Draco rotated in his chair to face Harry, pale and cold as ever. He glared stonily.
"Potter," said Zabini. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
Harry deserved this. He deserved all of this. He'd carefully broken down Draco's walls, then caused him to spring them back up over night.
"Actually," he said, fixing his eyes directly on Draco, "I was hoping I could talk to you." Harry kept his tone calm as he could in spite of his racing heart. Because how could he be expected to keep calm with Draco looking at him like that?
"You can talk to him, we're not stopping you," said Goyle, knowing good and well Harry wanted to talk to him alone. It was infuriating.
"Alone," Harry reiterated.
Goyle and Zabini exchanged a look. Draco did not waver eye contact.
"And what could you possibly have to say to him alone?" Goyle asked. "He's gonna tell us, anyway, so you might as well just say it."
Harry dropped down in the open seat next to Draco so they could be at eye level.
"Draco," he began, reaching for his hand, but he was coldly and promptly swatted away.
"Okay," Harry said, masking the hurt he felt. "I deserved that."
Draco didn't react. "Could you make it quick?" he asked flatly, and Harry's heart about broke. "Because I am rather busy."
And Harry wanted to tell him, he wanted to tell him so badly, but he couldn't in front of Goyle and Zabini, now could he?
"Draco, if I could only borrow you for a moment-"
"Potter, if I wanted to talk to you alone, we'd be talking alone," Draco said coldly, and wow, they were back to Potter, and that hurt Harry more than anything else.
"I just- I don't know how to- Listen, I'm sorry, alright?"
Draco's gaze averted to his parchment. He picked up a pen and began to write, completely ignoring Harry. Baffled, Harry clenched his fists.
"Draco. I'm trying to talk to you."
He thought he heard a snort and a muttered "Great start" from Zabini.
Draco continued to ignore him, and Harry's anger at himself continued to fester.
"I fucked up. There is something I wanted to tell you, something that I've been wanting to tell you for a while, actually."
Draco's writing grew faster. The furious scrabbling of the pen on the parchment rang most unpleasantly in Harry's ears.
"Draco, I . . ."
The writing droned. And droned. And droned.
"Draco, I just want to-"
Louder. And louder.
"Oh, fuck it, you bastard, I love you!"
Dead silence settled over everyone like a curse. Harry could have heard a pin drop.
As if in slow motion, Harry watched Draco's writing utensil slip out of his hand and splatter ink on the parchment. Draco's head slowly rose, until he was facing Harry straight on and his eyes were widening to the size of saucers.
"Erm . . ." began Zabini. "I think I left something in my room. My Charms book. I forgot my Charms book. I'm going to go get it right now," he announced, staggering up and not even bothering to pack as Goyle copied his motions.
"I'll come with you," he said, and they scampered away like a pair of mice after a piece of cheese.
Harry returned his attention to Draco, who had frozen like a statue and turned white as a sheet.
"I love you," Harry repeated, "and I'm so sorry."
Draco scoffed. "What? And you expect me just to fall to my knees before you and forgive you now, Potter? Because you love me?"
Draco was making a mockery of Harry's words, and it hurt him very much.
"I said I was sorry," Harry said as evenly as he could, willing his eyes to stay dry at all costs. "I dunno what else you want me to-"
"How about not lying to me and then proceeding to avoid me for days on end?" Draco tapped his fingers on top of his parchment, impatiently awaiting a response.
"What's done is done, Draco," Harry said firmly. "There's no magic spell I can use to go and erase it. It happened. So we deal with it and we move on. Or, at least I want to. Do you?"
Draco shook his head, breathing heavily, pointing a finger at him. "Oh, you are not going to manipulate yourself out of this one, Potter! Not a chance. If you loved me, you would have never done what you did. You would have told me as soon as you could because your love for me would have trumped your fear. The truth is, you're afraid, and that fear is stronger than your love."
Harry had no idea what to say because Draco was right. Wasn't he? It was funny, how much he'd gotten onto Draco's case about being ashamed when he turned out to be the one who couldn't man up.
"And I don't want to be the one who makes you afraid to love," Draco breathed out, barely above a whisper.
"Draco, no." Harry couldn't help himself; he scooted closer and reached for Draco's hand again. This time, Draco let him take it.
"You do not make me afraid to love. I love you so damn much it makes me afraid of how much I love you."
"Well, I hope you're not expecting me to swoon over and immediately say it back."
And Harry didn't even want to joke about that. "Draco, I know I fucked up. But please, give me a chance to make things right. I love you, and I don't want to screw this up again."
And something clouded Draco's eyes as soon as Harry said those words, something mysterious and magical and not entirely scary. Harry had always been intimidated by Draco, but before him now, he saw a rawness and vulnerability Draco had never exposed him to before.
"You bloody bastard," Draco breathed. "I love you so much it hurts." And then his lips were on his and all was right with the world again.
Or, it would be if Draco continued kissing him like that. All teeth and too much tongue, like Draco was frantically clawing his way into Harry's mouth as quickly as he possibly could.
When they parted for air, Harry knew they were receiving stares but he couldn't have cared less if he tried.
"I love you," Harry said again, excited at how good the words felt rolling off his tongue.
Draco sighed, breath tickling Harry's face. Harry let a hand run through Draco's hair affectionately.
"This is . . . I never . . ." Draco stopped speaking to purr as Harry continued lazily
stroking Draco's hair.
"Like that, huh?" Harry chuckled.
"I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Draco said.
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, with the press and everything. If you're serious about me, they're gonna find out eventually."
"So let them find out." Harry rubbed Draco's hand softly, removing his hand from his hair. "I don't think I'm that afraid anymore."
"Just like that?" Draco asked uncertainly.
"You mean more to me than that," said Harry.
Draco smiled. "Wanna get out of here?"
"Absolutely."
Draco thanked all his lucky stars that his bedroom was empty. As soon as the coast was clear, Harry backed him onto his bed, hands rubbing softly up and down his sides.
Draco let himself fall back, pulling Harry on top of him. Harry smiled down at him, hands traveling upwards to cup his cheeks. Draco gasped as Harry kissed him again, all innocent and tender. Draco normally would have been begging for some semblance of roughness by now, but he found that this gentleness Harry adopted with him was . . . enjoyable.
And maybe it would change later once they got down to business.
For now, Draco relished in their closeness that had nothing to do with sex, how careful Harry was with him, how violently it contrasted with his relationship with Theo.
"You look like an angel, you know that?" Harry said, drawing Draco back to reality as he pressed a kiss in the side of his temple. "Sent from heaven to watch over me."
Draco couldn't help but laugh; Harry was being so corny and romantic, and he didn't know how to handle himself. He laughed, and drew Harry into his arms, pressing kiss after kiss atop his head.
"I'm your guardian," he said, going along with it because compliments were a two-way street, and if Draco felt good from them he wanted Harry to feel good, too. "Nothing you can do to get rid of me now. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."
Harry grinned. "Good."
He leaned down to plant another kiss on Draco's mouth, but Draco had other ideas. He opened his mouth, letting his tongue travel over Harry's soft lips, requesting access. They kissed in tandem after that, lips moving in a symphony of passion and care that had Draco's very toes curling.
As they kissed, Harry's hands moved down to his sides, scratching lightly, and Draco couldn't help the moan that escaped his throat.
"What else can you do with those hands, hmm?" Draco asked, squeezing Harry's bum. "I'm eager to find out."
Harry chuckled. "That's for me to know, and you to find out, darling."
Draco groaned. "How long are you going to keep me waiting?"
"Until we're ready."
Draco noticed how Harry said we're, and how important of a distinction that was from what Theo had deemed ready.
"What if I'm ready now?" Draco whined, sticking out his bottom lip.
Harry tssked, shaking his head.
Draco sighed. "Harry, I'm literally offering myself to you on a silver platter and you're saying no. Are you alright?"
"No, I'm fine, I just . . ." Harry sighed, burying his face in Draco's neck and inhaling deeply. Then he resurfaced, locking his eyes onto Draco. "I want our first time to be really special."
Draco scoffed. "And this isn't 'special' enough to you because . . .?"
Harry blushed. "I need to . . . Read up on the subject. I don't know what I'm doing, Draco. And I don't want you to feel like you have to coach me through everything."
Draco's eyes widened. "Is that what this is about?"
Looking mortified, Harry nodded.
Draco shook his head fondly, because Harry really was an idiot. "You really think I'd find amusement in your lack of male experience?"
"Not amusement- Annoyance, maybe."
"You think I'd be annoyed? How thick are you? Have you seen yourself? You're bloody fit, Potter. Anyone, and I mean anyone, would be lucky to have you. Why you've chosen me is still beyond me, but that's neither here nor there. The point is, I'll gladly coach you through it all if that means you'll stop torturing yourself."
Harry's eyes sparkled. "You mean all that?"
Draco nodded.
"Then what are we waiting for?"
"I dunno, you tell me, you're the one who- Mmmm."
Harry had latched his mouth onto Draco's neck and began sucking, while bringing his hands around his back to cup Draco's fine, pert arse.
"That's more like it, Harry," Draco sighed as Harry nipped and licked at his jugular, moving his way across his collarbones and thumbing the material of his dress shirt.
"You can touch it, you know," said Draco. "It's not going to bite you."
Harry took a moment to glare at him before beginning to work on the buttons.
Draco shifted the weight off his elbows by lying back and letting his head hit the pillow, and he used a free hand to tug on Harry's hair, wordlessly pushing him to go faster.
"These damn buttons, why does there have to be so damn many of them?" Harry grumbled.
"Don't fuck it up, this is my good shirt."
"Aren't all your shirts your 'good' shirts?"
"Fair point."
As Harry continued to work, Draco's mind began to wander. Suddenly, all so suddenly and with the force of a thousand hippogriffs, he realized.
Harry was about to see his scars.
Oh no oh no oh no oh no-
"Harry," he began, sitting up as far as he could with Harry still on top of him. "I-"
But it was too late. For as more buttons popped off, Harry's expression wilted like a dying flower.
"Draco . . ."
Draco closed his eyes, unable to take it.
"Draco, please look at me."
Draco, unable to resist, opened his eyes.
Harry was looking at him with a heartbreaking mixture of remorse and pity.
Harry reached forward tentatively and slid the material down off Draco's shoulders, slowly but surely revealing his Dark Mark.
"Harry." Draco's voice broke on the single word.
Harry shook his head, drawing Draco closer and placing one hand on his stomach.
"I did this to you," he said roughly, eyes never leaving the hideous array of scars on his chest.
"I-It was a long time ago. I'm over it now-"
"You shouldn't be. You should hate me for this." Harry lowered himself on top of Draco, pressing a soft kiss to one of the more visible scars that ran across his sternum.
"But I don't," said Draco. "You didn't mean to, you told me-"
"But this? I could have killed you, Draco. Fuck, I could have lost you forever in that bathroom-"
"But we don't have to think about that, because you didn't," Draco said gently, rubbing his hands over Harry's back.
"Fuck, Draco." Now Harry sounded choked up, and as Draco looked into his eyes he spotted unshed tears. "I'm so fucking sorry."
No response would have sufficed, and Harry's next actions rendered Draco incapable of formulating one, anyway. He lowered himself back down and began planting kisses all around the scar, before moving onto the next one and presenting it the same treatment. His mouth grazed lower and lower, kissing so delicately as though Draco would break, and it made Draco want to cry because he didn't think he'd ever been handled so gently before.
"Harry, please," he choked out, feeling a single tear escape his duct.
"Draco, don't cry," Harry said, immediately moving up to kiss the tear off his cheek. "Please don't cry."
"You've been having to say that to me way too much lately," Draco said wetly, sniffling. "How about stop giving me reasons to cry, you wanker."
Harry shook his head and buried his face back in Draco's stomach, continuing to kiss all around his scars. Then, finally, he looked up at a stunned Draco.
"You're beautiful, with or without these."
"What are you talking about? They're hideous."
"Don't talk about yourself that way. I know I have no right to speak on these, considering I gave them to you, but they don't take away from your appearance at all. If anything, they just show how strong you are."
Harry certainly wasn't going to change his opinions on his scars overnight, and Draco didn't expect him to. But he supposed he'd throw a dog a bone for trying.
"You're right," he said quietly. "Thank you."
"Draco," Harry said. "You don't have to believe me right now, you know."
Draco nodded. "I know."
"Okay." Harry pressed a kiss on his head. Then he both surprised and didn't surprise Draco by saying, "Would it be alright if we just . . . laid here? For a while?"
Draco knew the mood had long since been killed, but that didn't stop the bubble of disappointment from welling up in his stomach. If they had to grind things to a screeching halt every time Draco got insecure about something, they'd never make it past first base.
"O-Of course."
"Listen." Harry moved off Draco and lay beside him, drawing him in with one arm. "I want you. Trust me, I do. But tonight isn't the night."
Draco nodded. "I know I killed the mood, there's no need to rub it in."
Harry sighed. "Your feelings are valid. You don't have to apologize about how you feel. This is a sensitive area for you, and I personally think you handled it really well. You could have jumped up out of bed and pushed me away, but you didn't."
"I didn't want to. I liked it," Draco said in realization.
Harry smiled. "I did, too. I didn't like seeing what I did to you, but all the rest of it I liked plenty."
"So you just don't want me tonight," Draco clarified.
"You're wound up. I don't want to force something on you that you aren't in the right headspace for."
"You aren't forcing," said Draco, knowing he was borderline begging but in far too deep to care.
"Draco."
Draco relented, deflating against Harry and snuggling closer into him. "I understand," he said. "Tonight's not it."
"Soon," Harry promised, planting a kiss on the crown of Draco's forehead. "To tell you the truth, I'm a bit nervous. I want to be good for you."
Draco couldn't help but chuckle. "You couldn't be bad for me if you tried, Potter."
"Parkinson talked to me today," Harry said.
Draco's mouth dropped open in shock.
"That snake. She told me to come to you."
"Don't talk about her that way, she loves you," said Harry. "She was probably fed up and just wanting us to work things out as quickly and painlessly as possible."
"While sacrificing my pride in the process."
"Your pride?" Harry chortled. "Never." He leaned in for another kiss, which Draco gladly granted him. He knew things would get complicated, and it was only a matter of time before Harry would come to his senses and leave him for someone better, but for now he decided to enjoy things as they were.