A/N: Hey y'all! Some Drarry fluff :)
Word Count: 414
Enjoy!
Draco never would have thought kissing his boyfriend between vampire coffins would feel incredible, but there really was no better word for it.
He curled his fingers in Harry's thick, unruly hair, cherishing the warmth that spread through his body. It was a cold night, and even colder in the Muggle haunted house he'd been convinced to try, but the fire within him was burning hotly.
Eventually, the two pulled away from each other, breathing heavily. Around them, fake howls and moans filled the silence, as did the occasional scream of a child who'd snuck in. Draco gazed, transfixed, at Harry. He was dressed as the Muggle conception of a vampire—which was ridiculous, in Draco's opinion—and had forced his boyfriend into ripped clothes and smeared fake blood on his face. A zombie, he called it.
Really, Draco wasn't sure who'd come up with such a far-fetched idea, but if it encouraged Harry to pull him into dark corners… well, he could tolerate it for one night.
"So, remind me why Muggles deliberately scare themselves on this night," Draco requested, slightly out of breath and ignoring Harry's smirk.
The half-blood shrugged. "It's fun. The rush of adrenaline, and then taking the mickey out of your mates afterwards…"
"That is not fun, Potter. It's potentially humiliating."
"Well, I like it," Harry said decidedly. "I never got to go when I was younger… I could never get my aunt and uncle's permission."
Draco bristled at the mention of those people. "Then let's continue through the house. We're supposed to find the exit, aren't we?"
Harry stood and nodded, grinning like a fool. His green eyes were practically glowing in the dim light. "Mmhmm. Come on, we're supposed to leave the vampires and… I think we should go by the ghosts again."
Draco rolled his grey eyes. "We just came that way, Potter."
"Yeah, but there's a rickety staircase on the other side that we didn't go up."
Of course. "Fine, but I expect to be valiantly rescued if I fall through rotten wood."
Harry through back his head and laughed, and Draco wondered how it had taken him so long to realize that he cared about the Gryffindor, not hated him. But now that the war was over… they had all the time in the world to make up for his earlier obtuseness.
So he took Harry's hand and allowed him to guide him through the moaning walls and puddles of slime.
That was love, after all.