Harry was walking down the hall to get dinner, when something struck him as... unusual. The door to the room of requirements stood slightly ajar.
Harry nervously swallowed, he had been under the impression that nobody except for the members of Dumbledore's army knew of it. He didn't think that they would be be thoughtless enough to just leave the door open. Though the war had been won, he still though of the room as a special place for him and his friends.
As silently as possible, he sneaked up to the crack and peered through it. At first he couldn't see anything in the dim lighting but he carefully pulled the door open a slight bit more and was finally able to get a glimpse of the interior.
Inside he saw a scene like straight out of an expensive restaurant, elegant dark floor and velvety curtains, heavy circular tables of mahogany were lit by candles and on one of the walls there was a chimney crackling with fire. A light jazzy melody was playing over the faint sound of clattering cutlery and hushed voices.
Harry was quite confused, the scene looked both inviting and high class and he couldn't sort the image to any of the students of the school. For a second he thought that maybe one of the teachers had made use of the room but remembering Dumbledore's words of 'no one knowing the room' he scrapped that idea as well.
Filled with curiosity, he opened the door enough to glide into the room and closed it behind him, silently as to not disturb anyone who was currently within.
A handsome young waiter came up to him and wordlessly motioned towards the jacket that Harry was carrying. When he got no response, he sighed lightly and said "Sir, please your date is already waiting for you."
With utter confusion, Harry handed his jacket to the waiter who promptly gave it to a passing waitress. He then straightened an invisible wrinkle in his obviously ironed to perfection pants and motioned Harry to follow him.
The waiter led the confused Harry through a few tables and then pulled open one of the curtains that separated the tables. Inside sat a person that Harry certainly hadn't expected.
Draco Malfoy
With light surprise and suspicion Harry looked at the pale young man. After the War had ended and the ongoing argument between them had faded, he hadn't seen Malfoy much. The blond often sat secluded at the table, he had become very quiet and to be honest, Harry somewhat missed the constant quarrel with him.
Of course not the immature and hurtful words often spewn between them, but after understanding where Malfoy was coming from, he suddenly got a lot more tolerant towards the past.
Malfoy looked up and a light smile grazed his lips. "Good evening" he said, while standing up to greet Harry. "Hi?" The dark haired one answered in question. The light smile on Malfoys lips slipped into his signature smirk as he grabbed Harry's hand to blow a light kiss on it. "I'm glad you could make it," he said and motioned towards the other to sit down.
Harry could feel blood rushing to his cheeks at the unsuspected act and he nodded duly. After they were both seated, Malfoy slid a menu over to his side and took sip of the wineglass that had already been standing at the table.
Harry felt as if he was in some strange dream, he couldn't make any sense of Malfoys behaviour but he decided to play along for now and see where the act would take him.
About two hours in, after enjoying probably the nicest ,(and most expensive) steak of his life, (to be honest he couldn't even pronounce it, was it wagyu? The price wasn't written down so he took it as a bad sign) Harry realized that he honestly enjoyed Draco's (they had gotten to a first name basis fairly quickly) company.
They had a lot to talk about and without Draco's usual superiority complex but a lot of dry humor and quick witted-ness Harry realized that if it had always been like this, they would have probably been great friends throughout the years.
Draco had ordered a Château Margaux and Harry felt the red wine slowly making his his head a bit fuzzy.
After eating the dessert which consisted of some high fashion macaroons (or something) they had almost emptied the bottle. Harry giggled when Draco told him an anecdote of how he'd repeatedly gone skinnydipping into his mansions pond as a child much to the distress of his nanny.
After the had both calmed down, Draco leaned forward and looked Harry staight into the eyes, the icy depth making Harry shudder a bit. The blond bit his lip nervously and then abruptly stood up.
Harry watched with wide eyes as he rounded the table within a few big steps and came to a halt right in front of him. He leaned back and watched as Draco crouched down in front of him.
"Harry," the blond started, looking somewhat sad "I know that this isn't real and all but I felt like I just have to get this out at least once." Dracos was frowning and Harry leaned forward in an act of drunken courage to smoothe out the wrinkles that were forming between the other man's brow.
Draco leaned into the touch a bit and took a deep breath. "I-I've really liked you for a while now, well... kind of always and I was always so afraid of anyone finding out, my parents, my friends, or the real you. I was always so mean to you and I know that I hurt you. At first it was just childish ignorance and when I figured it out I pushed it away. When I got the the dark mark, I knew that it was over anyway, since you were everyone's hero, all the time."
"After the war, you didn't condemn me for my past, you accepted my mistakes and I realized that I would probably never get over this." Draco was sobbing softly while finally letting his emotions out. Harry could only sit in shocked silence while tears were staining the fabric of his pants.
"And I know- I know that I'll never have the courage to tell you this in person, because then I'll just be a freak and you'll probably not even want to be in the same room as me, but please Harry, would you kiss me? Here in this perfect scenario that I've created just to satisfy my own twisted desires?"
At this point, Harry was crying too, he really hadn't meant to but he couldn't say anything without letting out an ugly sob so he only nodded.
Draco smiled at him through his tears, it was a fullblown smile, not hidden under false pretenses or layers of suppression.
It was beautiful.