A/N: I can't see a huge amount of need for it, but just a WARNING to anyone who might find it uncomfortable reading descriptions of sexual situations in this chapter. And fluff. So, so much fluff, it's practically drowning in it. Enjoy!

Chapter 17

Draco was barely scraping the surface of wakefulness when a brush of warmth trailed across the back of his neck. Warmth, and then a touch of cold, more solid than the insubstantial touch of that preceding. Even before his mind fully registered what it was, what it could be, he found himself smiling.

Eyes squinting open to peer between heavy lids, Draco half turned his head to make a poor attempt at peering over his shoulder. "Are you awake?"

"Mm."

Draco smile widened a fraction. "How long?"

"A little while."

Another whisper of warmth curled like a tendril of ribbon against Draco's skin as Harry gave a small sigh. Then he tipped his head into the back of Draco's neck once more and that touch of coldness returned, a blatant contrast to the warmth enveloping the bed.

"Is that your nose?" Draco asked.

"Mm."

"Cold even though it's so warm?"

"Mm. And my toes." As evidence, Harry pressed his feet up against the back of Draco's legs. They were nearly as cold as his nose, and the hairs stood up in a rippling wave to Draco's nape, but he didn't protest. If anything, the slight shock to his sleepy lethargy roused him more fully. He didn't think he'd ever been more delighted to awaken in his life.

Rolling over, dragging his cocoon of blankets with him as he did so, Draco turned into Harry and flopped at arm over his shoulders. Even before he caught a glimpse of Harry's face he was pulling him towards himself, tucking his head against his shoulder in what was more of an embrace than anything but could possibly be explained away as being an effort to keep him warm.

Not that Draco needed to explain anything. I can do this, he thought, tipping his chin to rest against the side of Harry's head. He closed his eyes, though he didn't think he could fall back to sleep even if he'd wanted to. I can have this.

"Are you trying to smother me to death?" Harry asked, the amusement in his question muffled against Draco's skin.

"Yes. You've discovered my dastardly plan. Seduce you so that I can suffocate you in a hug."

"You terrible person, Draco."

"Well, I am a villain. Haven't you read the papers?"

Harry huffed a little laugh into Draco's shoulder before drawing away from him slightly. Draco allowed it, would never not allow it, though left his arm draped over Harry. Because he could. Because he wanted to, and he was able to.

Harry tilted his face up to him, a smile playing upon his lips and adding a dimple to his cheek. There were still pillow lines on his face, but his eyes were bright enough that he really must have been awake for some time already.

"I knew it," he said, a teasing edge to his words. "You always were a wily one, Malfoy."

"What, are you scared, Potter?" Draco couldn't help but ask.

Harry's smile widened with a flash of tease. "You wish."

Any further teasing was lost in effect when Harry raised a hand to Draco's face and drew a feather-light finger across his cheek, up to his brow to flick aside his fringe with a gentle swipe. Draco leant into the touch, couldn't help but close his eyes against briefly simply to revel in the feeling of it. When Harry grazed his fingers along the side of his head, Draco turned his face into his palm and brushed his lips across the soft, warm skin that was offered to him. Given. That touched because Harry wanted to touch.

There was so much that still needed to be said. Even after the previous day, after confessions flung and quietly voiced alike, after stares that spoke more than words and touches that fulfilled them, there was still so much that needed to be said. Draco longed to ask even as he was scared to: where did they stand? What did this make them now? What were they to one another, and just how deep did it go?

And, most importantly, because Draco couldn't believe it simply himself: Can you possibly care for me as much as I do for you?

It seemed so impossible. So inexplicable. So sudden and yet not sudden in the least, because somehow, it also felt inevitable. That Draco could care for Harry – no, not care, for it seemed something more than that. That he could feel so strongly after barely a few months of working together, months of watching and learning, of understanding what made him Harry and seeing the person beneath the model, beneath the hero, and beneath the school rivalry that they'd once had.

Draco had always felt strongly for Harry, if in a vastly different way. Was it even possible for Harry to feel a glimmer of that same intensity?

"You're thinking too hard."

Opening his eyes, Draco turned from where Harry's hand still cupped his face. He rested his head down upon the pillow, barely a hand's breadth away from Harry's and close enough the he could make out the individual hairs in Harry's eyelashes, the chips of multihued green in his eyes that had always fascinated Draco but that he'd never had the opportunity to observe at length. Never so closely.

Harry's eyes flickered briefly up to Draco's brow, and his fingers shifted to smooth the wrinkle of frown that Draco hadn't really noticed had settled. "What's wrong?"

Draco let his concerns be wiped away, even if only for a time. It was pointless to think of such things, and especially at that moment. Especially after the previous night and especially given that, even then, Harry shifted slightly closer to him in the bed they'd only just decided was definitely big enough to share.

"Nothing's wrong," he murmured.

Harry's eyebrow twitched. "Yeah. Right."

"There's not. My mind is simply getting ahead of itself."

Harry hummed thoughtfully. He settled his own head a little more comfortably against his pillow, hand returning to raking gently along the side of Draco's head. It was soothing and strangely intimate in a way that Draco had never experienced before. No one had ever touched him like that.

"Me too," Harry murmured. "Even after yesterday… even after it all, I can't help but wonder."

"You shouldn't," Draco said, maybe a little more vehemently than was necessary. But he couldn't help himself. He didn't really want to hold it back. "You shouldn't worry about such things. It's not a passing fancy, I swear. Not for me. And it's not just lust, because it's –"

Draco stuttered off, the tripping of his tongue suddenly turned shy. Despite what he'd revealed only the evening before, it felt like a whole new ordeal to be repeating himself in the bright light of day. It made it more real, more lasting, and Harry's open attentiveness even more so.

"I know," Harry said slowly. "Or I think I know. I'd like it to be, from you, because – because I do too."

He'd heard it before. Essentially, Draco had heard it only the previous day. But just as it felt different speaking his own feelings aloud that morning, if felt different hearing Harry's, too.

A tight pain that wasn't at all bad squeezed Draco's chest and he couldn't help but lean towards Harry and capture his lips with his own. There was no hesitation in Harry's response; he sunk into the kiss with ready willingness, drinking Draco in as his fingers abandoned their gentle touches to instead loop his arm around Draco's neck.

That they drew towards one another, chest to chest, hip to hip, legs intertwining, felt so utterly natural. Draco lost himself in Harry's warmth, in the brief hint of coldness from his toes, in the way he felt, and smelt, and tasted. When Harry drew away from him slightly – just a fraction, his arms still comfortably locked around Draco – even that was worth it for he had the chance to look at him, to trace the contours of his face absent of the smears of makeup and editing.

He really is beautiful, Draco thought to himself. No wonder he's adored. A figurehead who's strong, and courageous, but beautiful as well is…

Snorting at himself and his foolishness, Draco tipped his forehead lightly against Harry's. "I like you," he found himself murmuring, so inadequate and yet so perfectly truthful that Draco could almost feel the memory of his childhood antagonism and his resentment shriek in distress. It was made no less starkly jarring by having already admitted to his feelings the day before.

Harry's silent laugh flicked him with another ribbon of warmth. "Funny," he murmured in reply. "I kind of like you too. Good to know we're on the same page."

So simple. Maybe too simple. But it felt, sounded, tasted so perfect as Harry's breath touched Draco's lips that he wouldn't have it any other way. Draco lost himself in Harry's kisses, his arms, and the warmth of him as he pressed against him in return with a sore and desperate need.

Not that it lasted long. In a fluid movement, Harry looped a leg over him to straddle his hips. He settled himself comfortably – a little too comfortably in Draco's opinion – and he must have known what such the sight of him, what his weight and the brief canting of his hips, was doing to Draco even before Draco uttered a groan through slightly trembling lips. His smile was knowing as he leant towards Draco and bestowed a chaste but lingering kiss upon him. Then he pushed himself upright and started rocking his hips against, and there was little else Draco could do but grasp his thighs in an effort not to buck against him.

His efforts didn't last long. More than likely Harry hadn't intended them to.

Draco hadn't known of the complexities of sex between men. Or he'd known theoretically, but practicality was different. He hadn't known until Harry told him just how naïve it was to consider it easy, or simple, or just 'doing it' because they wanted to. He hadn't known the degree of preparation, even if people like Blaise in the throes of his crudest moments had done their best to explain it to him.

He hadn't known how bloody good it could be, either.

When Harry slicked himself up, when he grasped Draco's arousal and pumped him twice with a fistful of lube, Draco was a lost cause. He hooked his hands up around Harry's hips instead, blood and lust and want thundering in his ears as a rising pace, and only had the headspace to as a short, "May I?" before intelligibility abandoned him.

Harry, his beautiful smile spreading – a smile that Draco could look at, was allowed to gaze upon, was allowed to stare at and touch and taste – answered by taking Draco into himself with a slow, steady, measured slide. His sigh that was almost a moan coiled through the thumping in Draco's ears, his head tipping backwards and eyes closing, and if Draco wasn't gone before that he had little chance thereafter.

It was a slow, undulating coupling, far removed from what had become frantic and desperate the night before. Draco thrust upwards and into him, and Harry rolled his hips and met him with each motion, his gasped breaths and low murmurs of Draco's name as intoxicating as his weight atop of him. It was gradual, and blissful, and awash with spreading warmth that radiated from Draco's groin and down to his very toes.

Until it wasn't.

Draco couldn't grasp his hands in enough places. Or he didn't have enough hands, maybe. He curled his fingers around Harry's hips as he thrust into him, as his pace hitched uncontrollably, his thighs, his waist, reaching for Harry's hand as Harry pressed himself further onto him and reached for Draco's shoulder to steady himself. His own gasps, his own desperate murmurs, matched Harry's, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open in an effort not to miss a second of flushed cheeks and bright, lust-blown eyes, Harry's lips parted and wet with Draco's kisses.

It might have been slow, could have been, but Draco couldn't help himself. When his urgency mounted, his sharp thrusts not enough, to the sound of his irrepressible groan, he hooked an arm around Harry's waist and rolled him until he was pinned beneath him. He felt Harry's breath puff against his face with the motion, felt Harry's arms loop around him in return and his legs hook around his back, before he spared no further moment for thought and fell prey to the heat, and desperation, and urgency throbbing through him. With only half a mind for practicality, Draco adjusted himself over Harry, pulled Harry's hips up and against him, and drove into him. His mouth unerringly found Harry's neck and the heated moan he managed to elicit was a heady draught inhaled too quickly.

Draco had had sex before, but this was different. This was a mindless, encompassing, frantic battle of want and need that he could barely control.

Harry didn't mind. He didn't protest. But more than that, more importantly, he wanted it in return. He held Draco, pulled him towards him, into him, and wrapped himself around him with just as much clinging demand to erase any inch of space between them as Draco did himself. If Draco had been plagued by any second thoughts, his qualms would have been eased with each thrust as Harry gasped and moaned, as he murmured "Draco" amidst feverish, stuttered encouragement. As he tightened his legs around Draco, holding him even closer, as he grasped Draco's shoulders with fingers digging into muscle almost painfully, as he arched against Draco with each motion, tightening around him in a seizing rush of pleasure –

That pleasure, the longing and almost violent need, was glorious. But it was made all the more so for the fact that it was found with Harry, and that Harry wanted Draco. He wanted him. There was surely nothing more wondrous than that. Draco sunk into everything that Harry offered and would have been content to never untangle himself again.

Sliding his glasses onto his nose, Harry took a moment to ruffle his damp hair before smoothing it as best he could – which wasn't saying a whole lot, but it was better than nothing. Between his oversized hoodie, his too-long slacks, and his general state of unkemptness, he knew that Von would have all but had a fit. That in itself would have usually been enough for Harry to make more of an effort.

Not that day, however. At that moment, standing alone in the bathroom still thick with steam and his skin prickling with the warmth of the shower, Harry couldn't bring himself to care all that much. Not when every part of him felt like it was buzzing with charged electricity.

Sparing a final reflexive glance towards the fogged mirror – habit made it impossible not to these days – Harry turned from the room. It might have been a little embarrassing to catch himself wearing such an unshakeable smile, but he didn't care about that, either. He couldn't. The cause for the warmth cascading in endless waves from his chest to his fingers and toes lay just outside the bathroom door, and pausing long enough to adopt a public face, an unnecessary façade, was irrational. Illogical.

Besides, it wasted time. Harry had already taken more than enough time in the shower.

Stepping from the room, he shivered slightly as the fog and warmth diffused down the cool hallway. The sound of the air conditioning powered overhead, but it hadn't yet managed to take the chill off the morning. It was that chill that had kept Harry in bed for so long that morning as it was; only Draco's commitment to his work had coaxed him from their shared blankets.

It had been a near thing, though. Draco claimed he was just about tempted into passing the entire day between the sheets. His reluctance to rise was emphasised when he'd wrapped himself around Harry, stealing his lips and his breath all at once in a kiss so deep it seemed to reach into Harry's lungs. It was only with much grumbling that he'd hauled himself from the bed.

The clatter of cutlery and crockery met him as Harry poked his head from the mouth of the hallway. Sweeping a glance across the sunlit suite, he zeroed in on Draco seated at the table, the spread of room-service breakfast before him and the steam of tea tangling amidst that of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. As ever, the sight of that much food niggled at the part of Harry that clung to his diet with rigorous compulsion, but it was less demanding that day. Certainly when Draco paused with his teacup half raised to his mouth and smiled at him.

He was gorgeous. Truly and utterly. From the perfect lines of his face to the sweep of his eyelashes, the gentle curl of his hair still slightly damp from his own shower, the arch of his eyebrows and the line of his sharp shoulders set in the same perfect posture that Harry had always known him to possess. He could have been the muse for a sculptor, the inspiration behind countless artworks, or perhaps even rendered in a stone cast of immaculate creation itself. Except that morning there was nothing cool or hard about him; he glowed with a soft warmth that Harry hadn't seen of him before, riding upon the curl of his smile, how wide it spread, how it was just for Harry. How Harry knew what it tasted like and just how paradoxically soft yet firm his kisses were.

"I thought you'd drowned in there," Draco drawled, lowering his teacup. "I was tempted to come in to fetch you with a fishing net."

Harry hummed as he padded across the room, running another hand through his hair before shaking out his fingers. He didn't miss that Draco followed the gesture with hooded-eyed attentiveness. "Not today. Maybe you could join me some other time, though. When you've got a bit longer than an hour to get ready in the morning, that is."

Draco arched an eyebrow, catching onto the suggestiveness of Harry's words without necessary emphasis. It was almost funny how readily he understood, how readily Harry understood in return, given their confusion the evening before. How everything made so much more sense. Perfect sense, even.

"I'd be more than happy to oblige," Draco said, twisting in his seat so that he was sitting sidelong in his chair. "If you want me there."

Had Harry not already been smiling, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from doing so. As it was, he felt his smile unfold into a grin. There was something so profoundly wonderful about the meaning behind Draco's words. If you want me there. Because Draco cared. He cared just as much if not more about what Harry wanted than his own desires, and that meant something so vast that Harry almost couldn't conceive it. He didn't know what he could possibly say in return.

So he didn't try. Instead, Harry crossed the room and let actions speak for him. Stopping before Draco, so close that their knees touched, he cupped Draco's head in his hands, tilted his chin upwards, and dropped a caress of a kiss upon his lips. The action was so new and unfamiliar yet felt so natural that Harry all but sighed into it.

"Looking forward to it," he murmured against Draco's lips.

The hum Draco offered in return was so multi-layered with longing and sincerity that it tingled against Harry's lips. It was only added to by the slide of his hands around Harry's waist, his thumbs hooking into his waistband not with insinuation but simply to hold. Just to have that contact of skin on skin without the thin barrier of Harry's slacks.

That meant something too. It meant something that only added to the blossoming warmth in Harry's chest. How much had changed in just a day…

Harry would have been content to remain like that for the rest of the morning. More than content; he thought he would have quite liked to, actually. But Draco had work, and Harry wasn't so blinded by his own wants that he would ask Draco to compromise. Not for this.

Instead, he took a step backwards and sunk into the chair directly next to Draco's own. Just as reluctantly, Draco let him go, unhooking his hands from his waist and turning back to the table and breakfast. "I can't imagine today will be as long as they've been until now," he said, picking up his tea once more. "Blessedly."

"Don't pretend you don't love it," Harry said, smiling for an entirely different reason this time. I know you do, he thought to himself. I like that I know you do. That kind of knowledge hadn't even occurred to him as being exceptional before. It hadn't struck him as being something so wonderful to possess.

"I do," Draco said. "Though not as much as photography. And developing images isn't anywhere near as satisfying as using a darkroom, but –"

"You've used a darkroom before?" Harry asked, pausing in the act of pouring his own tea.

Draco gave a satisfied little smile. "I have. Or I do."

"Often?"

"Less often than I'd like, and not for a while."

"That would be cool to see," Harry murmured to himself, dropping his gaze to his tea. He'd never been in a darkroom before. Photographer business had always seemed like just that: not his own.

"I could show you some time," Draco said, recapturing his attention. His smile widened slightly as Harry blinked up at him, momentarily surprised. "We could consider it a date of sorts."

Harry stared for a moment before uttering a huff of laughter. A date. Dating, and relationships, and 'what it all means'. It was something so surreal. They hadn't spoken of it in the brief moments of lucidity throughout the night and into the morning, but somehow it seemed almost foolish to hold such a conversation. As though they were so far beyond that already that it wasn't even worth their time.

"I'll hold you to that," Harry said instead, smiling contentedly to himself as he poured the rest of his tea.

They ate in relative quietness, Draco wordlessly handing Harry a bowl of fruit even if his questioning, "That's all?" was very pointed. Harry only shrugged; it wasn't the time to discuss such things, nor to attempt to convince Draco as he did Hermione and just about everyone else that a strict diet it was all a part and parcel of his job. It wasn't worth it, and Harry was too sated to want to start an argument about it. Draco, apparently, was of the same mind.

Not today. Maybe another time, with time that they had, but not today.

The sun was streaming across the dining table, capping the distant cliffs visible from the eastern window, by the time Harry lowered his fork to the table. At his side, Draco was sipping through his second cup of tea, half-turned in his seat towards Harry once more and regarding him quietly.

Watching. Just watching. Not with lust or open desire, nor flooded with questions or demands. Not even with the clinical air of a professional eyeing their subject as Harry had seen him regard the models over the previous few days. This was different. This was softer, somehow, almost gentle. Before he'd worked with him on his own shoot, Harry doubted he would have thought it possible for Draco Malfoy to appear so human. Now, he couldn't imagine an expression more suited to him

When Harry muffled a yawn with the back of his hand, Draco's lips twitched. Propping an elbow onto the table, his head onto his knuckles, he extended his free hand and brushed it against the back of Harry's. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for Harry to flip his hand and link their fingers. Perfectly natural.

"Tired?" Draco asked.

"Mm."

"Sorry."

Harry snorted. "For what, exactly? You didn't make me do anything I wasn't wholly invested in."

Draco's smile grew. "I know," he said, something almost disbelieving in his tone.

Harry huffed another sigh of laughter. Shaking his head, he squeezed Draco's fingers gently. "How about you? You're the one who has to actually work. I'm practically on holiday here."

"Holidaying by accompanying me to work?" Draco said.

Harry shrugged.

"That's not much of a holiday."

Harry shrugged again, absently flicking Draco's fingers with his thumb. He had beautiful fingers. Long and thin, perfect for dancing around the head of a camera. Perfect for caressing skin too, as Harry was abruptly all too aware of.

"I enjoy it," he said. Then, because it was true, "I think I just enjoy being with you and watching you, to be honest. Even if it's from a distance. I think… yeah, I think I've enjoyed that for a while. Even when we were working together."

Draco gazed at him for a long moment, his smile shrinking but somehow not lessening in its warmth. Shaking his head slightly, he raised Harry's hand to his lips and planted a kiss on his fingers. His breath was warm, almost like a caress in itself. "Me too," he said simply before planting another kiss. "But even so, you said yesterday that you'd never been on a holiday."

Harry hummed in placid affirmation. At Draco's glance, he raised a shoulder. "I've never really had the time."

Draco grunted flatly. "Well, in that case, we'll make time."

"Later?"

"Today, provided you're not too tired."

"Provided you're not too tired," Harry said, raising their clasped hands to butt his knuckles against Draco's chin.

Draco scrunched his nose. It was an unexpectedly adorable expression, and Harry couldn't help but nudge the end of his nose himself. It felt entirely natural, entirely perfect, to do so. "I'm fine," Draco said. "I'd rather enjoy myself with you, to be honest."

Harry smiled. "Then we'll go into the town. Maybe to more than just a restaurant?"

"Most definitely. We could visit the Nine Towers for their lookouts, seeing as you like the view of the lake so much. Though I've heard it's quite a trek in some instances."

Harry's smile widened. "I'd like that. Or maybe, if we have a chance, some of the churches?"

Draco nodded, and though he'd been the one to suggest the towers, his interest visibly piqued at the suggestion. "Jesuit Church in particular. Certainly."

"And maybe the Glacier Garden?" Harry suggested. At Draco's quizzical glance, he waved his free hand vaguely. "Josef, the receptionist – he mentioned them the other day. When Madame Clementine met you in the foyer, remember?" At Draco's nod and shrug, he added, "He said they were a bit of a hit for tourists or whatever."

Draco nodded again slowly, considering. "It's a shame, really," he murmured, resting his head back onto his hand. "Already being in Switzerland, it's a real shame that you couldn't go around and properly sightsee."

"A shame just for me?" Harry asked. "I wasn't aware you'd been to Lucerne before."

"I haven't," Draco said. "But I've travelled elsewhere, and not just in the past few years." He hummed to himself, a slight crease appearing between his eyebrows. "The Chateau de Chillon in Montreux is one of the oldest Wizarding castles in the country, you know. Witches and wizards are given ready access to it as a form of visitation right. If you could go…"

Harry tucked his chin, though didn't really bother to hide his smile. Just the thought of being considered was enough. Surreal, and a little uncomfortable when it came from someone other than Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny, but special. "I don't mind," he said quietly. "Besides, who knows? Maybe I'll get itchy feet after this and want to take a break from work to travel the world or whatever."

He spoke in jest, but Draco didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. Instead, he tipped his head curiously, regarding Harry as though he were a puzzle that had suddenly grown intensely interesting. "Would you?" he asked.

Harry blinked. "Would I what?"

"Want to travel."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, then paused. He'd never really thought about it. Not ever. It had always been one restriction after the other placed upon him, one barrier to even considering it following the last. Living with the Dursleys, school at Hogwarts, the war, and then after that the interviews, the fame he'd never wanted, the job that had been handed to him yet somehow seemed to cocoon him in tangling, clinging shrouds more tightly than any of those constraints preceding it.

When he considered it, properly thinking about it, Harry supposed he might. He might like to, even if it felt a little wrong. Wrong to leave, to all but abandon the Wizarding world and his responsibility to it, to disappear and inevitably cause upheaval just as the few times he'd had to lie low in the past years had proved always happened.

But if he could… if he really could…

"I couldn't," Harry said. At Draco's slight, questioning frown, he smiled ruefully. "I don't know if I could just up and leave my duties behind. Baby steps, Draco. I couldn't leave just because I wanted to."

"Then –" Draco paused. He pressed his lips together and cleared his throat before continuing. "Then what if I asked you to?"

Harry blinked again. "What?"

"What if…" Again, Draco cleared his throat, jostling Harry's hand in his own in a way that was somehow awkward. Somehow bashful. "What if I said I wanted to leave, to take a holiday, and asked you to come with me? Only if you wanted to," he hastened to add just as Harry opened his mouth. "But what if I did?"

Harry stared at him. He watched as Draco shifted in his seat, as though discomforted sitting in the wake of his question. He watched as Draco cast a glance across the room, bit his bottom lip, before forcibly releasing it and turning back to Harry. He was still staring when Draco gave a frustrated little sigh and shook his captured hand with a slightly more forceful jostle. "Well?"

"Are you asking me to go on a holiday with you?" Harry asked slowly, the urge to smile again tickling his lips.

He gave another shuffling shift in his seat, but Draco didn't hesitate in nodding. "I am. I don't really have any ideas of where to go, but yes, I think a holiday is much needed. Long overdue, too, and given that I've just finished a job that has amounted to a rather large sum of money…"

Harry didn't bother trying to withhold his delight anymore. He couldn't if he'd wanted to. The weight of a duty he'd held for years, a duty he'd disregarded – briefly, only briefly – to accompany Draco to Switzerland, still sat upon his shoulders, but it felt somehow easier to bear with Draco's offer. With his suggestion. With his request – no, his invitation. It was an invitation that didn't demand Harry take it but was sincere and heartfelt all the same. It made it somehow alright.

It's not just for me, it said, even if it sort of was. I want this, but it's not just for me. It made it just a little easier to consider as a real possibility rather than a wistful passing thought.

Harry didn't reply. Not with words. But he thought from the way Draco immediately responded to his sudden lean across the table, pressing their lips together and drawing Draco towards him, that his answer was clear enough.

A/N: I know this was a short chapter - sorry - but I have the next one up and posted, so be sure to check it out if you get the chance. Please let me know your thoughts too if you have a second! I love your reviews!