Disclaimer: Everything recogniseable belongs to J.K. Rowling... The rest is from my own imagination.
At four thirty, Draco left his office after making sure to look around very carefully for any purple memos he may have missed, and took the lift up to the Atrium. Harry was standing by himself near the exit fireplaces with one foot up on the wall and his arms crossed, his hair carelessly ruffled and falling into his eyes. God, he's gorgeous.
"Hey," Draco said as he approached.
"Hi, you ready to go?"
Draco nodded. "After you."
Harry picked up a handful of Floo powder from the sack suspended near the fireplace. Draco watched as Harry disappeared into the green flames before following him.
Draco appeared in the fireplace in Harry's kitchen and dusted himself off.
"Do you want something to drink?" Harry asked, going to the fridge.
"Sure, water's fine," Draco said, sitting down at the round table in the centre of the kitchen.
Harry sat next to him and placed a glass of water in front of him.
"Thanks." Draco took a sip.
Harry regarded him closely for a moment; the words Draco had spoken at lunch replayed themselves in Harry's mind. He cleared his throat.
"I never wanted just a quick shag from you. Caught up in the heat of the moment, I was angry that you pulled back, but to be totally honest with you, I just couldn't deal with rejection a second time."
Draco looked up at him and shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Harry, I didn't mean for it to be –"
"Shhh." Harry placed his finger on Draco's lips. He raised his hand, and very, very slowly and softly, ran his fingertips down Draco's face, his eyes following the progress of his fingers, his lips parted slightly.
Draco's eyes were trained on Harry's mouth as he moved closer, and they fluttered closed when Harry's lips met his. Draco shifted closer and took Harry's head in his hands and stroked his thumbs across the side of Harry's face. He opened his mouth and allowed Harry entry; he smiled to feel his stomach pleasantly squirming when Harry ran his tongue over his bottom lip and back inside his mouth. He could kiss Harry forever…
"Oi! Get a room!"
Draco and Harry pulled apart rapidly. Ron and Hermione were standing in the kitchen doorway grinning.
"Oh, shut up, like I can't count on my hands and feet the number of times I've walked in on you two," Harry said, rolling his eyes.
"Hi, Draco," said Hermione. She was carrying a bag of vegetables and a pile of mail. She dropped the mail on the table and bustled about the kitchen, pulling out bowls and utensils, clearly ready to make a salad. That was when Harry noticed she was carrying her left hand differently, and more importantly, the diamond ring Ron had shown him the day before was now residing on her finger. Harry gaped at Ron who had sat down and was riffling through the mail.
Draco nudged him and shot him a puzzled look. Harry gestured towards Hermione and held up his left hand and waggled his ring finger.
Draco's eyes widened. "Should we say something?" he whispered to Harry.
"Hey, we got mail from Sacco," Ron said happily, tearing open the envelope. The next moment, he had turned white.
Harry's stomach dropped and a sudden cold washed over him.
Draco suddenly felt the energy within the room change drastically and looked up at Ron. Something was not right.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked very shakily.
Ron looked up from the letter at Harry, his mouth open, but he couldn't speak.
Hermione had turned around, and she read the letter over Ron's shoulder. She gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, no!"
"What?" Harry was growing hysterical. He grabbed the letter out of Ron's hand and began to read. Then he slumped back on his chair in total shock.
Draco read the letter and gulped. Harry and Ron's friend, Zak Sacco, had been killed.
Draco looked around the kitchen. Hermione had sat down next to Ron and wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close to her. He turned to Harry who had also gone very pale; his scar was clearly visible through his hair, and his eyes had grown dark. He reached for Harry's hand, and squeezed lightly but Harry wouldn't look at him. They sat in complete silence, save for a sniffle or two from Ron, for several minutes.
Hermione and Draco had caught one another's eyes for a moment, and a flicker of fear passed between them. Though Draco tried not to think about it, he knew that it was possible for either Ron or Harry to meet a similar fate. He felt a sudden wave of sympathy for her – she had just gotten engaged to an Auror, and now this.
"Shall we have a drink?" Draco asked quietly.
There was a small murmur of assent from his companions. They would definitely need something stronger than wine. Draco looked around the kitchen, and his eyes rested on a bottle of Glenlivet twelve-year-old scotch on the sideboard. Perfect. He got up and picked up the bottle and went in search of glasses. He had just cracked the seal when Ron gave a strangled gasp. He turned. Ron and Harry were staring at him in horror.
"Are you crazy, Malfoy?"
Harry stood up and took the bottle out of Draco's hands, and covered it firmly.
"We are not going to drink this, ever," Harry snarled.
Draco took a step back. "Take it easy, Harry, it's only a bottle of scotch. I'll get you another if you –"
"It is not only scotch, Malfoy!" Harry spat, his eyes narrowed. "It's Zak's scotch!"
Oh… Damnit!
"Harry, I'm sorry. I had no idea," Draco said softly, looking down at the floor. How do I manage to piss him off so spectacularly every damn day?
Harry was about to retort with something scathing, but the words got lost on his tongue when he saw Draco's face. He gritted his teeth and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. "I know you didn't," he said, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Harry, really," Draco said, squeezing Harry's arm in a comforting gesture.
Hermione had taken the bottle from Harry's hands and poured generous measures into the four glasses of ice.
"Come on, boys, what better way to honour his memory than to drink this?" she said.
They each took a glass, and sat back down at the table.
"To Zak," said Ron, raising his glass.
"To Zak," the other three repeated. They drained their glasses, and Ron poured them all another.
Several hours and glasses of Glenlivet later, Harry was curled up on the couch with Draco, the photo album Ron had been looking through so many weeks ago open on Draco's lap. Harry had spent the last hour telling Draco stories about Zak and how much fun they'd had at school. Draco had also been very amused to hear exactly how Harry had come to the realisation that he was gay, and secretly pleased to know that Harry had been thinking about him for so long, however subconsciously it may have been.
Hermione and Ron had gone to bed ages ago, but not before Hermione had asked Draco not to leave until Harry had sobered up, at least a little.
"Come on, Harry, have some more water." Draco held the glass out to him.
Harry took a sip and then rested his head on Draco's shoulder and closed his eyes.
"Sleepy," he murmured.
"Let's get you into bed, okay?" Draco stood up and pulled Harry to his feet. They walked rather unsteadily to Harry's room.
"Need to pee." Harry pivoted extravagantly on his heel, and went into the bathroom.
Draco sat down on Harry's bed and waited for him to come out, just in case he managed to pass out.
Harry turned off the bathroom light and got into his bed. Drunk as he was, Harry could still feel the ache within him that hadn't let up, despite the presence of his friends and the alcohol. He was also very worried. He considered whether he'd chosen the right career, and he wondered if he'd be able to cope with the loss of another friend. Draco had gotten up from the bed and was leaning over him, saying his goodbyes. Suddenly, Harry didn't want to be by himself at all; he began to tremble. Draco kissed him gently on the cheek and turned to go. Harry reached out and grabbed his sleeve.
"Please, don't leave," he said in a voice very unlike his own.
Draco's stomach turned over. Surely he hadn't just heard Harry ask him not to leave. "Sorry?"
He pulled Draco back towards him. "Don't leave, please."
Draco sat back down on the bed and looked at Harry. He could feel his hand trembling, and he looked almost frightened.
"Okay, I'll stay." Draco pulled off his shoes, and lay down next to Harry.
Harry's first stifled cry broke the silence between them. Draco's heart began to race. What was he supposed to do?
Harry turned on his side, and curled into a ball; his body shook with sobs, his fists clenching around his pillow.
Draco touched his shoulder and moved closer. Harry didn't move or tell him to stop. Draco swallowed hard. How on earth was he to comfort Harry at a time like this? What was there to say? He took a deep breath and pressed his chest against Harry's back, placing an arm around Harry's body, pulling him close. He found Harry's hand and intertwined their fingers. Harry squeezed tightly, and his body shuddered with grief. Draco pressed his lips into Harry's shoulder, and buried his other hand in Harry's unruly locks. The pleasant feeling Draco had experienced while he was with Harry earlier in the day had returned, lessening the gut-wrenching one he'd felt when they'd gotten the news about Zak. He suddenly felt that he wouldn't prefer to be anywhere else in the world than with Harry, holding him as he cried. "Shhh, it'll be alright, Harry," he whispered.
Very gradually, Harry's wracking sobs subsided to gentle whimpers as he fell asleep with Draco's arms wrapped closely around him. Draco breathed in Harry's scent and allowed his mind to take hold of the situation.
In the space of five days, he'd gone from thinking that things with Harry had been totally ruined, to lying with him in his bed and comforting him. It also surprised him to realise that in the same space of time, Harry had been able to trust him enough to display such a private emotion in front of him. Running his fingers through the thick, dark hair, Draco was once again overcome by the pleasant feeling in his stomach, and it began to make him slightly nervous. He had no recollection of caring for someone as he did for Harry. Draco was only familiar with one emotion when it came to romantic relationships: lust. This was definitely not lust.
Draco yawned and rested his head on Harry's pillow. He was suddenly extremely tired. His thoughts faded into the back of his mind, and sleep took over.
Harry woke and his brain slowly began to process his whereabouts. He was very warm and comfortable in his bed, especially his pillows, but he felt exhausted and uneasy – and his skull ached like something else! He opened his eyes and found that he was not lying on a pillow, but on a very warm body. He looked up to see Draco's sleeping face. Harry wondered why he was seeing Draco's face, and why he had a hangover headache. But they were both fully clothed, and Harry didn't feel those kinds of aches. The previous night's events slowly came back to him. Zak. Draco had opened the Glenlivet; that explained the headache. God, they hadn't even contacted Zak's mother. Harry groaned. But he stayed. I asked him to stay with me, and he did. And I cried... in front of him. Harry had barely ever cried like that in front of Ron and Hermione, far less his ex-enemy turned… something else, but he'd let his guard down in front of Draco. What did that mean? Harry's head gave a particularly nasty throb and he groaned again.
Draco stirred beneath him. Harry hoped he hadn't woken him up, for despite his woes and worries, he thought Draco looked especially beautiful while he was asleep. He found himself wanting to see Draco sleep more often.
"Morning, Harry."
Harry was startled out of his thoughts. "Morning," he replied. "Did you sleep alright?"
"As well as one could in an unfamiliar place," Draco said with a small smile. His fingers found Harry's hair, causing Harry to close his eyes again. He was still so tired.
"I'm sorry, Draco, I hope Hermione didn't make you feel like you had to stay or anything."
"Harry, she didn't make me do anything. I wouldn't still be here if I didn't want to be, okay?"
"Okay."
Draco was massaging his scalp and the back of his neck, and he was beginning to relax again.
"It's still early. I'll wake you up when it's time to go," Draco said.
Harry barely murmured that he'd heard Draco and understood what he'd said. He accepted the call of sleep, enjoying Draco's fingers in his hair. A person could easily get used to this…
When Draco opened his eyes again, he was suddenly wide awake. Things shouldn't be so bright at eight in the morning. When he checked his watch, he thought he was still dreaming. Ten-thirty!
"Harry, we have to go!" Draco whispered urgently in his ear, shaking him gently. Harry didn't budge. Crap. "Harry!" Draco shook him violently.
"What?" Harry grumbled, a frown creasing his forehead.
"We have to go to work. Now." Draco got out of the bed and looked down at himself. Every article of clothing was wrinkled. It was on days like these that Draco was absolutely ecstatic that he'd been born a wizard. He picked up his wand from Harry's bedside table and muttered a spell to straighten out his clothes. He tucked in his shirt and looked around for his tie. Harry still hadn't moved.
"Come on, Potter! Get up; it's ten-thirty."
"It's what?" Harry reared out of bed and dashed to the bathroom.
Draco sighed and found his tie draped across his robes on the chair in the corner.
"I can't believe we overslept!" Harry had returned from the bathroom and was pulling on a set of robes he had yanked from his cupboard. "Come on, let's go."
They hurried out of the apartment and down the fire escape.
"It's safe to Apparate down here, just in case you ever wanted to know." Harry winked at Draco and left with a loud crack.
"Thanks," Draco whispered. "I'll remember that."
Harry spent most of the weekend lying about the apartment. Draco had come by to see him each day, bringing much-needed comfort. Though Hermione was spending the weekend at their apartment, she and Ron were holed up in his room, only emerging at mealtimes. Without Draco, Harry would have had a much harder time dealing with the loss. He listened if Harry felt like talking, but he was just as content to sit with Harry's head in his lap, stroking his hair. On Sunday afternoon, an owl carrying a letter from Zak's parents arrived, with details of the funeral set for Tuesday morning.
"I should be able to get some time off from work," Hermione said to Ron.
Harry shot a hopeful glance to Draco. Was it fair to expect Draco to go with him?
"I should be able to as well. If anything, Tracey or Eddie can cover for me for a couple of hours," Draco said.
He had spoken too soon.
After having gone to the trouble of asking Fernley for permission to have some personal time off and after he made sure Tracey and Eddie could cover for him, it would have been far too easy to have everything work out as planned.
Draco had been about to leave to meet Harry for a late breakfast when an urgent Ministry owl had arrived at his kitchen window. He tore open the letter and read it quickly. "Fuck!"
Apparently, Eddie, his and Tracey's capable, but inexperienced and sometimes butter-fingered assistant, had been carrying several large glass phials of simple boil-curing potion and dropped them. He proceeded to slip and fall in the potion and had pulled down their entire supply of Wolfsbane Potion with him.
Draco tried to keep his temper in check and carefully moved away from all glass objects within his range. He thought he'd seen the worst from Neville Longbottom at school, but he believed that even Longbottom would have had a hard time topping this.
Draco growled in anger. Not only was the Wolfsbane Potion very difficult to make, but the full moon was drawing closer and they needed their supply. Since Voldemort's ultimate downfall, the vilification of werewolves had ceased. The Ministry now controlled the distribution of the potion to werewolves, and potion makers had to be licensed by the Ministry to make it. Draco and Tracey were two of Britain's licensed Wolfsbane Potion makers.
With a shaking hand, Draco scribbled a note of apology to Harry, and said that he'd definitely see him when he got back. He hoped to all that was heavenly that Harry would forgive him, again. Draco took a calming breath of air and Apparated to the Ministry.
Draco flung open the door to the lab. Tracey was already there helping Eddie to clean himself and the floor.
"Draco, I'm so –" Eddie began.
"Save it!" Draco snapped. "Tracey, get over here and start these cauldrons."
She had the good sense not to argue with him and got up immediately to help him begin the preliminary mixture.
Three hours later, the room was finally cleaned up and back in some sort of order, and Draco and Tracey had gotten halfway through the potion. Tracey excused herself to go to the loo while the potion simmered for the required five minutes before the next ingredient was added. Draco looked up at Eddie who had stayed out of his way through the potion making process. All three of them would need to be present for the next step to add the wolfsbane to each of the three cauldrons they were using, and stir five times in a clockwise direction and ten times in an anti-clockwise direction immediately following. Tracey returned and they each measured their wolfsbane and stood at their respective cauldrons.
"Eddie, if you fuck this up, I'll have you murdered," Draco said, very calmly, seconds before they had to add their ingredients.
Eddie laughed and then, when he noticed that Draco was quite serious, stared.
Later, Draco laughed nastily to himself. The look on Eddie's face was almost worth not being with Harry. Almost.
It was past midnight when Harry, Ron and Hermione returned from New York. Once in the apartment, Hermione and Ron had gone straight to bed. Harry sat down on the couch and rested his head in his hands. He was absolutely shattered. Exhausted from the anguish he'd been forced to bear by himself, and from the gut-clenching worry that he and Ron could be next. He found that he missed Draco's soothing presence especially; more than he thought he could ever miss a person in a single moment. He was in so much emotional distress it took his breath. And now he was alone again. Holding back a sob, he got up and went to have a bath.
Harry got into bed and covered himself with the duvet, trying to warm up; despite the hot shower, he was shivering feverishly. He rested his head on his pillow and caught the lingering scent of Draco's 212. Groaning loudly, he clung to the pillow tightly, willing the desperation for human comfort to go away. You're an Auror for Merlin's sake! Suck it up!
But he couldn't. Harry made up his mind, got out of bed and pulled on his clothes.
Draco tossed and turned; sleep was evading him. He had a right to be tired, but he couldn't get his mind to relax. He'd gone to Harry's apartment after he'd finished with the Wolfsbane Potion, but they hadn't yet returned. He resisted the urge to keep checking back and instead, tried to have dinner and read a book, to get his mind off Harry. Neither had worked. Draco assumed that Harry would be far too tired from the funeral to want him around, but he hoped that Harry wasn't taking things too hard.
He jumped out of his skin at the loud clanging noise of the doorbell.
He padded quietly downstairs, not knowing who or what to expect on the other side of the door, and almost shouted out loud with relief when he looked through the peephole. It was Harry. His feelings rapidly changed to those of sympathy when he saw how miserable and pale Harry looked. He unlocked the door quickly.
"I'm sorry to wake you," Harry began slowly. "I just needed to… see you."
Draco's heart leapt.
"You didn't wake me, I promise. Come inside."
Draco turned on the lamps in the kitchen and gestured for Harry to sit. "Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Or maybe a stiff drink?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. Harry looked terrible.
A ghost of a smile crossed Harry's features. "No, thank you, I'm okay."
"Have you eaten?"
"No," he said. "I haven't been very hungry."
Draco sat opposite Harry and took his hands, surprised to find them so cold. He rubbed them together in his own hands, trying to warm them.
Harry looked up at Draco, his emerald eyes bright.
"I missed you today," he said. "I missed you so much, it hurt. And to be surrounded by all of those people, and seeing one of my best friends, who'd barely begun to live, gone, just like that…" A tear slid down his cheek.
Draco brushed it away and Harry continued.
"I was scared. I know Ron's scared, probably more than I am, since he's starting a family and all; and I just don't want to bother him with this. But he's got Hermione, at least, to help him carry it all. She's really amazing, that girl." Harry looked at Draco with his startlingly green eyes. "I couldn't face being alone by myself anymore."
"Well, you've got me, Harry," Draco said, bringing Harry's chilly fingers to his lips. In more ways than one, he thought. He vaguely wondered why this thought didn't bother him anymore. "Let's get some sleep, shall we?" He got up and pulled Harry to his feet.
"Oh, I couldn't, I –"
Draco kissed him.
"You can and you are," he whispered on Harry's lips. He wrapped his arms around Harry, feeling him tremble. He led Harry up the stairs and into his bedroom. He took off his bathrobe and draped it on one of the posts of his bed. He got under the duvet and pulled it back from the other side of the bed.
Harry pushed off his trainers and took his jeans off, leaving them on the chair near to where he stood.
Draco smiled warmly at him as he approached. "I promise I won't bite," he said.
Harry smiled and took a deep breath. This was very different when he wasn't drunk, and it wasn't his bed. He got in beside Draco and covered himself up.
Draco put out the lamps with his wand and moved closer to Harry. He placed an arm over Harry and found his hand, allowing himself to relax into the curve of Harry's back.
"Goodnight," they whispered in unison. They chuckled and snuggled closer together.
…I think I'm falling in love with you, Draco added silently.
On the other side of the bed, Harry was thinking the same thing.