Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling or Taylor Swift so I own nothing but the plot :)

A/N: Short chapter but next one will be longer!

Chapter 6

I left my scarf there at your sister's house, and you've still got it in your drawer even now.

The next day, Harry was awoken once again by Hermione. "Harry! Harry, are you here?" she called into the house.

Harry groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. After Draco had left the night before, he had drank pretty damn near an entire bottle of firewhisky before dragging himself up to bed and passing out. He had woken up long enough this morning to inform his boss that he was taking a leave of absence, effective immediately. He had a feeling he was going to get fired, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment. "Oh, Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked sympathetically from his doorway.

Harry pulled the pillow off his head and glared at his friend. "Don't want to talk. Head is pounding. Probably gonna throw up," he grumbled.

Hermione sighed and disappeared. She appeared again a moment later with a few vials of potion. She handed him them one by one which he dutifully swallowed. After all of the potions kicked in, Harry started to feel a bit better physically. "Harry, what's going on? Everyone at the Ministry is all up in arms because you apparently quit without notice."

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I didn't quit, I just said I was taking a leave of absence. If they fire me, then so be it."

"Did something happen last night? I thought you weren't going to drink like this anymore," Hermione reprimanded with a concerned look on her face.

Harry sighed. "Draco came over last night," Harry began and then proceeded to tell Hermione all about the terrible end to the evening.

Hermione pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back while he cried. As Harry cried, he found himself lost in memories of Draco and him together. There was one in particular that kept replaying in his head, despite his best efforts to stop it.

Harry was over at Draco's flat, picking him up for a date. The two had been seeing each other for several months at this point, and things were going incredibly well. "Draco, you almost ready?" Harry called as he looked around his boyfriend's bedroom. Draco was in the bathroom still getting ready.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute," Draco called back.

Harry continued to look around curiously. They very rarely spent any time at Draco's flat because Harry's place was bigger. When he was at Draco's, he felt like he was getting a glimpse into the real Draco. Harry found himself staring at something sticking out of the closet that looked awfully familiar. He made his way over to the closet and smirked in amusement. Hanging in Draco's closet was Harry's old Gryffindor scarf that he must have left there one of the very first times the two had shagged. "What are you doing?" Draco asked from the door to the bathroom.

Harry jumped slightly, startled by Draco's sudden appearance. "You stole my scarf," he accused playfully.

"I did not! You left it here, and I just...kept it," Draco responded indignantly.

Harry laughed. "I must have left this here like what? The third time we shagged? Why'd you keep it?" he asked out of curiosity.

Draco flushed slightly. "Because even then, I knew I'd want something to remember you by. Whether this grew into more than just a good fuck every once in awhile, which if I'm being honest I had hoped it would even back then, even if I couldn't admit it, or if eventually you just got bored and stopped coming around, I knew that I'd always cherish our time together," he responded. "Merlin, that came out far cheesier than I intended."

Harry smiled and pulled Draco in for a kiss. "You had a crush on me so you stole my scarf, my Gryffindor scarf," he teased.

Draco mock glared at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You had a crush on me too," he retorted, sticking out his tongue childishly.

Harry simply smiled before leaning forward and pulling Draco's tongue into his mouth. After a brief but passionate kiss, Harry pulled away to look his boyfriend in the eye. "I love you, Draco Malfoy," he whispered, not taking his eyes off the other man. He had never said it before, and he could feel his heart speed up in apprehension of what Draco's reaction would be.

The blond man in front of him hesitated for half a second before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I love you too, Harry Potter," he muttered, his lips brushing Harry's with every syllable.

Harry pulled Draco closer to him to him, smiling against the blond man's lips. He deepened the kiss as he slowly directed Draco backward towards the bed. When the back of his lover's knees hit the bed, he gently pushed Draco down onto the bed before crawling on top of him. Draco smiled up at him, eyes twinkling with genuine happiness. "I thought we were going out to dinner," he drawled with his trademark smirk.

Harry returned the smile and ground his hips slowly against the man underneath him. "Dinner can wait, don't you think?" he whispered seductively and nibbled on the blond's ear lobe.

Draco moaned and arched his back to make more contact with Harry. "I suppose dinner can wait," he said somewhat breathlessly as Harry continued his ministrations on Draco's ear before trailing down to his neck.

After they finished making love, the couple laid entwined on Draco's bed. "I spent 20 bloody minutes on my hair and now look at it, Potter," Draco whined.

Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him as he briefly kissed Draco on the cheek. "Well, I for one think you look incredibly sexy," Harry responded.

Draco huffed in a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation. "Well I'm not going out in public like this," he informed Harry haughtily.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Then how about we stay in, and I cook you dinner," he suggested, slowly sitting up in bed.

And that is the story of how Harry Potter ended up cooking dinner with Draco Malfoy in nothing but his boxers and a Gryffindor scarf, a Gryffindor scarf that was presumably still at Draco's flat.

After what felt like an eternity, Harry managed to pull himself together. He sat up straight and brushed the stray tears off his face. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione murmured sympathetically.

Harry just shook his head. "I'll be fine. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," he snapped miserably.

"Things will get better, I promise. It just seems bad now because last night is so fresh, but it was getting better before then, right?" Hermione asked optimistically.

"Yeah, you're right, as always. I may just need a few days to wallow. It hurts, 'Mione, it really hurts," Harry whispered forlornly.

"I know, Harry, I know, but Ron and I are here for you whenever you're done wallowing," she reminded him gently, giving him another hug.

The pair of friends stayed like this for awhile until it was time for Hermione to head back to work. The moment that she was out of his house, Harry settled himself into his couch and drank himself into a stupor so that he didn't have to feel the pain of his broken heart any longer.