Confusion was too tame a word to describe the state Draco spent his night. Total bewilderment, perhaps. With a big side dish of heartbreak, sprinkled throughout with little dashes of anger.
Harry, on the other hand, seemed totally fine, and didn't that just make Draco worse? He might have even though it was just a disappointing dream and given up hope, if he didn't keep catching Harry staring sidelong at him. Those emerald eyes always flicked away when Draco turned his head, and a light blush would creep onto his neck.
So Draco kept hoping. And waiting.
He dreamt that night of sitting on the grass in the apple orchard under the light of the moon. Every detail was the same as it had happened, but with a much better ending.
"Don't waste time on what-ifs," Draco said, holding Harry's hand in his. They leaned closer and closer, drawn together by some irresistible magnetic force they couldn't explain.
"Draco…" Harry whispered, his breath ghosting across Draco's lips. His lips followed, sealing themselves to his gently. Draco responded eagerly, bringing his free hand up to rake through messy black hair. He scratched his nails across Harry's scalp, drawing a groan from deep in the man's chest. Harry brought hands to his hips, gripping them tightly, urging Draco's lips open with his tongue.
He pushed the taller man to his back on the grass, settling his body above the blond's. Harry's mouth moved down across his jaw, nipping at his neck. Callused hands roamed up along his sides and down again.
"Harry," Draco moaned as a hand slid along his waistband, dipping fingertips teasingly inside. Teeth pulled at his earlobe, making his gasp and arch when the hand slid back down the front of his trousers to grasp his-
"What the HELL do you want now?!"
Draco shot up in his bed, hard and gasping. Harry's anger echoing through the house was sufficient to get rid of his little problem as he climbed out of bed to see what the cause of such yelling was.
Harry was back in the Floo Room when Draco peeked through the open door. He had last night's shirt on over sleep pants and was glaring coldly at Granger and Ronald Weasley. Draco hoped this being woken by shouting wasn't going to be a regular occurrence at Grimmauld Place.
"I didn't say anything last night since it was your birthday, but how could you bring him?" Weasley was demanding. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"I wanted him to be there. I trust him. I'm not crazy, I haven't 'gone Dark,' and I'm not kicking him out so he can rot in Azkaban!"
"Harry, please, we just want to talk with you! Can we go sit down and talk about-"
"No." Granger was cut off by Harry's cold reply.
"Harry, I don't think the Floo Room is really the place for a conversation," she wheedled.
"It doesn't really matter where we are since there isn't going to be a conversation. I told you last time you barged in here to owl ahead, and I didn't get any owl this morning. I see you've decided to poke your noses into things that aren't your business again and enter my house without an invitation besides." Harry's posture was rigid, no friendliness in his words or gestures. "I'll be sealing my Floo with a password today and updating the wards. You can either leave now or I can throw you out. Again." Weasley's face twisted, red with fury.
"I don't know when you turned into such a bastard, but we're trying to help you! You know Malfoy as well as we do. You can't trust him! Especially with Teddy," he shouted, ushering his wife towards the Floo.
"I would dare say I know Draco better than any of you, and I still trust him. Especially with Teddy," Harry growled back as Weasley stepped into the Floo, and then he was gone.
-0-
Harry slumped as Ron spun in the flames and disappeared.
"You don't have to do that."
He spun to face to door, where the quiet voice had come from. Draco was leaning against the frame in just a pair of pajama pants, staring at him with a curious light in his eye.
"If I kick you out, then you have to go to Azkaban. Unless you'd rather have that?" Harry asked in a weary voice. He hadn't slept well, haunted by the moment-that-could-have-been in the Weasleys' orchard.
"That doesn't mean you have to through your friends out for me. You don't have to save me, Potter," Draco returned evenly. Harry grit his teeth.
"Has it occurred to you that maybe I'm protecting my own interest?" he snapped out before he could stop himself, then flushed. He hadn't meant to betray so much of himself.
It wasn't that he didn't want to like Draco, it was that he didn't want to let himself like Draco. He was the man's guardian, his jailer. He didn't accept custody over Malfoy to become his lover, for Merlin's sake!
Somewhere, deep inside himself, he was afraid of falling in love. He couldn't forget the first man he'd loved and what had happened to him. He would never shake the image of Theo Nott laying broken in that graveyard, empty eyes reflecting the stars. He'd never told Theo he loved him, neither of them had. The situation was too dangerous to admit it, even to themselves.
But here was safe. There was no chance that Draco might have to kill him or torture him under his father's orders. The War was over, done, finished. No one was anyone's prisoner here. Draco was more of a restricted guest than a prisoner.
So why wouldn't he let himself fall in love?
"Oh? And what's your interest here?" Draco's voice was a purr, making Harry's heart beat faster.
"The boys love having you around. You leave and they'll probably go back to throwing fits and making me come home early from the Ministry." He almost felt bad using his sons as an excuse, but it was such a flimsy tale he could tell Draco saw right through it.
"Really?" Draco smirked, walking toward him slowly. Harry found himself being backed toward the wall. "You know, I don't believe that. Much as you love your kids, I think your interests are all. About. You."
-0-
Draco leaned in close, breathing his words across Harry's skin.
"Just admit it," he urged. "Harry…"
The shorter man looked up at him, panic reflected in his wide green eyes. Before Draco could make another move, he turned on his heel and apparated away.
"Fuck!" Draco punched the wall. He'd scared him off for sure. Life was about to get incredibly awkward in Number Twelve.
Awkward didn't even begin to describe it.
For a week, Harry went out of his way to avoid being alone with Draco. He danced away whenever they brushed against each other accidentally. He refused to meet his eyes.
Draco was at the end of his rope. He couldn't stop dreaming of the kiss-that-almost-was, each one turning into a thousand different possibilities that all ended with them pressed together in the grass. He changed for bed, tossing his clothes angrily across the room. He was tired of dreaming of things that never happened, dreams that left him aroused and unsatisfied. He almost wished the nightmares were back.
He should have known better than to wish. The Fates listen in at the worst moments sometimes.
He was watching the Battle of Hogwarts again. The Dark Lord came up from the forest with the body of Harry Potter, proudly proclaiming him dead. The Death Eaters threw him on the ground in the courtyard and he bounced, limp like a rag doll.
The Dark Lord gave his speech, then Longbottom gave his own little speech. He swung at the great snake with the sword, but he missed this time. The swing overbalanced him and he fell to the ground. Nagini struck, sinking fangs deep into his neck.
No, that wasn't right! Draco wasn't supposed to stand there and watch Longbottom bleed out on the flagstones. Longbottom killed the snake, then Harry appeared, this wasn't right!
But Harry wasn't moving. His glasses were gone; open, glassy eyes stared up at the sky. Death Eaters laughed mockingly as Longbottom gurgled. They cast spell after spell at Harry's body, making it flop lifelessly. The Dark Lord joined in, cutting him open, setting fire to his body.
No, it wasn't right! That wasn't how it happened, they won, the Dark Lord died! Harry didn't die, he was alright, Harry was alive!
Harry didn't jump up and start dueling. He just lay there, bleeding sluggishly, his clothes burning away. The Dark Lord stepped forward, crouching by the body, hiding it from view. When he stood up again, he held Harry's severed head high in the air. He laughed, high and cold, and his crimson eyes met Draco's.
Draco screamed.
-0-
The scream echoed through the empty halls of Grimmauld Place. Harry sat bolt upright, clutching one of his knives. The scream didn't belong to Reggie or Teddy, they never had nightmares.
Draco.
Harry didn't think, he just moved, reacting to the terror he heard in the man's voice. He grabbed a shirt, just barely pulling it over his head as he apparated away.
Draco was thrashing, stuck in his dreams, caught in his sheets. Harry caught his shoulder tightly, taking both wrists in one hand to hold him still.
"Draco. Draco! It isn't real, it's just a dream," he said, half soothing, half yelling. "It's not real. Draco, c'mon, wake up! You need to wake up!"
Silver eyes flashed open, roaming wildly across the room. They locked on his, and Draco stilled, panting.
"You're alive," was all he said, then he surged forward, connecting his lips to Harry's.
Harry dropped his wrists in surprise and Draco wove one hand into Harry's hair, clutching at it tightly. The other gripped the back of Harry's neck as Draco kissed him harshly and desperately.
Just as suddenly as he began, Draco broke off. He looked away, face red with shame and embarrassment. He let go of Harry, dropping his hands to twist them in his lap.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just…nightmare. You died at Hogwarts." His blush spread down his neck and bare chest.
"I-it's fine," Harry stuttered, struggling to catch up with what just happened. He let go of the blond's shoulder. "Shouldn't have woken you like that, but you were screaming and…"
He understood the desperation Draco had felt. He understood the relief he had felt, just seeing his face. He'd had nightmares like that, too. He still had nightmares. He couldn't have a night's sleep without one.
"I…I'll let you get back to sleep." He turned to go back to bed when a pale hand caught his wrist.
"Stay." Draco looked at him with wide eyes, still full of fear. "Just…just until I fall asleep. Please stay."
Harry gritted his teeth at the memories. 'This isn't then,' he told himself firmly. 'Draco isn't Theo, and this isn't Riddle House. This is different, no one will die tonight.'
"Alright."
He climbed into bed next to Draco, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders as the taller man curled into his chest. He was still panting, his heart racing. Harry rubbed gentle circles on his back.
"Sleep, Draco, I'm right here."