yuletide treasure

7/30/2019 Yuletide Treasure

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Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own athttp://archiveofourown.org/works/229062 .

Rating: ExplicitArchive Warning: No Archive Warnings ApplyCategory: M/MFandom: Harry Potter - J. K. RowlingRelationship: Draco Malfoy/Harry PotterCharacter: Harry Potter, Draco MalfoyAdditional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Partnership, Christmas, Community:

hd_holidays, HP: EWE, Angst, First Kiss, First Time, Stakeout,Arguing

Stats: Published: 2011-07-27 Words: 10557

Yuletide Treasure

by RurouniHime

Summary

Harry finds he has a lot to lose this Christmas.

Notes

This fic was written for the 2008 hd_holidays fest.

It was dark. Harry's eyes had adjusted to the lack of lighting spells, and he

could see in the faint natural light that Draco was shaking. Harry began tounbutton his topcoat, aiming for one of the dry sweaters underneath. "Here,take those off and put this on."

Draco's eyes glimmered as he watched Harry shed his jacket and yank thejumper over his head. The cold bit into Harry's torso even through the othersweater he wore, and he shivered as he handed the jumper to his partnerand struggled back into his coat before the heat wisped away.

Then it was his turn to watch as Draco removed his lengthy wool overcoat

and set about pulling his arms free of the two drenched layers underneath.The fabric had sucked tight to Draco's skin; Harry could hear theuncontrolled chattering of Draco's teeth as he tugged the soaked garmentsoff his arms and over his head. His shirt rode up, caught in the wet clothing,briefly baring the intensely pale skin of Draco's chest and sides. Harry saw
http://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/HP:%20EWEhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Angsthttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/First%20Kisshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/First%20Timehttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Stakeouthttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/No%20Archive%20Warnings%20Applyhttp://archiveofourown.org/works/229062http://users/RurouniHime/pseuds/RurouniHimehttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Arguinghttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Stakeouthttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/First%20Timehttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/First%20Kisshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Angsthttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/HP:%20EWEhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Community:%20hd_holidayshttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Christmashttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Partnershiphttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Friends%20to%20Lovershttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Draco%20Malfoyhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Harry%20Potterhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Draco%20Malfoy*s*Harry%20Potterhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Harry%20Potter%20-%20J*d*%20K*d*%20Rowlinghttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/M*s*Mhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/No%20Archive%20Warnings%20Applyhttp://archiveofourown.org/tags/Explicithttp://archiveofourown.org/works/229062http://archiveofourown.org/


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the silver sheen of scar tissue crossing upwards from Draco's hip anddisappearing on its way toward his opposite shoulder. He winced and lookeddown at the floor between his shoes.

Draco gave a muffled grunt and finally freed himself of his top layers. Heflung them aside, hustled his arms into Harry's dry jumper, and pulled hiscoat back on over it, then sat with his arms clutched around his middle,rubbing his sides with both hands.

It was Christmas Eve.

"Been a lousy night," Harry said.

"Yeah." The sullen tone of Draco's voice spoke of layers and layers ofunderstatement.

It was a good hour after their scheduled time of departure. The dampeningshield had risen early by Harry's watch, and without their magic, they'd hadno choice but to walk their way out through the woods surrounding the

massive Derringsby estate. Harry wasn't sure exactly how he had missedstepping into the concealed hole under the snow, seeing as he was right infront of Draco, but Draco definitely had not missed it. His fall hadn't hurthim, but the snow's quick soak through his outer layers had been alarming.Not to mention the fact that Harry's knees were aching horribly and mostlikely bleeding from the constant running into fallen branches and treetrunks in the thick darkness. Draco's annoyed hiss of "This is bloodyuseless!" had sealed the deal. And now they sat, in one of the outlyingdecrepit sheds on an estate that was supposed to be abandoned, waiting forthe sky to clear enough for the moon to light their path out from under the

dampening shield.

And it was Christmas Eve. Harry rubbed his knees and winced again.

"Can't heal you, you know," Draco grumbled. He lifted his head. Harry couldsee that his shivering had lessened, and now Draco was wearing a sourfrown. "Can't do anything. Can't even dry my bloody clothes."

Harry sighed. "Draco, how was I to know that they'd raise the shield early? Itwasn't supposed to go up until half seven, when they all leave for the night!"

"You might have thought of the holiday!" Draco snapped. His cheeksdarkened; Harry imagined they would have been deeply pink if the lightwere right. "Even criminals have families to go home to!"

"Look, the moon will come out, and then we'll just walk out of here, allright?" Harry hunched his shoulders, feeling frustrated under that fierystare. "An hour more, tops."

"Or a sudden storm, with our luck," Draco grumbled.

Harry fought not to respond in kind. It wouldn't fix anything, and it wouldjust make them even more likely to strangle each other. Half a year ago, theywould have revelled in the time together, trapped as they were. There wouldhave been joking instead of snappish commentary. Funny how much afriendship could lose in a few months.


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Harry nearly took out his wand, but then realised that fiddling with it washis only immediate future, and pushed it into his pocket again. The nightoutside was quiet, though there was definitely wind higher up; the lightshimmered swiftly from bright to dark as the cloud layer passed overhead.The shed was nearly silent. Harry felt as though he were underwater, whatwith the way the light rippled and the quiet pressed on his ears. Goodenough, anyway; he didn't have anything to say.

Abruptly, Draco let out an irritated sound and slumped over, his elbows onhis knees and his head hanging.

"What's the matter now?" Harry asked.

"Nothing's the matter. Nothing I can do anything about, anyway."

"Obviously something's wrong," Harry snapped. "Why don't you rant a littleand get it out of your system so we can both have some peace?"

"Excuse me for having somewhere to be tonight," Draco returned in anexasperated tone. He didn't look at Harry. There was a downward tilt to hismouth, and his eyes had taken on a hard glaze, fixed on the splintered wallof the shack.

Harry blinked. "Thought you weren't going to the Manor this Christmas."

Draco did finally shoot him a glare that was several layers deep inaggravation. "I had a date, Potter! I'm missing my date."

Harry's mouth went a little dry. He opened and closed it without saying

anything. Draco was still looking at him, watching him gape. Finally, Harryturned away, frowning. He fixed his eyes on the same wall Draco had beenlooking at. "Fine."

The silence that took over was not really silent at all. Harry felt wired, likehe might have to leap up and start pacing if something else didn't presentitself soon. Draco was fidgeting, his hands moving unceasingly, a steadyturn, turn, turn of fingers around fingers. It hiked up Harry's irritation veryunexpectedly.

"Would you stop?"

Draco's hands halted. Harry could feel his partner staring at him. Draco'sbreathing was soft and shallow, and Harry gritted his teeth against anotherwave of impatience.

But instead of responding, Draco sighed and stood up. He took a few stepsacross the small room and then came back. Harry met his eyes for longenough to witness Draco's gaze cutting smoothly away, as if he'd beensurveying the room and Harry had merely been in his line of sight. Harry felthis cheeks heat. He looked back down again.

"Could really use a Firewhisky right now," he muttered, more to himself thanto Draco.

Draco sniffed. "I'd be having a Firewhisky right now."


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Oh, yes. On that date. Harry frowned. Off to a pub then, or maybe to hiscompanion's flat with his personal store of liquor. A sharp sense ofsatisfaction lit fire in Harry's chest Draco was here, not there beforefading away and letting the pervading chill rush in again. Harry clenched hishands around either arm and rubbed briskly up and down, trying to worksome heat back into the tingling mass of muscle and skin. He watched Dracowalk, from their ramshackle bench to the far wall and along it to the corner,then back his direction. Draco's booted feet made soft thunks as they

touched down on the wooden floor. Steady steps, circling the room. Thefinely embroidered hem of Draco's long coat brushed across the dark leathernear his ankles, and the material of the boots shifted as he moved, curvingand smoothing with each step. Harry tried to picture the pub Draco wasmissing, but all he could see was a deep yellow glow along uneven walls, thedark timbers of a too-low ceiling, and a well-worn but still gleaming bar topmarked here and there with rings of cool liquid. The bartender was youngeven though his hair was graying, and he'd learned the fine art of placingdrinks in front of patrons without being noticed. He kept his establishmentneat and filled with loud laughter, soaked in a pleasant cidery smell. Lit by

merry firelight.

It was the last pub Harry had been to with Draco, a facet of retrospectiveclarity that turned vague and foggy as often as it shone.

They'd gone immediately after work, in good spirits from a stellar day notstuck behind their desks. Draco had a ringing laugh, the sort that madestrangers turn and smile in spite of the fact that they had no idea what the

joke was. Harry felt as if he might have already had a few, the way he waswalking, his adrenaline and general happiness making him unsteady on his

feet. He was exhausted. The last high before the crash, he'd said, and Dracohad nodded like he'd crashed before.

Draco could have gone home to Steven Shores, his boyfriend of a month ortwo. Steven had a flat of his own somewhere in Ealing, but they might aswell have both resided in Draco's flat on the Islington side of Bloomsbury.Steven's not coming, Draco said in response to Harry's question, he'sworking late.

Surprisingly enough, not much alcohol was consumed in the pub. Justenough to force the use of the public Floo instead of Apparition. Harry had

been over to Draco's often enough to know about his expert collection of drywines and savory ales. It was a marvelous evening, devoid of the vagueawkwardness that Harry had been catching glimpses of between them forabout a week.

By the end of the evening, both of them were respectably tipsy. Harryremembered falling into a snooze on the couch beside Draco, who was stillwaxing on in a muddled voice about the benefits of cherries in rhubarb pie.

And, as often occurred with respectably tipsy people, they managed to leaninto each other, legs and arms flung about and heads tilted onto shoulders

by the time they woke up. Unfortunately, they woke with pounding heads tofind Steven looking down at them both with a shocked expression.

The oncoming argument had coiled itself tightly between Steven and Dracoduring the time it took for Harry to figure out his shoes and decide that


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Flooing home would be the safer choice than Apparating. Steven started inbefore he'd fully vanished into the flames. But Harry hadn't thought itanything major: their position had not been terribly compromising, and theywere obviously clothed. An exasperated explanation from Draco aboutfriendly nights at the pub should have put it all into the proper perspective.

Only Harry wasn't sure what happened after that. All he knew was thatDraco was suddenly single again, tight-lipped and gloomy-faced, and

certainly not willing to talk about it. When Harry asked, Draco only lookedhim in the eye, shrugged, and said that it had been coming for a whileanyway.

And then, when it should have got better, it just got more awkward. Harrywas still having a hell of a time figuring out just where it had all turnedaround and gone pear-shaped.

It could have been the immense workload that ensued, or the possibility thatDraco didn't take break-ups as well as he claimed to. But Draco's vocabulary

narrowed to a spectacular ten words whenever he spoke to Harry, and hispresence after hours indeed, after the instant the clock in their officeclicked to "off work" diminished to a low goodnight and a set of quick stepsout the door before Harry could even begin to gather his things. Draco wasno huge talker, but mumbling was definitely not his style either. Nor wasignoring Harry. Even when they'd hated each other, ignoring one anotherhad never been an issue.

It wasn't until it occurred to Harry that he could remember very clearly howwarm Draco's side had been, pressed up against his, that he himself beganto fumble his words. Draco was a handsome man; Harry had told him so

many times when they were drunk, mostly in agreement to Draco's conceitedclaims of unrivalled gorgeousness. Draco was a very talkative drunk, all themore so because he was otherwise so reserved. The unfortunate fact,though, was that Draco rarely talked sense when he was drunk. Or hetalked too much sense. Harry was usually just as drunk, and therefore alittle unclear about it all later.

But there was nothing unclear about his memory of Draco's body heat. Astrange thing to strike so deeply. Usually smell was the most telling memory-sense, and he could faintly remember Draco's aftershave, and the tang of

sourness where Draco's third pint had dripped a little onto his collar. Butthe heat was vivid; Harry became distinctly aware of a void against his sidewhere Draco had leaned; that next morning, and for days after, Harry couldfeel that he was gone.

It was, and had always been, particularly hard not talking to a friend. Harrysuppressed a sigh and made himself focus on something other than his ownhands. His shoes, perhaps. He remembered his rows with Ron when theywere younger, and how the days had felt especially endless and ugly to himas a result. And maybe he'd forgotten just how painful and depressive it had

been, but the recent weeks had been desperately stressful: barely speakingto his partner when they shared a single office, and unable to find any wayof bridging the gap by getting together outside of work Everything hesuggested went down as if sucked into a swamp. He knew Draco consideredthe offers, but he didn't really answer either way anymore, and Harry was


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beginning to doubt that they'd ever been all that close. He felt like he barelyknew the man anymore; Draco wasn't allowing him to.

Harry did know that he was feeling some level of relief with respect to nothaving to deal with Steven's presence any longer. But it was a small comfortin the face of everything else that had followed.

We used to just talk, Harry wanted to say. Maybe he could just say it. Maybe

that was the key to opening that side of the relationship again. Then again,Harry had no idea just how volatile Draco's present mood was.

What he needed was sturdy ground, something they could both be happyabout. Harry searched his mind for several seconds, and then found it."Supposed to get some clear weather tomorrow. Christmas Day."

Draco mumbled something in response, but it wasn't quite hostile. Harrycontinued. "It's nice to be able to think of Christmas as a good thing."

Draco glanced at him, but didn't answer immediately. Harry felt his cheeks

heat a bit. Draco knew about his Muggle relatives, knew almost all of it, infact. There were things Harry had said in the dark and damp of stakeouts,waiting for their target to act, things he'd told Draco that he hadn't voicedaloud even to Ron and Hermione. They weren't particularly secretive orembarrassing, just things he'd never felt like speaking aloud to friendlycompany. Ron was a talker, Hermione a doer, but Draco most definitely hada listening talent that wasn't nearly as present in the others. It was almosteasier to talk to him.

Harry wanted that back.

Draco looked at him for a few seconds longer and then cleared his throatsoftly. "I've always loved Christmas."

Harry smiled and met his partner's eyes. "What do you think you'll get underyour tree?"

Draco blinked. His brows knit. "Hadn't thought about it."

The answer was less than deep, but Harry practiced a little bit of patience."I'm hoping for a set of mock Quidditch robes for that new Seeker from

Ballycastle. Don't know if I'll get it. But it's what I want most. What do youreally want?"

Draco made a sound somewhere between a snort and a grunt. "I asked for aset of emerald encrusted silverware and matching wine flutes."

Harry chuckled. "Oh, come on. That's not what you really wanted! Silverwareand wine glasses?"

Something changed visibly in Draco's entire body, a tightening of everymuscle, a rigidity to his very skin. "I shouldn't have to tell you what I reallywant," Draco hissed, naked bitterness seething in his voice.

"What?" Harry snapped back, angry all over again at the razors in the otherman's words. He stood up, glaring down at Draco. "I'll just read your mindthen, shall I? Obviously it's something that's made you hate me, so it must be


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my fault!"

"Oh, that's it," Draco scoffed, "that's absolutely it. Congratulations to theheroic martyr."

"You know what?" Harry shot back. "I've had it with you, tonight and everyother night. What the hell is your problem? I've only tried to be pleasant, inspite of you"

"In spite of me?" Draco's face had gone red, and he spit the words out,jabbing a finger at his own chest. "Me, Potter? This is none of my doing!"

"You've been a right bastard all month!" Harry exploded. Draco jerked back,looking much like a serpent about to strike. But Harry was ready for it,shielded by a frustration so pungent that he felt anything Draco said wouldskitter right off of it. "You barely look me in the eye anymore, and every timeI try to fix whatever I did, you look at me like I've suddenly turned into a

Jobberknoll!"

"That's because every time I try to act friendly,youact like I've caught somesort of contagious fever!" Draco cried.

Harry felt himself redden. He hardly felt the biting cold anymore. But Dracowasn't done. He jumped up from the bench and threw his hands up. "I don'tunderstand you anymore, Potter! Half the time, it's like you can't wait to getaway from me. Do I really offend you that much?"

"Come off it, Draco! You're the one who's been avoiding me! I would likenothing better than to be around you, but you act like I've said something

untoward, or whatever that word is you're always using!"

Draco stalked up to him and leaned over, pushing into his space. "You have,as far as I'm concerned. Make up your bloody mind!"

"You make up yours!" Harry said stubbornly. "Be my friend, or don't, but doone or the other because you are driving me absolutely insane."

"How can I be your friend?" Draco shouted. He sat down, still too close, stillin Harry's face. "One day you bloody well want friendship, the next day

you're confusing the hell out of me with your flirting, and the next, you're so

far away I can barely see you!"

"Flirting?" Harry's stomach gave a swift, decisive churn. He clenched his jaw,feeling the roll in his gut. "You think I was flirting with you?"

"I don't know! I have no idea what you're doing at all anymore! Do you evenknow what you're doing?"

"I know I'm not trying to ruin our friendship like you seem to be!"

"There's not a whole lot left to ruin, is there?" Draco's anger was tangiblenow. "Salazar! First I think you're bumbling around trying to change things,but then you backtrack like nobody's business. You've completely left me outof the loop!"

"If I even knew what loop you were talking about"


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"It's obvious that Idon't even know what loop I'm talking about!" Draco cutin. "Do you want things to change? Oh, no, maybe you just want them to end.

Just commit either way, Harry!"

Harry's stomach began to ache. He flushed hotly. "I do not want things toend, what on earth are you on about? When have I ever said I didn't want tobe friends anymore?"

"Bloody Potter, you say it every time you avoid me!"

"I'm not the one avoiding you!" Harry cried. "Draco, I'm not trying to avoidyou! II invite you to the pub, I offer to buy lunch You're the one who'savoiding me!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare act like you're the innocent here!"

Harry's face was very hot. "I never said I was! I don't know what you wantfrom me, Draco!"

"I just want an explanation!" Draco shouted. "An apology for treating me likesomeone you barely know, for being so damned fickle about absolutelyeverything you do! I want you to say you're sorry!"

"Then I amsorry!" The words were out in a yell he wasn't sure he was reallyresponsible for. "I'm sorry I'm so confused about how I feel about you!"

Draco froze. His grey eyes dilated so much that they were nearly as black asthe night sky. As Harry watched, numb over what he'd just heard himselfsay, Draco's lips parted very slowly, an unconscious slackening of his jaw. He

looked like a statue there on the rotting bench, given away only by thegooseflesh climbing rapidly up his throat.

He swallowed; Harry heard the sound of it like a hammer's blow in his ownshocked ears. Merlin, was he just going to say everythingon his mindtonight? Surely he hadn't just said

"You do want me." It was a statement, hushed into a near murmur. Dracoblinked furiously. His mouth opened again, but he didn't speak, andeventually pursed his lips together.

A nod would seal it, a word. Harry hung between the two options, halfshattered to find that they were his only choices, half excited. Gods, he'dheld that in for months. But this wasn't how he'd wanted to reveal it, notsome blurted desire for Draco's body before he himself had even figured out

just how deep that desire went! Or if it even truly existed but it did, onsome level, or he wouldn't be getting so worked up about who Draco dated,he was sure of that.

In the end, a bob of his chin was all it took, just a jerk of reaction. But Harryknew he was agreeing, and he could see in the colour of Draco's face that

his interpretation was the same.

"You could have just said so," Draco finally croaked. It was absolutelyanticlimactic and Harry spit out a "what?" before he could process. Dracostared at him, looking so damned nave, so shaken, that Harry couldn't keep


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still.

"What?"he said again. "What the Just walk up and tell you I'm attracted toyou?"

A frown began to form on Draco's face. He drew back as if pulling away fromthe abrasion in Harry's tone. "Yes," he said.

"You are out of your mind!" Harry cried, cringing inwardly as Draco visiblywinced. "How on earth was I supposed to do that? To my friend, my co-worker? You act like it's nothing but a bloody Summoning spell!"

"Harry," Draco grated out between his teeth, "you knew. You bloody wellknewwho I really liked."

Harry began to shake his head, back and forth while the words jumbled up."I did not know. You never said anything, did you?"

Draco's jaw tightened even more. "You are the most oblivious person I've

ever met, Potter. If you'd given it half the attention that you give to your job,it would have smacked you in the face!"

"Oh, so dating all those men was your way of showing me how you felt?Excellent plan, Draco, I think I got it."

"Harry." It was a sigh of utter loss. "You My god, I tried. I did. And everytime, you just went the other way."

"Well, you pushed too hard, then."

"There's nothing to push, Harry." Draco's voice was unsettlingly bland. "Ifyou like men" He let the sentence drift; as the silence poured in, he raisedhis eyes to meet Harry's, and Harry's throat promptly closed.

"I've only ever had girlfriends, Draco!" he cried. He forced his fingersthrough his hair roughly enough to hurt his scalp. "Merlin. It's not such aneasy transition, all right?"

Draco gave a snort. "Either you know you are, or you know you aren't. It'sthat simple."

"That's not how it is." Harry shook his head. Maybe for Draco it was, maybeDraco had always been certain of himself either way. Harry knew for a factthat Draco had dated girls a few times. And then he'd switched to men, andas far as Harry was aware, he'd never gone back. Draco's approach was allor nothing nowadays, Harry thought bitterly. But it had been that way whenthey were younger, too, just about different things.

Harry was not like Draco. His own "all or nothing" was full of indecisivestaggering this way and that, little uncertainties that often weren't enoughto stop him, but sometimes sometimes they piled up. Sometimes theyimmobilised him. Founders, if he'd allowed them to do that during the war

"That's not how it is for me, Draco," Harry finished stubbornly. Draco'sexpression was disbelieving. But there was also a measure of resentmentthere, too. It could almost have been contempt, only Harry knew Draco did


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not find him contemptible anymore.

Did he?

Whatever the case, Draco was not done with his side of the argument.Before Harry could react, the other man was facing him on the bench, veryclose to Harry, and speaking in a torrent, his forefinger stabbing betweenthem.

"Look, Harry," Draco snapped, "I amsure. I've been sure for ages. I waspretty sure about you for a long while, and then you started pulling yourpunches, and I've got no fucking clue what it is that you want anymore. Youact like there might be something, but as soon as I approach, you back up!

You've confused the hell out of me, and I'm through with it. I'm not waitingaround to see what happens. I want to live, Harry. Live and love, find theperson who makes me happy. You don't. All right? You don't do thatanymore."

With that, Draco slumped away from Harry and went very still, as if he'd notspoken at all. Harry could still hear the ringing of the words. He wasn't sureif he was more angry or astonished, or irritated.

It wasn't Merlin, he couldn't explainit. It was a great big clutter ofthoughts and emotions, turning in a continuous circle. Certainty wasn't theissue, not really. The issue was that the things he was certain about keptchanging. It wasn't enough to be absolutely certain that he wanted to seeDraco naked one night, if the next day he was just as certain that he'd notbeen thinking clearly. Then another day or two would pass and he'd findhimself thinking of Draco when he was in the shower or lying in bed with his

hand between his legs, and he was so curious he could explode, but thatwasn't a good enough reason to do it, to propose it. Hell, if he put it that wayto Draco, strictly curiosity, Draco might even agree to it. Or Harry hadthought he might.

He was beginning to think he'd been a total fool now, though, on the vergeof making a very serious mistake.

One thing he was sure about was that he sincerely enjoyed the idea ofmaking Draco happy. The statement that he was now doing the opposite

was crushing.

"What would make you happy, Draco?" he asked softly. Draco glanced athim, and then a weird smile lit his face. He shook his head.

"Oh, no, Harry. You are not backing us into that corner."

Harry wanted to ask what corner Draco was talking about. But he had afeeling Draco might understand at least part of his problem better than he'dthought. Draco was not one to appreciate pity, or anything that ultimatelyresembled that emotion. And being used to alleviate a curiosity was right up

there with pity. So that left one question: Was he using Draco, or was theremore to this confused bundle of feelings?

Harry wished he already had all the answers sorted out in his head. Allthose times spent ignoring it, revelling in the brief excitement of feeling


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such things for someone he knew so well, and then pushing it off of himbefore it could really begin to nag

"I don't know what I want," he muttered at last. Draco looked slowly round athim, Harry could feel it. But he wasn't going to be able to speak if he wasfacing Draco, so he kept his eyes ahead and took a deep breath. "I know Ifeel differently about you than the rest of my friends. I don't know what allthat involves yet. But I'd"

He coughed; his throat had gone a little dry. Draco's fingers tapped againstthe bench.

"What?" Draco pressed, relentless.

Wasn't he going too far already? Harry sighed. The change he'd been tryingto avoid was already there, warping their relationship. "All I'm saying is Iwouldn't be averse to giving it a try."

What in all hells was he doing? He felt like he'd cut every stable cord free

except one, and now he was swinging in the wind. Draco straightened just abit.

"What?" he said again. Harry's irritation flared.

"I don't want to make you unhappy," he said sharply. "I don't Come on,Draco, are you trying to make this hard?"

"I don't know."

Harry hadn't expected a response at all. "You"

"You've certainly made it hard on me," Draco murmured.

He wasn't looking for a fight. Harry knew what Draco sounded like when hewas itching to argue, to dominate a discussion until it spiralled into insultsand injured feelings. This sounded more along the lines of tired andconfused, and just sick of it all. For the first time, Harry wondered if Dracowas sick of himself, too.

"I didn't mean to," Harry answered. He looked at his partner. "I didn't."

Draco nodded, and after a moment, his gaze fell away.

"I don't think I can promise you anything," Harry went on, needing Draco tolook at him again. "I just I'm confused. But I'll try."

"You'll try anything once," Draco said.

"And I think that's a strength," Harry answered firmly. Draco's eyes lockedon his again, and this time they held. They stared at each other for a longtime, and it was the bright white glow against Draco's cheeks that finally

drew Harry's attention away from the other man's face.

He got up. Draco was still watching him, and now his mouth turned downcuriously. Harry crossed the small floor space, tugging his coat tightlyaround him, and shoved the flimsy door open against the snow. The moon's


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unhampered light turned the clearing and surrounding trees starry white,day-bright and glittering. Specks of crystal-gleam shone individually asHarry looked around at the undisturbed snow and then up at the sky. Thecolour was icy black, stuck through with shining stars; the nearest cloudwas a good distance away.

"Sky's clear," he said, and turned, only to find that Draco was already behindhim, looking over his shoulder at the shimmering field beyond the door.

Harry's breath caught, they were so close. Draco stared up at him for amoment and then looked away. His shoulders lifted and dropped.

"Lead us out," he said.

Harry was slow to react. He buttoned his coat tightly up to his neck,straightened his gloves, and stepped out onto the snow with a resoundingcrunch. He heard Draco crunch out behind him as he put distance betweenhimself and the shed, and looked back once before moving out, in thedirection away from the estate proper.

The walk was slow and careful, but steady. Harry's boots bit deeply intoeach drift, but the snow was powdery, easy to push now that he could see.Draco came along behind him through the drifts, and when Harry glancedback, it was to find his partner with both hands deep in the pockets of hiswool coat, gazing down at the white track he was navigating. His wetclothing was slung over one shoulder. He didn't make any verbal sound.They just trudged on, and the snow shuffed up in piles around their shins.

Harry felt it when they cleared the barrier, as if a cloying, overpoweringscent had been cleaned away. He shook himself. Draco's eyes gleamed

across the few yards between them, silently watching. Then one handwithdrew from a pocket, pulling his wand with it. Draco dried himself andhis sweaters off with a murmured spell, and then cast a general warmingcharm. Harry did the same. Not for the first time, he felt the distinct shiverof Draco's magic as opposed to his own. He wasn't sure when he'd firstnoticed the difference. Perhaps he was imagining it, but he didn't think so.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked.

Draco's eyes crept up to meet his. His expression twisted and he shrugged.

"I don't know what you're thinking," he answered softly.

No immediate response occurred to Harry. He stood there listening tohimself breathe, watching Draco's shoulders twitch uncomfortably under hiscoat.

"It's Christmas Eve," Harry finally said. "I" He looked up and found themoon bright, the sky ghostly with cloud remnants, and the starlight crispand cold. When he looked at Draco again, he knew he was witnessing thetension before some wild movement. Physical or mental, one direction or theother When the tension did snap, the motion would be final.

"I don't have anyone visiting," Harry said. "If you want If you don't want tospend Christmas alone"

Draco looked at him. High cheekbones and forehead were ridged in


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moonlight, the rest of his face smooth with shadows. Harry heard his ownincredible presumption in that instant, but he couldn't erase what he'd said.Draco was silent for so long that Harry's throat began to ache.

"All right."

Draco didn't say anything more than that, and Harry stared at him mutelyfor several seconds too long, until Draco's eyes flicked quickly away and the

twitch of his shoulders became an outright shrug of dismissal. Harry joltedinto movement instead, reaching out, not touching his partner's arm, butgaining his attention anyway.

"We can side-along. You won't have to deal with the wards that way."

Draco nodded slowly. He fell into step beside Harry as they found their wayinto the shadow of a group of closely growing trees, just in case therehappened to be anyone else out there, walking in the snow. Once in thedarkness, they stopped, and the chill bit into Harry's body all over again.Draco's thin shoulders hunched up under his coat, and he turned his bodytoward Harry, but his head didn't quite follow. The lingering awkwardnessfelt very invasive, and Harry wouldn't have raised his arm if Draco had notlifted his. Just a small extension, a loosening of that tight frame enough forHarry to slip his arm around the small of Draco's back and pull themtogether. Layers of clothing made the contact strange. Harry raised hiswand, pictured his flat, and Apparated quickly.

The still warmth of his flat was almost stifling, it was so sudden. Harryblinked into the dim sitting room where they'd appeared. His little Christmastree glowed gently in the corner, white and gold lighting the walls. He felt

Draco's arm tense very slightly against his hip, and he stepped back,releasing the other man. He worried about what sort of response that mightreceive from his partner, but Draco still wasn't exactly looking at him.

Draco backed away a couple of steps, returning his hands to his pockets,and looked around. Harry cleared his throat.

"Here we are," he said unnecessarily. But Draco nodded and finally looked athim.

"Yeah."

Harry cursed himself for being nervous. Draco had been in his flat loads oftimes. He knew where just about everything was, knew where to find thestash of Honeydukes fudge Harry kept for when he came over, even knewhow to smack Harry's microwave into submission when it made thatirritating rumbling sound. But now it was different; now Draco was seeingthe place with new eyes. Hell, Harry was seeing the place with new eyes,because he'd just brought a man back to his flat, a man that he hadintentions of being intimate with at some point, the same man he'd indulgedin mild fantasies about in the bedroom that sat directly over their heads.

And here, a single stretch of his hand away, the idea of touching Draco, ofkissing him on the mouth, punched Harry low in the gut yet again and lefthim short of breath. In an instant, the idea seemed like a terrible one fromacross the bright and sober expanse of his thoughts. He almost physicallyrecoiled, so strong was the reaction. Kissing Draco like that, kissing his


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friend, his colleague dear gods, it didn't feel right, and surely it would ruinit, ruin them.

Hold it, his mind whispered, wait and it will pass. Harry bit his lip and drewa deep breath. As it had many times before, the dread seeped away, leavingwarmth and jangled nerves behind. Harry blinked and turned to find Dracowatching him out of the corner of one eye.

"You all right?" Draco asked doubtfully.

This time Harry spoke immediately: his thoughts tumbled from him in a lowstream of words. "I want to keep our friendship and I'm not sure if we will."

Draco's gaze tracked around like he was seeking something. "Harry, do youwant me that way?"

Funny how he'd never been sure about that before, but now he was, in agripping sense that made him feel like he was falling sideways. He did wantDraco. But there was more to it than bodies. He didn't want to confuse this.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

Draco swallowed. Harry saw it, a shift of shadow over his throat. Draco'sgaze skittered a little wildly. "Because I'm not sure if you do. Like I said, Idon't Can't read you."

Can't read you anymorewas the implication, and Harry knew it. He'd neverfelt the barrier between them so strongly until now, but it had been therefor weeks, a few months, all told. The man he used to read so easily had

been closed off, and Harry knew that it had been just as much his doing asDraco's, probably more.

"Still sorting things out," Harry answered after a lengthy pause.

"It makes you nervous." There was a tick in Draco's voice, something fallingslowly into place, falling over something else on its way to shutting it outcompletely.

Harry's blood heated. "Of course it does!" he cried, and Draco blinked insurprise. "How could it not? For Merlin's sake, Draco"

"I'm your friend," Draco interrupted hurriedly. "First, foremost. After. IHarry?"

"This is why friends don't get together," Harry snapped, and Draco's eyesnarrowed.

"And this is why friends can't just let each other be!" He swept a hand out,and Harry wasn't sure what he was gesturing at, but the point was madeanyway. "I have someone, Harry! I You couldn't just let me have him,though, and now we're stuck in this fucking limbo!"

"He is not your boyfriend!" Harry hissed. He saw the heat rise in Draco's facebut didn't let him speak. He strode right up to Draco and jabbed a finger athim. "He is notyour boyfriend, Draco. He's a date, a couple of dates andthat's all!"


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"Well, how exactly do you think people get boyfriends, Harry?" Dracosnapped back. "Through dates. First one, then another, then a few more,and then it finally starts clicking together or it doesn't! But that's how itworks, that's how it's going to work for me, and if you can't let that happen,then maybe it's better if we aren't friends first and foremost!"

"Not him," Harry growled. Draco glowered at him, his face a red flush. "You

are not giving this you aren't giving us up over him!"

"You don't get a say in it anymore, Potter!" Draco shouted. He flung hishands up. "You know what, you never had a say, do you know that? I gave

you a say, and that was my choice, but you do not get to dictate my life! Ihave tried with you, Harry! I have. And every time, it's a battle that wears meout and leaves me sick, and"

"What about all those times you pulled back, Draco?" Harry seethed. "Lookat me, you are giving just as many mixed signals as I am!"

"What, you push and I stumble, is that it?" The ring in his tone shocked theargument out of Harry's mind. Draco went on, his eyes dark and fixed. "Youpush, I lose my balance, and by the time I get back up and reach out, you'vebacked so far away that I can't even tell where you are. You bloody wellmake up your mind, because I'm about to do it for both of us!"

"It's not that simple, Draco! Merlin, you act like it's this easy switch, but Idon't even know if it would be the right or the wrong thing to do. Half thetime I feel one way, and the rest of the time I feel the other, but there's nomiddle ground! I don't want it to be wrong, to feelwrong, and then to have

risked it all on something that shouldn't exist anyway!"

"Well, why don't you bloody well find out if it feels wrong?" Draco's handshad clenched into white fists that shook, just as his entire body was shaking.He glowered at Harry, lips tightening, parting to allow the quick breathsthat were assaulting his frame. "Just figure it out!"

And if we can't connect afterward? Are you really that willing to throw it allinto one cauldron like that?He wanted to say it, wanted to yell it intoDraco's face, because Draco was talking about acting like none of thetension existed, not the sexual tension, but the tension of a breakingfriendship, the discomfort that was slowly becoming their reality. What inthe world was Draco planning to do if it all fell apart?

What was he, Harry, planning to do?

He wantedto kiss Draco. Right there, right then. Wanted to act like theyreally did have nothing to lose, and not like he might be using his friend,taking advantage of an obvious attraction. But here was Draco, pulling awayand heading readily into the arms of another man, and Harry did not wantthat. Gods, he'd never felt so impotent as when he knew Draco was out with

another man. Whatever they were really doing, his imagination made it somuch bigger, so much worse, until it might not have mattered what Dracosaid after.

For just an instant, the desire to kiss Draco, to lay claim to him, was more


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powerful than everything else. Harry shut his eyes and ground his teethtogether. Waited for it to fade. It did, but the queer feeling it left was hollowand jittery, and at the end of its rope.

He opened his eyes and looked at Draco. "Okay."

Draco swallowed again. "Okay?" His shoulders were tense, his hands nowhanging limply at his sides. He stared at Harry, and Harry's stomach

churned once more. "Harry," Draco said, and then stopped.

Harry stepped closer, his shoes almost on top of Draco's. The other manlooked like he'd been caught in a trap, not moving but shivering like hedesperately wanted to move. Harry reached out and slid his fingers aroundone of Draco's wrists. He could feel the pulse jumping beneath hisfingertips. He raised Draco's hand, pulling him just a little closer. "Okay,"and this time, his voice shook and Draco's eyes widened.

Harry bent his head, hesitantly, halting when he felt a quick exhalationagainst his lips. Draco's eyes skipped over his face, a panicked movement.He leaned forward and stopped as well. Harry could hear them bothbreathing. He could feel his thoughts catching up to them. Before they couldreach him and make him reconsider, Harry tipped his chin up and metDraco's mouth with his own.

It was more of a gasp than a kiss. Draco's hiss was immediate, and thenthere was no sound except the thud of Harry's heartbeat in his ears. Draco'slips were a little chapped. They moved against his tentatively, slightlyparted. Harry waited for some sort of inner signal, but nothing came: just agentle, clumsy brushing of mouths in his sitting room. He felt his own

fingers tighten around Draco's wrist, felt Draco's hand come up to cup hisother elbow. Harry's head was strangely silent; no bursts of static or thrumsof dizziness. It There was

Harry pulled away. His mouth felt cold, the skin of Draco's arm hot under hisfingers. Everything was stark, too much. He shook his head, thedisappointment creeping inexorably over him.

"Oh, no, that is notmy only chance," Draco breathed. His fingers claspedHarry's nape more firmly, and then he was angling his head and pulling

Harry in, and they were kissing again, and this time it was heavy and franticand deep.

Harry's mind went quiet for several seconds, a void of nothingness. Nothinghe could make sense of. His body remembered to breathe and he gaspedagainst Draco's lips. Draco gave them both enough time to inhale, and thenbrought them together again, lips moving over each other's, tongue tipsmeeting in continuous touches. Harry's hand clenched around Draco's wrist,the other around Draco's upper arm, and he pressed back into the kiss,forcing more, not really thinking but just wanting to see where he could takeit, where Draco was willing to go now that the roller coaster had begun its

inevitable descent.

Draco's willingness was evident instantly. His mouth was a pliant, partedhaven for Harry's, drawing him much further into the kiss than he'danticipated. Something in Harry's gut whirled over and upside down, and it


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was not unpleasant. Draco's shudder was contagious; Harry's whole bodytrembled as he kissed Draco, as if every muscle were jumping on its own. IfDraco were still, Harry might have been able to make sense of it. But Dracowas moving too, his hands curling to cup Harry's face, to slide into his hair,to flicker down Harry's throat as if simple touch was not enough. Hisreaction was too quick to ponder. Draco's hands slipped down his chest andfinally slid inside his coat where they came to rest, arms clasped aroundHarry's torso, fingers clutching the back of his sweater in little spasmodic

shivers.

This felt right, so much more so than he'd imagined. Their fit was obvious;Harry searched and could no longer locate his nervousness, just a sense ofcalm, a taste he liked and a mouth that kissed him very well. A fleetingthought licked at his mind, that Draco was awfully urgent about this. Itmeant more to Draco than it did to him, the feeling behind it went deeper. Itwas enough to make him pull back.

But then he didn't know what to say.

"What about your date?" Harry managed. He could hear their quick breaths,a tandem of give and take between them. "What do you want to do?"

Draco's eyes were clear and fixed on his own. Harry saw his throat ripple. "Iwant to tell him I'm taken," Draco whispered.

It was so clear, the depths of Draco's investment in this kiss. It ought to havescared Harry, and maybe it did, a little. He didn't know if he returned such aflood of emotion, if there was any giving where there was so much beingreceived. He'd never seen his friend's face so open never known him like

this. It was evocative, that knowledge, and addictive.

Draco took Harry's nape in one hand, affirming his grip and touching theirmouths lightly together again. It should have ended there, but it didn't: thesmall kisses lingered, turned into longer, deeper kisses. Tongues and teethin imperfect tandem. Harry snugged his arm around Draco, wanting to bringhim closer, to feel the new angle of their mouths, and it was there, sharpand seductive, the curve of Draco's lips, all the better for the heatedmovement of Draco's body pressed to his. He didn't think he'd been kissedlike this in his life. Draco's hand rose to his chest and slid upward, climbing

to his shoulder and slipping back down again. The material against Harry'sthumb rode up, Draco shifted his weight, and there was the low curve ofDraco's bare side. Harry gripped it with his hand, raising Draco's jumpersome more, and there was new desperation in the kiss, flooding into hismouth in a soft, tortured moan.

Something marred the flow of Draco's hip, a slickness of skin that madeHarry pause. He pressed fingertips there, then followed it up. It took only aninch or two before he knew what he was feeling. The line rose diagonallyand unevenly across Draco's abdomen, curving up over his chest into a widestripe under Harry's fingers. It narrowed at his shoulder, and Harry let hishand slide back to the middle of Draco's chest.

He broke the kiss.

"You can't feel this," he whispered sadly. The over-smooth skin under his


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fingers felt waxy and warm, the scar of deep injury that had exacted itsprice. He looked up without meaning to and found Draco's eyes on him,large and searching.

"Pressure," Draco whispered back. He pressed his fingers over Harry's, overthe fabric of his jumper. "That's all."

Harry shut his eyes, overcome by what he'd done all over again, by the

permanence of that blemish on Draco's body. Severed nerves. Life-changing.He felt Draco lean forward only an instant before a warm mouth pressed tohis, and Harry's lips parted helplessly.

He found the couch more by memory than by sight, and dropped onto it,shaking, pulling Draco with him. They sagged together, full-bodied and offbalance. Draco wrapped a hand in Harry's hair, cradling his head with hiswrist, leaning fully into him. Harry pushed back, twisting his fingers inDraco's jumper and tugging him in. The reality of their embrace was a clear,iridescent vision in his head, he and Draco wrapped in a kiss he couldn't get

enough of. There wasn't enough in a simple kiss, and not in a complicatedone. Kisses only went so far.

Harry found Draco's waist and pulled him even closer.

He'd never touched a man before, but that did not present aninsurmountable problem. He'd touched women before. He'd touched himself.Draco was reacting to his kiss alone, returning an assault on Harry's mouththat he'd never experienced before, but he knew Draco. He knew hispersonality, and he knew his temperament. Harry pushed Draco's jumperhem up and found the top of his trousers, hooked his fingers there, and

kissed Draco back. Draco's stomach was very hot, heaving with each breath,and as his fingers dipped beneath his beltline, Draco let out a muffled moan,pulling free of the kiss. Almost a word. His head gave a tiny, unsteady bob.

But Harry could see, beyond the worried warning, that Draco couldfeel this.No scar tissue there, just tender, living skin and pulsing blood and firingnerves. His face was alight with feeling, pinked and slack, his eyes fevered.Harry wanted, needed to see that Draco was feeling him and what he wasdoing. The little voice inside him spoke up, a tiny wonderment, too soon?Atiny fear. But the larger fear had departed; for once, Harry was sure of

something, that he wanted to be here, doing this to this person, with thisperson, and it was okay.

Harry moved his fingers further down. Draco gave a sudden arch, asimultaneous grunt, pushing his groin into Harry's with his hand trappedbetween them.

It was distressing when he lost the kiss, and then when he found it again,desperate and different, giving way to the rest Harry loved it. Draco kisseddifferently when someone's hand was on him, inside his trousers andstroking, kneading, encircling. Draco's hips gave tiny, helpless bucks

against Harry; Draco wasn't in control of himself, and the realisation madeHarry's breath catch. He hitched his free hand under Draco's thigh andurged him nearer, closer, until he felt the squeeze of Draco's inner legaround his hip, the chafing rub of jeans together. Draco felt so warm in hishand, the rest of his body trembling, his mouth touching again and again to


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Harry's face and lips. Harry saw Draco' teeth clamp down on his lower lip,felt his hips give a long, sinuous rub against him, felt Draco pulse in his grip and then the shudder of relaxation, the first exhausted aftermath. Harryfelt unbearably hot, as if his sweat just would not break. He hung right onthe verge, itching for the end, the riddling of unsatisfied lust climbingthrough him. Draco's hand clenched tightly at his thigh, and it sent himover, made him hiss as he came, long waves of orgasm sliding over him.Never quite like this.

When Harry got his thoughts back, the two of them were tangled together,one of his legs over Draco's, one of Draco's over his. Their chests came intocontact over and over as they breathed. Harry found himself wonderingdazedly about his couch, thinking he should clean them both up somehow,but not able to determine how. He felt washed out, pulled free of himselfand waiting to be pieced together again.

If he thought about it Harry inhaled and pushed his thoughts down, afraidof what immediate changes thought might force on them. Draco's taste

remained on his lips, faint and savory with salt. He realised that Draco's coatwas brushing the top of his hand, the hand on Draco's leg. Draco still worehis coat. He, Harry, hadn't even made it out of his own jacket, and here theywere, wrapped around each other on his couch.

He wanted that warmth again, because he knew it was still there. He slippedhis hand from Draco's jeans slowly, drawing the concentration for asimplistic cleaning spell. It worked better than he'd hoped. He doubtedDraco even heard him. The heat of his partially bared stomach wascomforting; Harry's hands rose under Draco's jumper and came to rest onsoft, hot skin, skin that felt so fragile over the curve of ribs and the audibleheave of breath. Draco's body gave a weak shiver, and Harry looked down.He was momentarily startled by the familiar red of the jumper he'd put onthat afternoon, his own jumper, large and loose over Draco's thinner frame.

Harry loved how it looked on him.

He splayed his fingers about Draco's sides, sliding further up and drawingDraco to him bodily. He felt the hitch of Draco's sigh just before he kissedhim, urging their mouths together, tonguing Draco's lips gently open andslipping inside, folding himself into Draco's taste and warmth.

* * *

He woke on his own couch, and this time, his head was clear. Harry drew along breath without opening his eyes, and sank back into the unbrokenwarmth that surrounded him. He was sitting up; he could feel the lazy curveof the couch supporting his neck, and his feet were settled comfortably onthe sitting room rug. The darkness beyond his eyelids indicated an hour stillearly. Harry finally let his eyes drift open, and saw the gently lit room,everything still, comfortably warm and lit by the Christmas tree and thatunearthly light of early dawn. The soft inhale and exhale of sleep drew hisattention, and Harry looked downward.

Draco rested against his side, his head angled on Harry's chest, one armslung low around his waist. The warmth emanated endlessly from Draco'sbody, and his eyes were closed. Harry found himself unwilling to move his


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own arm, wrapped as it was around Draco's side.

Their coats were still on, though their shoes were not. Harry wiggled histoes, stretching one leg until he could watch the movement. Such silence; hewas the only one witnessing the motion of his foot. The knowledge that noone else knew was nicely conspiratorial.

He wondered if everything just hadn't hit him yet.

Harry forced himself to consider his real thoughts. Draco was asleep,literally in his arms, almost exactly where they'd been when they drifted off.Harry's eyes dropped unintentionally, but not unexpectedly, to the cup ofshadow between Draco's thighs. His jeans were still open, the bottom-mostbutton closed, but the rest parted, baring a small sliver of his briefs. Darklycoloured; Harry gazed down, his mind emptied of everything but his ownheartbeat.

He lifted a hand and rubbed his face, and then looked at his fingers. Thathand had been down his friend's trousers, wrapped around him, bringinghim off just as Harry had brought himself off often enough. And the memorywas so much more vivid to him, a series of sharp colours and breathysounds. He could recall the exact tremble of Draco's body when he'd firsttouched him, and the entirely different shiver just as he was drawing nearthe end.

Something in him recoiled. Harry recognised it, the fear of having thrown hisentire hand down at once, all his money before him on the table. Heswallowed, waiting for the residual nerves to fade away. It was just memory-fear, what he had become used to feeling around Draco. Of course he would

feel it now, when he'd changed so much about them.

It was the tiny voice that stopped him again: When we have changed somuch about us. Harry pulse slowed. Whatever this was, whatever they'ddone a short time ago, they were in it together.

It was a little too disorienting to ponder just how deep Draco's feelingswent. Harry gave it an effort and then found himself grimacing, and pushedit away for later on, perhaps when they'd had a chance to sort things out

verbally. Merlin, he wasn't sure how to have that conversation. He was just

sure that he already meant an awful lot to Draco, more than he'd expected.

Draco's steady breathing made way for a deep sigh, in and then out throughhis nose. Harry found himself holding his own breath as he watched hisfriend stir, afraid of what expression Draco's face might fall into when hecame to and realised where he was. Who he was with, and what they'd donetogether. Harry had never had sex with a former friend before, unless onecounted Ginny, but the truth was that he hadn't really got to know her untilthey were actually dating. He already knew Draco, knew him well enough tohave predictions about how he'd react. This time, though, he found himselfuncertain, wish-washing back and forth and simply not knowing what would

happen to them when Draco opened his eyes.

He did, all too soon.

The surface recognition was immediate. Harry witnessed what followed less


21/22

than a second later, the deeper recognition, the knowledge of a changedrelationship, physicality that hadn't been there before and hands, mouths,thoughts having gone places they previously hadn't. He looked at Draco'sdilated pupils, so black the grey was a mere ring, and wondered if Dracoregretted giving in to something he'd fought against for so long. A stab ofanxiety lanced through Harry, and for a moment he feared he'd gone too far,that he'd ended up using Draco instead of deepening what they had.

His mind's near-instantaneous rebellion was what saved him. Harry forcedhis muscles to relax, watching Draco watch him., and recognising anger athimself. That was not what he'd done. There was curiosity, yes, he remindedhimself, but there was more than that in what they'd done. There was need,and there was nervousness, and there was tenderness. And they weren'tmutually exclusive things.

"Hi," Draco whispered composedly. His eyes flicked back and forth overHarry's face. Harry could feel the heat radiating between their bodies.Draco's tongue slipped out to moisten his lips. "What time is it?"

Harry cleared his throat, peering at the clock on his wall. "Just after five."

Draco's gaze went to the windows. "It's dark."

Harry nodded. Draco returned to looking at him. Neither of them had moved,and Harry became very conscious of that fact. He reached down withoutthinking and fingered the buttons of Draco's trousers, slipping another oneinto its hole. Draco jumped a little; his hand dropped to cover Harry's, andHarry eased away, allowing Draco to take up the task. It was as Draco did uphis fly, fingertips twitching a little too much for the simple motion, that

Harry had his epiphany.

He could make this hard, or he could make it normal. He could see Draco'svulnerability there in the state of his clothes, a vulnerability that the manwas rapidly covering up, and knew that it was in his hands just as much as itwas in Draco's: this would be the awkward morning after or it wouldn't be.It was a possible beginning that could easily become an early ending. Itdepended on what he did next.

He waited until Draco was finished, and was surprised to feel the other man

pull away, straightening there on the couch and tugging his coat closeraround himself. Harry felt inordinately cold, and before he knew it, he wasfollowing the angle of Draco's body, sitting up with him until their sidestouched again. Draco looked at him without speaking.

Harry smiled. "You hungry?"

"I" Draco closed his mouth and drew a little bit back, tracking Harry's facewith his eyes. "Famished," he said at last.

"Good." Harry felt his face flushing again, just a bit, but didn't look away. "I

know a Muggle place that'll be open, even today. Danish. Croissants and thelike."

Draco nodded. Harry stood, reaching a hand down, and saw his friend drawhimself together. Draco's expression didn't change, but something


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intangible was dropping from him. He reached up slowly and took Harry'shand. The first touch of their fingers brought another word to Harry'sthoughts, the word 'lover,' in place of 'friend.' Harry suppressed a weakshiver. It would take getting used to. He hoped those two words were notmutually exclusive either. He pulled Draco up from the couch, expecting tolet go, and was pleasantly gratified to find that Draco only fixed their gripmore firmly, angled until their fingers entwined and their palms pressedtogether. This time, Harry knew his flush was visible. He looked down at

their hands, remembering the feel of Draco in his palm, so different from thecool fingers he now held. Draco's hand tightened slightly, and Harry lookedup, meeting his gaze.

He squeezed back.

~fin~

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