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Fresh Beginnings

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Draco stopped, stunned for a moment as Harry’s words sank in. A thousand thoughts raced through his head; how much had Harry drank? Did he realise what he was saying? Was this some sort of trick? All these years Draco had been waiting to hear Harry reciprocate the feelings that had been bubbling away under the surface, and now he had, he wasn’t sure he could trust the words coming from the brunettes mouth. “Okay Harry, I think it’s time we get you to bed. If you remember any of this, we can talk about it tomorrow.’ Draco resolved that this wasn’t something that they should be talking about after the evening they’d had. If they were going to discuss feelings, or whatever, then he wanted it to be at a time they could both be sure of what they were saying.

Helping Harry to his feet, he walked through to the bedroom located at the far end of the upstairs corridor. “Stay?” Harry mumbled, his tone helpful despite his words getting muffled by Draco’s shoulder as he turned his head into the blonde.

“I’ll be next door. See you in the morning Harry.” Draco couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips as he pulled the duvet up over Harry, who had stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt. “Sleep.” he whispered, leaning in and placing a chaste kiss onto his forehead, before turning and leaving the room in order to head to bed himself.

“MmmKay” he heard come from behind him as he closed the door, making him chuckle and shake his head as he entered the master bedroom, next to the one Harry always seemed to claim - at this point, it had all but officially been named as Harry’s room. For how often he stayed here, it was littered - in an organised manner of course - with belongings he had collected here; toiletries, spare pyjamas, a few items of clothing. It was his unofficial home from home, and everyone else knew there was an unspoken rule, that on the occasion they stayed over, they were to use one of the other rooms. More than once, one of their friends questioned why they hadn’t just moved in together already, either here at the manor, or at Grimmauld Place.. and honestly, neither of them had an answer.

Draco lay there awake for hours, waiting for sleep to consume him, but instead Harry’s words and the sincerity in his eyes just kept playing through his head. Draco had always been able to read exactly what Harry was thinking or feeling, just by looking at his eyes - many say eyes are the portal to the soul, and whilst Draco had never really put much stock into that when he was a child, the moment he met Harry he knew what they meant. The brunette thought he was good at hiding his feelings, but Draco was sure that sometimes he knew what Harry was feeling, before Harry did. He couldn’t deny that they had shared looks over the years, that would convince even the most unbelieving of person that what they each felt was mutual, but it was as if both were too scared to make the first move. The fire that had spurred on their many fights at school, masking a deeper burning passion. They had always been drawn together, it was just that neither understood why, and then when they did, they were scared to acknowledge it.

After so long, they had tentatively built a friendship from the ruins of their crumbling ‘hatred’. That had blossomed quicker than either of them honestly expected, despite the hurdles they faced - especially in the form of Ron’s disbelief that Harry could do such a thing. Could it really be about to transform and grow again though? Draco rubbed his jaw at the memory of the punch Ron had thrown his way, the first time he had walked into the bar with Harry. He hated to think what the red head would do if they did become something more; he barely tolerated their friendship as is.

Eventually he managed to doze off to sleep, sometime in the early hours of the morning. Images of Harry smiling up at him floating through his head as he drifted off.

The following morning, Draco awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, and knew that probably meant Harry was at least starting to make breakfast downstairs. Climbing out of bed he grabbed a spare t-shirt from the drawer, and threw it on with his pyjama bottoms, bare feet padding their way across the dark wooden floor, and down the stairs into the kitchen. “Morning.. ah thank you.” Draco smiled as the raven haired boy turned instinctively to hand him a steaming mug of rich coffee.

“Morning, porridge?” Harry asked, already reaching for the bag of oats he knew Draco would want.

“Please. How’re you feeling this morning?” Draco asked, leaning back into the comfy armchair beyond the breakfast bar, trying to observe Harry for any signs of either a hangover, or injury following his encounter with Hactor the night before.

“Okay. I took a healing potion for my nose this morning - by the way, you’ll need to make some more of that soon, you’re down to three vials, but other than that I’m fine. You?” Harry asked, handing Draco the sweet, steaming bowl of porridge, before taking a bite of his toast.

“Yes, I’m fine. Do.. Do you remember anything about last night?” he asked tentatively, keeping his eyes on the creamy oats, nervous about what he would see if he looked up at Harry.

“I do, and I meant it. You deserve a man who will treat you right Draco. Who will love you for all your quirks, and never want to hurt you. A man who knows how you like your coffee and porridge, how you love wearing comfortable clothes when theres no one else around, no matter how much you deny it. A man who has seen you at your worst, as well as your best, and still thinks you’re the most perfect person to have ever existed - who has shared your past, who has grown with you and seen you go from that git of boy, to one of the most respectable and genuine men around. I don’t know about you Malfoy, but I only know one person who fits every single one of those criteria.” Harry replied, a Draco-esque smirk on his face.

Closing his eyes Draco drew in a breath, letting Harry’s words wash over him. Opening them, he looked up at him, taking a moment before he replied. Leaning forward he stood, walking over to where Harry was leaning against the breakfast bar. Reaching around him, he placed the bowl on the side, before reaching up to place a hand on the others cheek. As the other hand snaked around to sit on Harry hip, he stepped closer still, each of their breath tickling the others face. “Scared, Potter?” Draco whispered, moving his face to within millimetres of Harry’s, his lips teasingly close.

“You wish.” Harry mirrored the words from many years ago, closing the distance and bringing their lips together. At last, they were together as one, 11 years after that fateful rejection. They may have taken their time, but at last, they were united. He knew that many would have things to say, that they would have battles to face, but they would face it together, and that was good enough for him. The longing he had felt in his chest all these years was lifting, and as Harry’s arms tightened around him, Draco knew he was home.