“You always were such a drama queen.”
“What?” Draco whipped his head around to see who this remark came from. Of course, he saw no one other than “Potter.”
“You heard me. And it’s Harry. We aren’t 16 anymore.” The man had the audacity to smirk at him.
“Fine. So, Harry, what are you doing at St. Mungos?” Draco drew out the man's name, rolling each letter on his tongue, voice thick with sarcasm. He held back the urge to ask whether the man was hurt. He didn’t care. Did he?
“I wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you since the trials. How are you?” Harry took a step closer, his voice kind. Draco could hear the smile in his voice, the git. Merlin. How annoying.
“You’re asking how I am? Have you been hexed?” Draco tried to sound snide but he only managed to sound concerned.
“No, I have not been hexed. Can you answer the question? You always did have a habit of beating around the bush.” Harry looked slightly nervous as his gaze fell to Draco’s hand resting by his side. Harry reached out, grabbed the blond's hand, dragged him to the nearest chairs and sat down. Draco, mouth gaping in shock sat down as well.
“D- I- uh, beating around the fucking what, potter?” Draco struggled to find the words but quickly regained his composure.
“Harry.” The brunet corrected. “And sorry. Muggle phrase. Means you avoid answering.”
Draco shook his head and sighed. “For your information, Harry, I am fine.”
Harry beamed, proud of his ability to finally get a response. “Good. I’m good. And that’s good. That you’re fine. Anyway,” Harry flushed bright red. “As I was saying. You were a drama queen.”
“I absolutely was no such thing.”
Harry scoffed. “You so were! You climbed a tree just to wait for me. You missed the snitch because you were too busy staring at me. You basically stalked me for eight years!”
“And you remembered all of that,” Draco smirked, satisfied that he had shut Harry down. "And you came here to just remind me of my childhood? Unlike some people, I have a brain and have memories."
“Well yeah! It was kind of traumatizing being stalked for most of my childhood.” Harry laughed, his message sarcastic but playful. He disregarded the second part of Draco's statement.
“At least I didn’t watch you change!” Draco retorted.
“Wait a second. How did you know about that?” Harry looked confused. He quickly added, “And I wasn’t watching!”
“Come on. I’m not stupid. And you so were. You like what you see Potty?” Draco stuck his chest out jokingly. Harry gently pushed Draco back using the palm of his hand. The touch lingered on Draco’s skin, feeling warm and comforting.
“I mean, you weren’t that bad looking.” Harry looked away, a crimson colour creeping up his neck.
Draco lowers his voice to barely a whisper. “You may have liked how I looked but at least you didn’t fall in love with me.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “What? You... You love me?”
Draco leaned in, closing the gap between them. “I was completely obsessed with you. Everything you did was all I focused on. Everything I still focus on. We may not have seen each other in a while but I thought about you every day.”
Draco leaned in and closed the gap between the two of them, and gently brushed their lips together. Harry gasped but copied his movements. When Draco finally pulled away he rested his head against Harry’s shoulder, oblivious to the fact that people were staring. When he lifted his head and a pair of green eyes met his gaze he spoke.
“Of course I love you, you fucking moron.”