complimentary colours • drarry •

22: epilogue

Friday 10th April 1999

Harry stood behind Draco in the front hallway of Grimmauld Place as he faced the mirror, scrutinising his appearance. As if he didn't look ridiculously hot in his suit, with this blond hair effortlessly hanging loose over his forehead.

"You look fine, stop messing with your hair," he tutted, stepping forward to lean against the mirror, trying to draw Draco's attention to him instead. He had already been considering slicking it back like he used to, before Harry had insisted he shouldn't.

It had been Draco's idea to wear muggle suits. Even though he had protested actually going through with it, Harry had insisted. Mostly because when they had gone to the tailors and Draco had tried on the simple black suit and green tie, it had fit around his body so nicely that Harry almost didn't want him to take it off. He had made Draco pick his out for him, and after making him try on about twenty options, he'd decided on a grey suit over a black shirt. Harry had never considered himself a particularly attractive person but the way Draco's eyes kept lingering on him definitely didn't make him feel insecure.

"Just because you're happy to walk around with a bird's nest on your head, doesn't mean I am."

Harry looked to the ceiling, then reached forward and swatted Draco's hands away from his hair.

"Stop it," he said. "It looks better like this, trust me."

Draco finally dropped his hands to his sides with a huffed sigh and looked away from his reflection to Harry. His permanent worried frown was back, making an unwelcome return in the last week.

They hadn't really had to deal with anyone but their families since the article was published, but now they were going to an event of hundreds of people who will have definitely read it. Draco had made him read the article through to see what people were saying, as if some stranger's words were going to make him change his mind. After reading it he had shoved the paper back in Draco's lap with a shrug, telling him it changed nothing. He'd thought he might have finally got through to him - it had been enough for him to convince Draco that they should still attend the Gala - but he had been quiet since the day before, when he'd knocked on his door, back from the Manor. Harry just wanted to know what was going on in his head. Whether he was considering running away from everything, going home and hiding forever or if he was just worrying.

He had seen him once again reading the article in the living room the night before. He wondered how many times he'd read it over, taking every insult to heart. He took it as a good sign that he hadn't run away. At least not yet. He was still here, standing next to him, trusting him enough to face something that scared him.

Draco thought of himself as a coward, but Harry thought he was braver than he'd ever given him credit for.

He just needed to take one last step and actually leave the house. They'd agreed to meet Hermione and Ron half an hour ago, and though they expected nothing better from Harry, they trusted that Draco would get him there on time.

Draco reached out and straightened his already straight tie, just for something to do with his hands. "This is a terrible idea."

It was the same thing he'd said the first time he'd kissed him, something that Harry thought had been a very good idea.

"It's not," he said, hoping that if he said it firmly enough, his confidence would rub off on him.

Instead of arguing, like Harry knew he wanted to, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile and he looked away, shaking his head. "Your confidence is infuriating, did you know that?"

"I'm just being realistic," he said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"