Waking Moments (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Three

"Relax, I'm teasing," he says, finally turning around. "I'm not very good at it," he adds with a roll of the eyes. He's dressed the most casually Harry's ever seen him; navy joggers and a grey long sleeved t-shirt that he's rolled up to the elbows. His blond hair ruffles in the wind glancing off the great lake stretched out below them, and his angular face has a softness to it that Harry doesn't remember from their years together at school.

"Oh," says Harry a little stupidly. "Did you want to be alone?"

"From other people," he states. "Yes. But like I said the other night, I don't mind you so much."

He grins lopsidedly, and Harry feels his insides flutter. "You remember that then," he says, coming out to stand next to the balcony edge as well, a few feet away from Draco. "I wasn't sure, you didn't say anything."

Draco shrugs. "Neither did you, I didn't want to push it."

Harry feels his courage swell, and the tingling in his lower regions propels him a step closer. "And what is 'it' exactly?" he asks.

Draco leans on the stone lip again and looks up at him through his hair. It's got a bit longer since the summer, and it adds to this new softness Harry's seeing more and more of. "Don't worry," Draco assures him. "'It' doesn't have to be anything. Like I said, I was drunk, I maybe acted rashly, but I don't regret it. So you don't have to say anything if you don't want, I'd be happy carrying on with this arrangement we now have of not killing each other."

Harry wonders if that's the longest and most pleasant thing Draco's ever said to him. Probably. And the fact he's giving Harry a pass, not pressuring him, it's a shift in personality as well. The aggression that laced his every action seems to have melted somewhat, and he's more approachable because of it.

Harry doesn't want a pass to forget what happened. He wants to know more.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Not killing each other is good, but – you were trying to pull me into bed, I didn't make that up right?"

"No, you did not," Draco replies evenly. "But I can see how you'd be disgusted with the idea, so if you're not interested, that's fine. But I'm not really up for any personal attacks on my moral standing."

"I don't care if you're gay," Harry says quickly and decisively.

Draco arches an eyebrow. "How refreshing," he drawls. "But that's not exactly what I meant." He brandishes his Dark Mark, his fist closed defensively below it. "Surely you see how ridiculous it is for me to want you, after the way I've treated you, and your friends, this whole school even. I'm not fool enough to think that wouldn't be stacked against me."

Harry takes in the mark. If he's cut on himself again, he's done a better job of healing the wounds than before. He can't help but hope that instead he just hasn't replaced the razorblade that Harry still has sitting on his bedside cabinet.

He thinks about what he wants to say, how he wants to say it. "I spoke at your trail," he starts.

"I noticed," Draco quips, and Harry glares at him to be quiet.

"I think I understand what you went through a lot better than you realise," he carries on, holding Draco's gaze until the other boy breaks and studies his tattoo instead. "You were in an impossible situation with Voldemort" – Draco winces but he ignores it – "A situation your father put you in. And now you're free, you've got your life back, and it isn't hard to see you're trying to make the most of it. You've come back to school, and that can't be easy, people haven't been kind to you."