No one said a word when Harry and Draco walked into the Weasley's kitchen. Everyone's eyes were on the blonde haired intruder, Harry swore he could see several jaws unhinge.
Harry shrugged off his coat and extended his arm toward Malfoy who placed his suitcase on the wooden floor hesitantly before removing his own coat and placing it over Harry's arm.
"Well, now that they're here I think we can begin dinner," Hermione cut through the silence of the room, taking a seat next to Ron at the table who was glaring at Malfoy. Mrs Weasley collected herself and nodded in agreement, flicking her wand and causing the lids of the pots on the table runner to lift off and pile themselves in the sink.
There were two spots left at the table, one next to Ron who was piling his plate with food, still glancing distrustfully at Draco, and the other adjacent to it and beside Arthur at the head of the table.
Harry sat next to his best friend and pulled out the last remaining empty chair for Malfoy. He studied at Arthur's unsure expression as the son of the man who despised him and his family sat at his table next to him silently, fully aware of all the eyes upon him.
The initial shock of Malfoy's sudden appearance seemed to wear off after several minutes. Usual conversation resumed and Harry began to dig into his dinner. He kept glancing at Malfoy, attempting to decipher his body language in order to discern whether he was okay.
Harry placed his fork down momentarily on his plate and brought his right hand under the table cautiously. He turned to the conversation, more like an argument, that Ginny and Ron were having as he reached for Malfoy's arm in a gesture of support. His hand connected with fabric and Draco jumped in alarm.
Harry realised that it was not his arm that his knuckles had brushed against, it was Draco's thigh.
If life was a cartoon, steam would be billowing out of Draco's ears as his face turned bright red and his eyes bore holes into the boy next to him. Harry stifled a laugh and smiled at him apologetically.
"Sorry," said Harry, still chuckling.
"I get that I'm irresistible, Potter. But could you please refrain from feeling me up at the dinner table," Draco hissed, regaining his composure with a sly smirk. Harry curled his fingers into a fist and punched him in the same place his fingers brushed against not too long ago.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry shook his head with a small smile still plastered on his face.
+ + +
"Oh no dear," Mrs Weasley took the dirty plate out of Malfoy's hands. "You go upstairs with Harry now and put your stuff down."
Draco looked at Harry unsurely who nodded before grabbing both of their coats and Draco's suitcase.
"Give me that," Malfoy ordered, snatching the handle away from Harry's grasp.
Harry led the way up the creaking stairs, looking back to Draco every so often, laughing to himself as the ex-rich kid looked around in disgust at the Burrow's dirty and raggedy interior.
"This is it," Harry pushed open Ron's bedroom door. Draco's face said it all and Harry rolled his eyes with a smile. "Nine days, I'm sure you can survive. It's better than being locked up in the castle."
Draco nodded, glancing around distastefully at all of Ron's memorabilia and knick-knacks.
"This is you," Harry pointed to the stretcher bed next to his own, placing both their coats on the stand behind Ron's door. "Sorry, it's no four poster."
"It's fine," Draco placed his suitcase emblazoned with the Malfoy crest at the foot of the makeshift bed. "But I guess it is better than being at Hogwarts or, home."
"No snarky remark?" Harry folded his arms. "Not even a scoff?"
"You think so little of me, Potter," Draco smiled sarcastically.
"I'm sorry. It's just, who was the one who spent a good thirty per cent of his adolescence taking a dig at this family?" Said Harry in a tone that could not be perceived as anywhere near apologetic.
"Can you quit it with that?" Malfoy raised his voice, reaching into his pocket forcefully as if to threaten Harry with his wand. His face fell and he slowly retracted his hand. For a second Harry was not sure what would happen next, whether Draco would curse him, shout or even cry.
Malfoy soon decided that he would storm over to his designated stretcher bed and sit down angrily. Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his sneakers off before walking over Draco's bed and sitting down on his own that was flush against the wall.
"Absolutely not," Draco snapped his head around to him. "I will not have you clambering over me in the middle of the night."
"Fine," Harry smirked, loving having Draco out of his comfort zone for once; the boy was so on edge. He scooted himself over onto the other bed, making sure he was invading Malfoy's personal space. "Have mine."
Draco took no hesitation in retreating away from Harry's touch and onto what had been the black haired boy's bed for the past few days. Draco leant against the wall, never ceasing his glare at Harry who was feeling all too confident for his liking.
Harry laid on his back, happily watching an uncomfortable Malfoy attempt to maintain his aloof front.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked. Harry chuckled.
"Well this is my bed now, I can do whatever I want," he said.
Draco huffed before he readjusted his position to lay on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows next to Harry.
"It smells like you," Malfoy noted, scrunching up his nose.
"Funny that."
Silence fell between them as it so often did. Draco was playing with his hands while Harry fell deep into thought.
What was it about the Slytherin boy that captivated Harry so? Was it their shared history entangled with the Dark Lord? Or perhaps something more? Draco's neatly combed fringe fell forward, almost touching his eyebrow and Harry couldn't help himself but study every detail of his face. Harry wondered to himself how he had never heard of any girlfriend's of Malfoys. He was, of course, handsome, Harry wasn't insecure enough to admit that. He cast his mind back to a conversation he had with Ron a few days ago. He had never considered the possibility that Draco could be gay. Surely he wasn't, someone of his proud heritage couldn't, could he?
The sound of the door opening caused Malfoy to spring up from the bed at speeds Harry thought not possible.
"Mum said you'd be up here," said Ron flatly. His eyes darted between Harry on what he assumed was Draco's bed and the Slytherin himself, red as a tomato standing at the foot. "What were you doing?"
"Nothing," Draco snapped. "Being perfectly orderly."
"Yeah, whatever," huffed Ron, not taking his eyes off Malfoy as he walked to his bed. "I don't want any funny business from you, alright?" Ron pointed at Draco accusingly.
"I haven't done anything all year!" Draco glared at Ron, balling his hands into fists. "If I had my wand I'd teach you a lesson about disrespect-"
"What was that? You don't have a wand?" Laughed Ron with a mocking tone. "Did McGonagall make you leave it with her? See, she doesn't even trust you."
"Well, if I had my wand and I happen to accidentally use it on an insolent little weasel like yourself, it's not just me who would get in trouble. You would be aiding in the resist of my arrest!"
"Well, I'm sure the Ministry wouldn't mind if I teach you a lesson myself," Ron reached for his Willow wood wand.
"Both of you, shut up!" Harry yelled, getting to his feet and standing between them.
No one said anything. Harry looked between both Ron and Draco who were both breathing heavily and glaring at each other.
"I'm going to get some air," Draco turned, taking his coat off its hook and leaving Ron and Harry alone together.
"That insufferable git!" Ron groaned, falling onto his bed.
"Hang on, you started that fight," Harry reminded him.
"Yeah, because the look on his face when I walked in was incredibly suspicious. Was he doing anything, you know, Malfoy-y before I arrived?" Ron asked.
"No!" Harry scoffed. "In fact, I was the one annoying him! Stop assuming he's up to no good, he has changed!"
Ron refused to meet Harry's eye, playing with his wand in his fingers. Harry sighed.
"I'm going to go find him before he does anything stupid." Harry took his own coat and sneakers and left Ron alone.
+ + +
Harry walked out into the frightfully cold air of the English countryside. The sun had almost completely set, a thin blanket of orange light still peeked of the trees in the distance. Without a wand, Draco couldn't have gotten far.
"Lumos," Harry whispered. The tip of his wand illuminated a little of his surroundings, but most importantly, it illuminated a trail boot prints left in the snow.
He followed the boot prints in the snow until he saw the outline of a person sitting on a tree stump.
"Hello Draco," he said softly. Draco didn't turn around but instead, he moved so that he was no longer sitting in the middle of the stump, but to one side as if silently inviting Harry to sit with him.
Harry obliged, walking closer and sitting next to the Slytherin who continued to look straight ahead. Their sides were completely touching. Harry could feel Draco shiver a little bit and assumed it was because of the temperature. Harry snaked his left arm around Draco's back and his hand came to rest in the taller boy's jacket's pocket.
"What the hell are you doing?" Malfoy asked, not as offended as Harry thought he might have been.
"You shivered. I thought you wouldn't mind some extra warmth."
Draco said nothing after that. Harry noticed how thin Draco really was as he rested his hand on the other boy's thigh inside the jacket. He noted how Draco was sitting so stiffly and wished he would relax into him. Harry again assumed it was because he was cold and decided to rest his head on Draco's shoulder and into his scarf.
"Potter," Draco warned but Harry didn't care. This is what friends do and Draco just had to accept that they were friends.
"I'm sorry about Ron," said Harry in a quiet voice. "He just needs some time to come around to you."
"I'm not worried about him," said Draco. "In six months I'll never have to see him again."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I'm not staying here. I'm going to emigrate, perhaps to France."
"You speak French?"
"You don't?"
Harry chuckled lightly. "Relax a little."
Draco obeyed and Harry felt the other boy's cold cheek rest atop his head.
"Isn't this nicer?" Harry smiled.
"Shut up."
Harry suddenly felt as if there was a weight in his gut. Somewhere below his intestines was a feeling that made him feel both hot and cold at the same time. His brain was running in overdrive; telling him to be closer to Malfoy at the same time as running far, far away. He twisted his wand in his right hand as it was the only part of his body that felt safe to move.
"You okay?" Draco noticed Harry's anxious fiddling. Harry nudged Draco off him, however not moving the arm that held him, so that he could look Draco in the eye.
The weight seemed to pull back and punch him in the gut as he saw the distance between them. The air he breathed in through his nose was hot, their nose would touch if they were any closer. Harry could see every detail of Draco's irises and realised that they had never been this close before.
It was an accident, that's what Harry told himself anyway, when his own green eyes darted down to Draco's pale lips and back up to his eyes.
Draco definitely noticed which was what Harry dreaded. He felt Draco squirm next to him but he still did not remove his arm, it was as if Harry had lost control of his body.
The two could have sat like this for mere seconds or even hours, time had ceased to exist in Harry's mind.
Something in Harry's chest was tugging toward Draco like a magnet but Harry couldn't imagine how they could be any closer.
He watched as Draco swallowed thickly before inching forward so slowly that Harry didn't realise until their noses brushed ever so slowly.
"I think we should go back inside, it's getting late," said Harry, barely above a whisper. Draco pulled away from him harshly and nodded. Harry retracted his arm and got to his feet, watching Malfoy nervously as he followed suit. They walked back to the house in silence but Harry was thinking of only one thing; the image of Draco Malfoy's face so close to his own