Blaise was...rambling. Which was unusual.
Well, the rambling itself wasn't unusual, as Blaise usually did it when he was panicking, or when he was asked something he's never been asked before.
The thing is, Draco hadn't asked anything.
And Blaise was just...rambling.
He was sure he heard Ron's name thrown in once or twice or twenty-seven times because yes, Draco was counting.
But he also wasn't paying attention all that much.
No. Draco's mind was racing around a certain green-eyed wizard who stole his first kiss.
The tosser.
It was on repeat, in his head, over and over. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes in fragments. The way Harry looked at him before he lunged at him, smooth and practiced as if he'd done it before. And the way Harry took his face in his hands, softly, where his thumbs rested.
And Merlin, his eyes. The shade of forest green bordering on emerald swimming in his eyes as he looked into Draco's, right before looking down at his mouth.
And the burning sensation that Draco felt when Harry kissed him. Like an inferno inside his stomach that rose only to meet Harry's lips.
It irritates Draco to think like this because he shouldn't. He shouldn't think about Harry Potter this way and he shouldn't be thinking about a measly mistake and he shouldn't be trying to decipher what it means. He shouldn't be thinking about Harry Potter. But he is and he doesn't know what to do.
Shouldn't. Shouldn't. Shouldn't.
But his lips. His eyes. His skin.
Draco groans out of frustration and throws himself back onto his pillows.
"Draco?"
"Yes?"
"Are you listening to me?"
"Every word," Draco sighs and sits up. "Why are you even going on about the man? You are going to see him in a few minutes."
"Well, yes, but isn't it going to be different?"
"Why would it be different?"
"Because we're boyfriends now."
The amount of distance between Draco's hairline and his brows suddenly disappears. "Boyfriends?"
Blaise huffs. "Thought you were listening."
"Blaise, it has only been a month. Not even a month, it has been three weeks!"
"Does it matter," he snaps. "I'm happy and I feel good when I'm around him. He makes me feel happy. Should it matter the amount of time we've known each other?"
"You know nothing about him, man!"
"Says who?"
"Me! And you do not know him properly enough to label your relationship, if it can be called that."
"I don't need to listen to you. You know nothing about relationships. You haven't even been kissed! And you should be happy for me. Happy that I won't be such a burden to you anymore."
Draco opens his mouth to say something but Blaise is already slamming his door shut.
Happy that I won't be such a burden to you anymore.
Bollocks. There goes his only friend.
A burden. Draco wants to scoff. If anything, he's the burden. Always getting Blaise in trouble, hauling him around when he knows it won't do good.
He's delighted that Blaise is more like himself than he has been in years, without the shadow of fear clouding over him. Blaise hasn't genuinely laughed for a very long time, and if Ron Weasley is the first one to make him do that, then Draco has the highest respect for him.
However, it's not enough to make him okay with the fact that they're moving too fast, really. And Blaise won't see that because he's a sucker for boys with pretty smiles. And dare Draco say it, Ron Weasley does have a very nice smile.
And he plays sports. And he's the best friend of the Savior of the Wizarding World. And he's actually a very nice, understanding person. And he is definitely smarter than he leads on.
Blaise got the whole package really, and he's happy. So why does he feel this way?
You know nothing about relationships.
That's not true. Draco was in a relationship with Astoria Greengrass before her family moved to Spain. A lovely witch, very gentle and loving. With her dark hair and her flawless complexion. She always moved around gracefully, her hair floating behind her weightlessly.
Astoria was a beautiful girl. Even after she became sick. She was equally as kind and generous. And even though Astoria was younger, she had this old soul, this soothing aura about her that made Draco feel safe.
She had become one of Draco's favorite people, and it hurt him to watch her get thinner and thinner by the day. He would cry at her bed side, hold her hand delicately as to not crush her frail bones.
But she would always wipe the tears from his blotchy cheeks and smile slowly, tiredly.
"My dear Draco," she'd say quietly. "You mustn't cry on my bedside."
"But...you are dying."
"We all are, love."
"But I do not want you to die."
She'd smile, in that lovely way she did. "No one wants to. But it must happen."
"You are okay with it? You are okay with dying? With leaving me?"
"I won't leave you, ever. I'll always be with you. Wherever you go, you'll take me, in your heart."
And when he'd cry harder, she would just hum. Astoria had the most beautiful voice. Soft, like a queen.
"You don't love me like I love you, I know this. And it is alright. Because the time I've had with you has been the most wonderful. You are a brave soul, Draco. And you will thrive. I know it."
"I need you with me," he'd sniffle. "To do that. You can't go."
"If I don't go, you won't grow. We all need to go one way or another, love. My time just happened to come sooner."
"Are you not mad? Your life is being ripped from you!"
"I've come to terms with it," and she'd lay her head down on her pillow, exhausted. "It's no use putting up a fight if all it will do is tire me further. I have lovely news, as well."
"What is it?"
"My father has found a doctor in southern Spain. He wishes to move there for the time being, to see if the treatments will better me."
Hope had blossomed in his chest that day, and he had hugged her goodbye a million times the morn they sought new treatments in Spain.
He visited quite once, after the trials were over, and he never cried at her bedside again.
Only in his room, alone.
She didn't seem to be getting better, but she didn't seem to be getting worse.
And it's been a few weeks since Draco has written to them, but he hopes all is well.
You should be happy for me!
I am, Draco thinks sadly. I am happy for you. I just want you to be careful.
Blaise doesn't know the difference between happy and lovesick, and Draco has seen him come to terms with the differences way too many times.
It hurts him, too. Seeing Blaise sobbing into his pillow, cursing the world left and right. He's always been too sensitive, to heartfelt. Draco doesn't know how he made it into Slytherin.
Oh, but he does, actually.
Because he's seen the look Blaise gets when he's done crying, when he wants revenge.
He's very creative about it, too. The malice in his eyes is something the Dark Lord would have admired greatly, because Blaise can go from heartfelt to heartless really quick, without second guessing it.
Malevolent would be the only word to describe him at that point.
You haven't even been kissed!
Wrong again, dear friend, Draco thinks sadly.
Yet a part of him feels exhilarated every time he thinks back to this morning. Every time he thinks about Harry Potter's hands on his skin. Every time he thinks about Harry's green eyes focused on him. Every time he feels Harry's lips on him again.
He shivers.
So wrong.
*******
"Are you upset?"
Blaise keeps slashing branches with his wand, frustrated that he still has to do this. He could be studying, for Salazar's sake!
"No," Blaise grunts, aggressively throwing a small branch aside. "Why would you think that?"
"Because," Ron dodges a small piece of bark and looks at Blaise worriedly. "You're being a tad...violent."
The Slytherin stops and looks around, gasping at all the chopped and dead greenery, the exact one they were supposed to be nursing back to health. "Salazar, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Ron steps forward and pulls him into his chest. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"
Ron waits a split moment, listens to Blaise breathing in his scent and rubs his back. "Draco."
"You're having a row with Malfoy?"
"It's not just a row," Blaise lifts his nose from Ron's chest and lays his temple on his shoulder. "This is the first time Draco and I have come to a disagreement on a relationship."
"And that relationship being ours."
"Yes."
"And what did he say?"
"He said that it was too soon to put a label on it. That I don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about me."
Ron stays silent for a moment, he knows Blaise is thinking, and he doesn't want to interrupt him. When Blaise sighs, he knows he's come up blank. "Do you think we jumped into it too soon?"
"No," Blaise exclaims, pulling away from Ron and throwing his hands up. "That's the thing! I don't! And to me, the label means close to nothing because we don't know anything about each other. It's an insurance for me, because I'm an insecure prat who doesn't know how to act around the bloke he fancies!"
The Gryffindor lifts a brow. "The label means nothing?"
Blaise turns around in record time. "What I meant is, I don't care if the label is boyfriend, or significant other. I could call you my husband for all I care. My point is, I wanted you to be my boyfriend because that way I know I can take all the time I need to come to terms with the fact that it's okay to call you my boyfriend."
"But you didn't have to do that," Ron frowns. "I would have waited all the time it takes."
"I know. I know that."
"Blaise," Ron says gently. "I will not do anything you're not ready for. We don't have to be boyfriends, we don't have to not be friends. We can be whatever you want, and we don't even have to label it. I just don't want you to think I'm not going to wait."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you fighting with your best friend over me, that's ridiculous. That's like fighting with Harry over Hermione. Stupid."
"I just...don't like being wrong," Blaise turns around sheepishly. "And especially since it seems that Draco can never do wrong. He knows how to act, in every situation."
"I know, I've seen it."
"And I'm sorry for dragging you into it."
"I don't mind."
Blaise rushes over and pushes himself into Ron's chest again, takes a deep breath and smiles at the smell of leather and chocolate. "Thank you."
"So...not boyfriends?"
"Not boyfriends."
"Still exclusive?"
"Yep."
"Can I kiss you?"
"Nope."
"Worth a shot."