Stay With Me

Chapter 8

**trigger warning for this chapter!

Falling asleep the night before was a struggle. Draco was lying on his back watching the bedroom ceiling sway as if he was on a boat, every movement caused a wave of sickness to flood over him as he scrunched his eyes shut and slammed the pillow over his face.

The only thing that was worth rising for that morning, was the bottle of hydration elixir that Draco was sure he'd seen somewhere in Harry's cupboards.

As he slowly made his way downstairs, the sound of movement from the kitchen tugged a knot in the pit of his stomach.

"Morning," Harry called, emerging through the doorway with a cup of coffee in one hand and toast in the other. His unruly bed hair was bouncing all over the place, falling over his eyes and bursting out at the back. Harry looked up at Draco on the stairs with a friendly smile, then placed his coffee on the side table, slipping on his shoes. "I'm meeting Ron in ten for a friendly game of Quidditch. Not sure when I'll be home, oh! and there's hangover elixir next to the fridge if you need it."

"Right," Draco uttered, searching for any signs of regret or awkwardness. "Listen, Po-Harry... about last night..."

"Yeah?" Harry looked up from tying his laces, oblivious.

Draco hesitated, holding his tongue in uncertainty, he exhaled and scratched his head, "Thanks for cooking."

"Ah, you're welcome! It was cool, I had a laugh," he stood back up and straightened himself out before patting Draco on the arm with a smile, "Glad we're not at each other's throats anymore, about time, don't you think?"

"Yeah."

"Right, see you later, don't forget the leftovers if you fancy them. Bye." he called, waving out the door and closing it behind him.

Relief flooded over Draco as he slumped down on the bottom step.

No awkwardness, no nervous apologies or uncomfortable silences. No ruined friendship.

Either Harry had no recollection of the incident, or he was bold enough to pretend it never happened, either way, Draco was pleased they could carry on as normal, even though becoming friends and sharing the same house as Harry Potter seemed anything but normal.

He made himself a cup of tea and decided to take it out to the garden as the morning was crisp and bright. He took a seat on the bench under the aspen tree, which was his favourite, even the slightest breeze would make the leaves shimmer like fluttering silk.

The warmth as he sipped filled his body with a sense of calm. The tea was rising him from his sleepy start, as well as the droplets of elixir he'd added, which washed over him like a cool shower but something was gnawing in his chest.

'What the fuck happened last night?', he cringed at the memory

Everything had happened so fast and thanks to the three bottles of wine, he could only remember certain parts. Worrying about eating, feeling weak and vulnerable. Harry smashing the bowls. Harry placing an innocent, drunken peck on his cheek before stumbling away.

That's all it was. Just an overly friendly kiss. Nothing more than that. No hidden agenda or deeper motive. Harry didn't even remember anyway. Things were going to be fine.

***

"Loser buys the drinks then?" Harry teased, squeezing Ron on the shoulders as he pounced up behind him. They'd just left the Quidditch club and were heading to The Rook for an afternoon pint in the beer garden.

"It's not exactly a fair advantage is it, considering you've been playing since you were eleven!" Ron mumbled, shoving Harry playfully on the arm.

"Just means I'll never have to pay for a pint!" Harry boasted