iris | drarry

chapter 22

Harry's next couple of weeks went by in a flash. He had taken to sleeping in Draco's bed with him, waking up in the morning tangled within each other. They had a similar class schedule, so they woke up, ate breakfast, and went to classes together. 

Harry felt better than he had in years. He was eating better, not thinking about drugs as much, and overall just felt happier. He hadn't told anyone else about him and Draco yet, only talking to Hermione about it behind closed doors. 

The more Harry told Hermione about the different things Draco did and said, how much he helped and adored him, the more Hermione seemed to get onboard with him and Draco. 

Harry didn't know what to call him, his friend? Friend with some benefits? Certainly not boyfriend, they hadn't had that talk yet. Harry hoped it came soon, though. He wasn't certain about much in life, but he was certain in that he wanted to be Draco's boyfriend more than anything. 

Draco was just... amazing. He would wake him up by pressing soft kisses on his face, would steal flowers from the center of the tables at breakfast and place them on Harry's bed for him to find later. He always ran in front of Harry just to open doors for him, and kept leftover food in his bag in case Harry got hungry during the day. 

He was funny, too. Draco had a muted humor to him that Harry was extremely fond of, and he had also realized how sensitive Draco actually was. They'd shared Dobby stories one night, Harry finally telling Draco about how he buried him. 

That was the first time Harry had ever seen Draco wipe away tears.

Draco talked about his mom, how much he loved her and missed her. Harry found out that after the war, his father had taken his mother and ran away into hiding, Draco having no idea where they were. But even with all that sadness, Draco always was able to cheer Harry up. 

Draco would sing songs, grabbing Harry's hand and dancing with him around the living room, a radio in the corner playing old jazz tunes. Draco would twirl Harry until he nearly fell, always being there to catch him, giving him extra kisses for good measure. 

It was starting to become normal, natural, habitual even, which is why when Harry walked in one day from class and found no flowers on his bed, he was confused. 

Maybe he just forgot today.

That was fine. Draco wasn't obligated to do it or anything. He hadn't asked him to, he shouldn't be expecting it. His heart shouldn't have dropped as much as it did.

He placed his bag down on the floor of his room, walking over to Draco's room. He knocked on the door gently, battling his disappointment. 

"Come in," Draco's voice echoed from within. 

This was weird to Harry, as Draco usually sat in the living area waiting for Harry to come back from class, ready to give him a hug and a kiss. 

He opened the door, stepping into the room. Draco was sitting at his desk, writing something on a piece of parchment. He didn't even look up as Harry entered. 

"Hey," he said softly, walking over to the desk. He stood behind Draco, bending down and wrapping his arms around his neck from the back. 

Draco shrugged him off. "Not now, Harry."

Harry pulled away instantly, his heart falling down into his stomach. He hugged his arms to his chest, biting his lip nervously. 

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly. Draco continued writing, not answering him. 

"Did I do something?"

Nothing but the sound of quill writing on parchment. 

"I- Uh- I'll just go, then-" Harry mumbled, hesitating before turning and walking swiftly out of the room, closing the door rather loudly behind him as he ran into his own room.