In the gentle embrace of healing, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are trying to find some sort of solace after a war fought by children. Both carrying the weight of past wounds, they converged on the intersection of vulnerability and resilience, weavi...
As Draco Malfoy made his way back to the Slytherin common room after seeing Harry Potter safely to his dormitory, his mind buzzed with the lingering memory of their study session. He couldn't shake the sense of contentment that had settled over him, like a warm cloak enveloping him in comfort.
The library had been quiet, illuminated by soft candlelight as Draco and Harry poured over their textbooks together. Despite their past hatred, Draco found himself surprisingly at ease in Harry's presence. There was a camaraderie between them, a shared purpose in their pursuit of knowledge, that Draco hadn't anticipated.
As he retraced his steps through the castle corridors, Draco couldn't help but smile to himself as he recalled the way Potter's eyes had lit up with excitement whenever they discussed a particularly challenging potion or magical theory. There was an infectious enthusiasm in Potter, and Draco found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.
But it wasn't just Potter's intellect that Draco found appealing—it was the little things, too. The way his hair fell in untidy locks across his forehead, the way his glasses slipped down his nose when he was deep in thought, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief whenever he cracked a joke. Draco found himself captivated by Harry's every move, every gesture, every expression.
And good god the lip gloss that graced the other boys perfect lips. Draco couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched the other during their time together. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of him when he approached him. There was something utterly mesmerizing about the way the light caught the glossy sheen of his lips, accentuating their fullness and adding a subtle sparkle to his smile. He truly thought that he was going to die.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts he steps through the door to the common room.
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Draco strode purposefully down the winding path that led from Hogwarts to the village of Hogsmeade. The crisp autumn air nipped at his cheeks, but he paid it little mind, his thoughts focused on the already eventful day he has had.
He had agreed to meet Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini at the Three Broomsticks, the cozy tavern nestled in the heart of the village. It had been some time since they had all been together, and Draco was looking forward to catching up with his old friends. Granted he did have lunch with them.
As he pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks, the warmth and bustle of the tavern enveloped him like a familiar embrace. The scent of butterbeer and roasting chestnuts filled the air, and Draco felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him as he scanned the crowded room.
It didn't take long for him to spot Pansy and Blaise seated at a table in the corner, their heads bent together in conversation. Draco's lips curved into a smile as he made his way over to them, weaving through the throngs of witches and wizards with practiced ease.
"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, her face lighting up with delight as she caught sight of him. "You're late."
Draco rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "Fashionably late, as always," he replied, taking a seat beside her.
