The Re-Sorting [Drarry, TW SMUT]

"No."

1st POV - Harry

Grimmauld Place was never quiet, not really. The house groaned like it had a voice of its own, the walls whispering secrets I wasn't meant to hear. But tonight, it felt even heavier-like it was holding its breath.

Draco was still here. He didn't leave. But it felt like he wasn't staying around too often either.

It had been days, and I still wasn't used to it. Every time I walked into a room, I half-expected him to be gone. But he wasn't. He was still here. He was quiet. He never complained, hardly talked. Almost as if he was living in the shadows of the house, hovering just out of reach like a ghost I couldn't shake.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I wasn't sure if I didn't want to.

I'm never too sure of anything anymore.

I found him in the library, curled in an armchair by the dim light of a candle. His face was paler than usual, sharp angles cast in flickering gold. I didn't know if he had been eating.

Did I care?

He had a book open in his lap, but he wasn't reading. His fingers hovered over the pages like he was somewhere else entirely.

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Didn't take you for much of a reader."

Draco didn't startle. He just glanced up at me, something unreadable in his expression. "I'm...not. I just don't sleep much."

I hesitated. "Nightmares?"

His fingers twitched. "Something like that."

I should have left it alone. Should have let the silence stretch, turned around, gone back upstairs and ignored the way my chest tightened at the sight of him looking so-small.

Instead, I stepped further into the room.

"You regret it?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "I shouldn't, should I? I should be begging to go back. Crawling back to the Dark Lord. I should be terrified of what happens next."

He met my gaze then, something raw and aching in his grey eyes.

"But I'm not."

The air between us crackled, something sharp and electric curling in my stomach.

I clenched my jaw. "Good," I muttered. "You shouldn't."

He huffed, shaking his head, but there was something softer in his expression. Something almost...

I turned to leave. I needed air, needed distance before I did something stupid.

"Harry."

I froze.

Draco rarely said my name anymore.

I turned back, and his gaze was still on me, heavy and unreadable. "Thanks," he said quietly.

I swallowed. Nodded. Left before I did something reckless.

Like kissing him.

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3rd POV

Draco knew Harry was now avoiding him.

Not in an obvious way, but he could feel it. The way Harry always left a room just a little too quickly, how he kept a careful distance, like Draco was something dangerous.

Maybe he was.

Draco sighed, tilting his head back against the chair. He shouldn't care. All he should care is having a place to hide, to stay. He shouldn't give a damn what Potter thought of him, what he felt when Harry looked at him like-like-that.