The Re-Sorting [Drarry, TW SMUT]

"No. I should be afraid of losing you."

1st POV - Draco

I didn't know how to do this.

Standing in the dim light of Grimmauld Place, with Harry's fingers still wrapped around mine, I felt like I was walking a tightrope with no safety net. One wrong step and I'd fall-dragging him down with me.

But he wouldn't let go.

Even now, after everything, after knowing exactly what I was, what I'd done, what I was still tied to-he held on.

I looked at our hands. My grip was weak, hesitant. His was steady, grounding.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his gaze. "You shouldn't trust me."

Harry's jaw clenched. "You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

Harry let out a sharp breath and pulled his hand away. For a moment, a sting of cold settled in my chest-but then he grabbed me by the collar instead, yanking me closer until our faces were inches apart.

"Then give me a reason not to," he growled, eyes blazing. "One real reason. Because all I see is someone who's terrified of admitting he doesn't want to be their puppet anymore."

My breath caught.

"I see someone who's scared shitless of the fact that he cares about me," he continued, voice dropping lower, almost unsteady. "And I see someone who kissed me like it was the only thing keeping him alive."

I flinched. "I-"

"Tell me I'm wrong," he demanded.

I didn't. I couldn't.

Because he wasn't.

I clenched my fists at my sides, shaking my head. "Harry-"

"Draco." His voice was quieter now, pleading. "I need to know where you stand."

Where I stood.

Somewhere between salvation and damnation.

Somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to stay.

Somewhere between a war I had no way out of and the boy who made me want to fight anyway.

I exhaled sharply, looking away. "It's not that simple."

Harry's fingers curled tighter in my shirt. "Yes, it is."

My chest ached. My throat felt raw. I wanted to fight him on this. I wanted to tell him he was an idiot, that he was setting himself up to be hurt, that he should be pushing me away, not trying to hold onto me like this.

But instead-

I kissed him. Again.

I didn't think. I didn't plan. I just moved.

Harry made a startled noise, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he pressed closer, his hands finding my face, his fingers threading into my hair. He kissed me back with that same desperate conviction, that stubbornness that had always made him impossible to ignore.

And just like before, I felt the tightrope beneath me snap.

I was falling.

And for the first time, I wasn't trying to stop it.

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1st POV - Harry

Draco kissed me like he was trying to memorize every inch of me, like he was terrified I might disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough.

I kissed him back just as fiercely.

Because I wasn't going anywhere.

His hands trembled against my skin, like he wasn't used to this-to being wanted, to being chosen. And maybe that was the worst part of it. That Draco Malfoy-the boy who had spent his whole life acting untouchable-didn't know how to believe he deserved this.

I pulled back just enough to whisper, "I'm not afraid of you."

Draco's breath stuttered, his fingers gripping my shoulders. "You should be."

I shook my head. "No. I should be afraid of losing you."

Something in his expression cracked at that, his entire body shuddering like I'd just knocked the air out of his lungs.

He exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against mine. "You're a fucking idiot, Potter."

I smiled, my thumb tracing his cheek. "Yeah. But I'm your idiot."

Draco let out a weak, broken laugh before pulling me back into him, holding on like he was finally starting to believe it.