Waking Moments (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Eight

   Harry wakes.

There's a thunderstorm raging outside and the flickers with a spectacular flash of lightning, illuminating the stacks of unpacked boxes still littering the bedroom. Draco, of course, is somehow sound asleep, but Harry is wide awake now and won't be drifting off at least until the storm had passed.

So he eases carefully off the bed and picks his way through the boxes, into the hallway and out into the living room, rubbing his arms against the slight chill. He just stands there a while, imagining what it's going to look like when everything's unpacked, when he and Draco tumble their lives together in one, lovely flat.

It's different to the room they shared at Hogwarts, and even the wing Narcissa had very kindly let them have at the Manor. This was all their own. It isn't the biggest flat, but Harry had wanted somewhere in Muggle London where he and Draco could both enjoy a certain degree of anonymity, and they'd decided not to throw away their fortunes on too much rent. So this cosy little place in Clapham had been the result, and Harry couldn't be happier as he runs his hands over the kitchen counter before going to stand at the window.

The railway line is just visible over the roof tops, and Harry watches a long freight train trundle slowly past, lugging its never-ending cargo behind it. There's something so light and fluttery on his chest it's almost akin to panic, but he knows it's really just giddiness. He's never felt so free in his whole life; no Voldemort looming over his shoulder, no battles to face, but most importantly, he feels content now he and Draco are carving out their lives together. They have their own space to come home to everyday, no one else to please once the door closes behind them. They are building an empire of two, and it's safe and warm and Harry just wants to burst with happiness and the prospect of all the possibilities before them.

He feels no pressure from Draco, he realised that pretty early on in the relationship. Although he went about it in the most appalling manner initially, Draco has always loved Harry for who he is. To him, he's not the Boy Who Lived, or The Saviour. He's just...Harry.

He knows now he was scared that day on the train, when he'd insulted Ron and behaved like a first class wanker. Harry wishes he had just been a bit nicer, so that he could have accepted his handshake and saved them both a lot of trouble. But, as someone wise once told him, if wishes were horses they'd all be eating steak. There's no sense musing on what could have been, because that would be jeopardising where they've ended up now, and Harry wouldn't trade this little flat or the rumbles from the rail line for the world. He's sure there's damp in the bathroom, and Draco complained miserably about the lack of storage space, the floorboards creak and he's pretty sure their landlady is a crook.

But they'd made it this far together, such an unlikely pair, and they were going to carry on together. Harry realises that as he looks out the window into the night's sky, and he smiles. He's in this for the long haul.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice mumbles sleepily as he comes behind Harry and wraps his arms around his waist, resting his head on the side of Harry's.

Harry folds his arms over Draco's, and rubs his thumbs over Draco's knuckles. "Thinking about how I'm stuck with you now, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Damn straight," Draco agrees, and kisses his neck.