Chapter 40- Our Last Paradise

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The couple shared glances during potions on Monday. They were awkward, too long, uncertain, and fragile.

Harry looked like he want to talk, either that or he really had to go to the bathroom, and Draco couldn't stop thinking about how much it hurt hurting him. They were still together, but not comfortably.

He was fucked, and not in the good way either, because one day would come where it would hurt so much worse. It was unavoidable and inevitable.

Slughorn droned on and on, and Draco waited, barely listening to him. As they were dismissed, Draco caught Harry's eye again. He jerked his head and Draco took the sign.

Once everyone left, he followed, but rather than continuing down the hall, he hooked a right into the usual broomstick cupboard, where Harry stood with his eyes on the floor.

Draco shut the door quietly behind him, and they shared a moment of silence before Harry looked up at him. And once he did, Draco immediately wrapped his arms around him and they rested for a few moments.

"I've been thinking..."

The words set Draco's stomach on fire "Mhm?"

"A-Are you sure you still want to be with me," Harry spoke into his shoulder, shaky. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Draco hugged him tighter. "I absolutely want to be with you."

There was a tightness in his throat. "Because you're not just my boyfriend, you're my friend and I want you to be happy. If you're not happy—"

"Shh, Harry," Draco rubbed his back.

"It would be worse for the both of us because I can't stand knowing if you're unhappy."

"I want to be with you," he said. "I do."

"Promise?" Harry nuzzled deeper in to his neck. "You're not lying to me?"

"I promise I'm not lying to you."

Harry squeezed him. "I'm sorry... I can't stop thinking about Friday."

"Me either," Draco swallowed.

A long silence passed of them just searching each other, awkward tension in the air between them. Harry broke it by slowly leaning against the wall, sliding down it, and taking a seat on the floor.

Draco sat next to him, taking his hand and holding it, thinking of how wonderful it felt against his. And Harry let him, breathing deep over and over as Draco absentmindedly played with Harry's fingers.

"Holiday is next week."

"Yeah. It is."

Harry swallowed. "I'm worried."

"Why?"

"Are you going home?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I don't want you to."

"I have to see my mother, Harry. She's distraught."

"But what about Voldemort... will he be there?"

Yes. "I dunno. Hopefully not." He knew Harry hated that answer. "But I just can't leave her alone." A silence passed. "Are you staying at the Weasley's?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You should have fun."

Harry nodded before leaning his head onto Draco's shoulder. "We need to meet one more time before holiday."

"Friday," Draco asked.

"Can't. Promised Ron weeks ago I'd help him with quidditch."

Draco's heart stung, but at the same time he couldn't blame him. The past five weeks, Harry's Fridays were open. "Mm," he kept from making a sly remark. "Thursday?"

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