BEAUTIFUL DISASTERS ｢DRARRY｣

PART 5

"Harry, hey, wake up. It's already 8."

It had been roughly one week since Harry first landed in Draco's Potions class, and he was oddly content. He liked to think he had already mastered the basics after hours at least three days a week, but Draco told him otherwise. Trust me, we've only really skimmed the surface, he told him, and Harry remembered feeling oddly disappointed.

He hadn't talked to McGonagall during the past week, but that didn't bother him. He liked Draco's company, anyway, and he liked to think that Draco was beginning to like his company too. Draco didn't seem to make friends or trust easily, however, so Harry knew not to wish for anything he couldn't have. He could tell that he had loosened up a bit though, judging by the fact that he was comfortable enough to look at Harry whilst speaking.

All was well, and things were beginning to look up, but that didn't stop Harry from groaning at 8 in the morning when Draco came to wake him up.

"Draco, please, five more minutes," he begged, although he knew well enough that five minutes would turn into twenty.

"Harry, I swear to Merlin if you don't get up, I'm going to literally levitate you off of that bed," he threatened, and although it sounded like a joke, Harry realized with a jolt that he sounded totally serious.

Groaning, he sat up, and looked at Draco after rubbing his eyes thoroughly. "What's on the schedule for today, master?" He asked.

Draco grimaced. "Don't call me master ever again," he said with a cringe. "I think today we'll take it a bit easier, I think I'll just be teaching you more about Hogwarts and magic in general. We could maybe sit by the lake again, if you'd like?"

Harry nodded rapidly. He'd only been to the lake a few times, but he felt so incredibly at peace there.

"Alright then. We'll grab breakfast and then go."

They finished breakfast quick enough, and were at the lake within an hour. The sun was shining as bright as always, and it felt as if the warmth was leaking into Harry's skin. It was bright and beautiful; Harry felt that he'd be content to fall asleep right there.

They had only sat down when Harry decided that he'd been here a week already and that he should already ask the question on his mind. "Draco, why won't you tell me about the war?" He asked, and wished to take it back when Draco instantly turned pale.

"I told you, you should go to McGonagall with the questions," he answered. His voice was stiff as always and he sounded almost normal, but Harry knew him well enough to know that he was uncomfortable. His hands were clenched just a bit more than usual, and he wasn't looking at Harry, but instead at the grass beneath them.

"Can you tell me why you won't tell me, though?" He was desperate, and maybe even a bit selfish. He'd only been here a week; it wasn't as if he belonged here. He didn't have the right to know. He was curious, however. And maybe a little bit intrigued. A wizarding war sounds gruesome, but somehow also interesting.

"The war was scarring for many people... and not just metaphorically. There was so much hatred, so much discrimination, so much dark magic... It was awful, Harry. I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever again." His voice was softer than normal, as well as more quiet. It carried itself in a whisper, and Harry could tell that he shouldn't push it any further.

One day, maybe, he'd go to McGonagall.

"Thank you for telling me, Draco," he whispered back, scared to break the quiet atmosphere.

Draco looked down at his hands, his hair getting into his eyes; Harry told him to stop putting gel in it a few days back, as he really did look much better with it loose. For a moment there, he genuinely looked vulnerable, and Harry wanted to pull him into a hug, to tell him that everything's all right now.

The moment passed, and Draco's gaze turned to Harry. "So, anything you want to know about Hogwarts or the wizarding world?" He asked, but Harry couldn't shake his thoughts. He wanted to be friends with Draco, he thought. Draco was his only teacher, the only person truly there with him. And Draco was intriguing by himself. He was so incredibly intelligent, so incredibly unique. And every time he turned to look at Harry with the sun brightening his face, he felt a sense of belonging, like he was meant to be here.

And so, Harry replied, "I want to know more about you," to Draco's complete shock.

"Me? You want to know more about me?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded.

"Nothing about the war or anything, just you." It felt good saying that, somehow. He could see a friend in Draco. He wanted to be friends more than he wanted to perfect his aguamenti charm.

Draco hesitated to a moment, but to Harry's delight agreed. "My full name is Draco Lucius Malfoy," he started, and to Harry's surprise he grimaced when he said his own name. "I was in the Slytherin house, and my favourite colour is yellow." He gave Harry a look when he giggled.

"Yellow?" He said, snickering. "I thought it would be black or grey or something."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I liked to climb trees as a kid. My favourite subject in school was Potions, but that's hardly a surprise. My least favourite subject is Defence Against the Dark Arts, and I speak fluent French."

"What about your parents?" Harry asked, and realized that Draco's life must have been somewhat shitty if every personal question makes him grimace.

"Maybe one day I'll tell you that story, but today is not that day," he replied, and left it at that. "What about you?" He asked, and Harry found himself oddly delighted that Draco wanted to know more about him.

"I don't have a middle name. My favourite subject in school was math. I don't know if wizards need that stuff, though. I like reading and standing outside in the rain. I also like painting, but I'm not that good at it..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"Is this supposed to be a light kind of thing? Because everything else about me is pretty depressing," he brought himself to mention, and Draco shrugged.

"I want to know more about you in general. If you're comfortable with talking about whatever it is, go ahead," he said, and Harry's heart nearly stopped beating.

He somehow felt overcome with affection for Draco, just at the fact that he told him to do something only if he was comfortable with it. His heart fluttered.

This man was going to be his friend no matter what, damn it.

"I'm from an orphanage, but you already know that. And my last name... well, it's not actually Potter," he explained, and slowly felt himself smiling. The topic was depressing, but for some reason this specific fact was amusing to him despite the circumstances. "I was left on the porch, you see. Just a baby in a basket. However, my mother or father left a... note. It said, his name is Harry, and it was written on the back of a business card for a pottery, so they decided to name me Harry Potter..." he trailed off, smiling in amusement although he felt he shouldn't be.

Draco began to laugh quietly, and Harry's heart rose at the unfamiliar sound, when he tried covering it with a cough. "That's..." Draco began, but was unable to finish the sentence,

"Amusing, I know," Harry said. It really was okay for Draco to be laughing, he didn't take offence. He found it was much better to laugh at his past than to cry about it.

They talked on and on for what felt like only a few minutes before the sun began to go down, and Harry watched as Draco's eyes widened.

"Merlin, how long have we spent here?!" He exclaimed.

Harry grinned. "I'd say a few hours at least," he said. They'd definitely spent more than just a few hours.

It was delightful, though. Beyond delightful. Harry seriously had fun talking to Draco, and even more fun when he caught him laughing a bit. Draco needed to laugh more, he realized. It was a shame that he didn't.

Draco went to stand up, but Harry grabbed his arm, not letting him go. "The sun's about to set," he said, "why pass up an opportunity to watch it?"

The sun began to set, casting warm colours across the sky that gave Harry goosebumps. Draco sat beside him, completely silent but comfortable. The two somewhat-acquaintances watched as the day came to a close. Together.

In that moment, Harry found that he'd never wanted anything more than to stay right there at Hogwarts.