Protection (Drarry)

Chapter Nine

They decided to apparate to Malfoy Manor, since someone could easily watch the Manor fireplaces for Malfoy to appear. After a long silence, Harry realised that Malfoy was taking longer than he should to work out their apparition stopovers. He looked up to see Malfoy staring into space. He looked lost. Harry suddenly realised that despite how much Malfoy had brushed it off on the outside, his father's death was hitting him hard.

Harry mentally kicked himself for not understanding sooner. Malfoy's father had meant everything to him. Harry might have dealt with something similar with Sirius, but he had still only known him a couple of years. And besides, he and Malfoy were completely different people, so they were going to deal with grief differently. Harry had become little more than a zombie, making it blatantly obvious how he was feeling, but Malfoy was acting exactly the same as he always did. Harry should have recognised that something more was going on underneath.

That was when last night suddenly clicked into place.

"Er, Malfoy," he said, trying not to sound awkward.

Malfoy looked up at him, making a visible effort to appear normal.

"It's okay," Harry continued, rubbing the back of his neck and finding that he couldn't actually look at Malfoy while he was speaking. "I get it."

Malfoy frowned, but Harry pressed on before he could say anything.

"I didn't even think, you know, about your dad. And we deal with things differently, but even I acted kind of barmy when Sirius died. I kept looking around for his ghost until Nick told me it wouldn't happen. And then I looked for him in the mirror-" Harry realised he wasn't making sense. On the plus side, Malfoy was looking significantly more normal with an expression of scorn creeping onto his face. "Anyway," Harry decided to start again. "People do weird things when they're grieving. So I get why you kissed me, and I'm not thinking anything into it."

Malfoy blinked, looking surprised.

Harry laughed. "I guess I pushed you a bit anyway by telling you that you weren't gay. If someone had shoved that in my face when I was trying to help them get a proper date, I'd feel angry enough to want to prove something, too."

Malfoy's eyes widened, making him look comically shocked. Then relief suddenly crossed his face. "Well, yeah," he said, trailing off, his temporary speechlessness making him sound almost like Harry. He smirked. "You could say that was the final straw." He narrowed his eyes. "But I never told you I was gay."

Harry smirked at him, enjoying the brief role reversal. "Well, I figured it out somewhere around the time you shoved your tongue down my throat."

Malfoy looked faintly horrified at Harry's lack of tact.

"Actually, I'm lying," Harry said, deciding to give Malfoy a break. "You confused the hell out of me. But then I realised that if you weren't gay and had just been trying it on, you would have made a massive effort afterward to convince me you weren't gay. But you didn't even care about that. You only cared that you had kissed me without meaning to, so I should have realised you were just messed up about your dad."

Malfoy smirked. "I always knew you were an idiot, Potter," he said. "Mortal enemies for seven years and you couldn't figure it out."

Harry shot him a glare, but there was no real malice behind it.

There was another silence, but this time there was no tension. "So, we're fine?" Malfoy asked finally.

"My eleven year old self would kill me for saying it, but yeah," Harry replied with a grin.