Love or Death || Drarry

Chapter eighteen

Draco is asleep. He fell asleep quite quickly after Harry's and his little conversation and seemed out cold as soon as his head hit Harry's pillow. Although, Harry supposes, it was sort of their bed now, and so was Draco's bed, since they shared them and all. Harry wonders briefly about whether or not new friends shared beds... well, he wouldn't ever share a bed with Ron-

"Make sure, Harry, that Draco come see me tomorrow after breakfast for his first potion," Madam Pomfrey says, cutting Harry's reverie off. He blinks and nods at her, stifling a fake smile as they walk towards Draco's bedroom door.

"And Mr Potter, you and Mr Malfoy are excused from classes tomorrow, seeing as you both obviously need some time to recuperate," The headmistress adds, "Keep an eye on him Mr Potter, as I'm sure he does for you." The professor gives Harry a knowing look over her glasses before turning away. Harry shuffles awkwardly when he watches the two teachers leave, shutting the door behind them quietly as they do.

Harry walks into the bathroom and peeks his head around the door into his own room. Draco is still asleep just as Harry had left him, cuddled up under the covers, eyes red and puffy from his crying. Harry gulps and disappears back into the bathroom a frown on his lips. He didn't like Draco looking so miserable, it didn't suit his gorgeous features at all.

There is is again. Gorgeous? He hadn't even thought of other guys as gorgeous before. He was gay, but he never thought of other guys as any more than just attractive. In fact, Harry had never really thought of anyone as gorgeous before, even while he was having that fling with Ginny and Cho, he thought of them as pretty but... never gorgeous...
Come to think of it... the kiss shared between Cho and himself hadn't been very nice. Harry had put it down to the kiss being so incredibly wet, it was rather unpleasant. But then again she was crying and Harry had done it to conceal his true sexuality in the first place. Then there was Ginny, their brief kisses had been... nice. Not mind blowing, not incredible, just... nice. Barely even that. But Harry had been so sure she was the girl for him, surer than anything else he had ever felt. Even if he wasn't attracted to her in the normal way, he could make it work. He could. Until the end of the war when he realised that if he didn't feel like every kiss they shared was amazing or mind blowing then... well, life was too short to waste your time on it. It made Harry think if he ever really did love her like he had convinced himself he had, or whether it was just a way of avoiding the upcoming war and all the awfulness that was sure to ensue. Like he was looking for any little bit of happiness he could find and clinging to it with all his might. But it wasn't real. It was forced; made up to keep him sane for the time being. His feelings had been multiplied by a thousand because of the trauma, he never really loved her. He wasn't even sure he had liked her as any more than a friend. He just wanted to.

Well, even before the war Harry had come to terms with just how bent he was, but being with Ginny he somehow had managed to put his real sexuality to the back of his mind. Partially for his friends sake so they would stop pestering him about being alone forever and partially because although he had come to terms with his gayness... it didn't mean he fully accepted it yet. Although it was because of the war, it was also partly to do with him suppressing his sexuality, trying to pretend it didn't matter when it very obviously did.

But what he felt with Draco... that was something else. Something else entirely. Something he had never, ever felt before in his life. It was foreign and scary and so, so, incredibly... amazing. Mind blowing. Everything Cho and Ginny were not.
Everything those random men in the bathroom stalls of those muggle clubs during those six months were not.

Unpredictable.
Maddening.
Full of desire and... passion.

Harry knew his and Draco's friendship shouldn't be tampered with, and he wasn't going to try. He was happy with the friendship, as happy as he could be. But the desire to kiss Draco... to hold him or let himself get held was maddening. Almost impossible to overcome. But he would have to get over his little crush to help Draco, and let himself get helped by him, but it was rather hard.

Hard, but not impossible. Harry thinks as he loosens his tie more than it already was, but for some reason he didn't quite believe his own words.

Harry sighs and finishes getting undressed, he steps into the shower and turns it on. It sprays out immediately the perfect temperature and he turns a knob so soap mixes in with the water. The water felt great against his body. He had always liked having very hot showers, almost to the brink of boiling, he never really understood why but he always seemed to feel cold in some way.

Except when Draco touches me.

Harry shakes his head to rid himself of the thought. He really needed to stop thinking like that. Draco was his friend. A friend that he wanted to get pinned up against a wall by and kissed until he couldn't breathe, but still, a friend.

Harry's gaze travels down to his stomach, the place his gaze always seems to wander when he was in the stomach. The scars across his upper and lower stomach where long and stretched, some pink, others white, some deep and long some thin and small. But they where scattered across the expanse of skin haphazardly and very noticeable. There were some on his wrists and biceps, not many but the ones that were there where thick and deep. It was disgusting. He did that to himself. It's no wonder he always put on a concealing charm before he left in the morning. Just in case his robes were pulled up for whatever reason, that's why when Harry had taken off his shirt when Draco had insisted on keeping watch while he slept Draco hadn't seen anything. The concealing charm worked for a number of hours, but by the end of the day it wore off unless Harry reapplied the charm. It was just a precaution, one he needed to take.

But although Harry hated the way the scars looked, he still couldn't help the urge to make more. It was pathetic, he knew, but he also couldn't help the need, the impulse, to cut his skin up into ribbons. It helped him feel in control, and control was something Harry had lacked his whole life. Perhaps it was also to do with punishment, a way of punishing himself for what he did during the war, letting so many die because of his cowardice.

Like Draco. Except Draco punishment was mental that was expressed outwardly and not deliberate, Harry's, well, it was outwardly expressed and very much deliberate. Plus, Harry deserved it, Draco didn't. He definitely didn't. The Slytherin didn't deserve half the shit he got handed, it made Harry mad to think that Draco subconsciously thought he deserved what he got when he very clearly didn't.

Harry finishes up his affairs in the shower and after turning the water off steps out. He dries himself, making sure not to look at himself in the mirror as he pulls on his clothes. Once he's done he makes his way back into his bedroom where Draco was lying still sprawled out on the bed. Harry smiles slightly at the sight before he walks over to the bed.

He doesn't get in, not yet. Harry is momentarily stunned to a stop, almost like he's been stupefied, as he stares down at the sleeping figure. Perhaps it was slightly stalkerish to just he staring at Draco while he slept, but Harry simply didn't care. The boy was simply too gorgeous not to stare at. His eyelashes were long, almost feminine as they lay softly against the top of his cheeks. His skin was pale like it always was, but also seemed to be glowing in a way Harry couldn't even describe. Like... moon beams. The area around Draco's eyes were red and slightly puffy, much to Harry's concern, but his face was the epitome of peaceful. No more frown lines, no more lost expression. He looked completely and utterly peaceful for the first time since Harry had seen him.

It made Harry sad to think about but before he could think too much about it he slips into the bed beside Draco. Harry lays his head on the pillow beside The Slytherin, he was laying on his side while Draco lay on his back. Harry watched the slight rise and fall of Draco's chest and the way his lips were slightly parted. Harry had never really noticed this before, but, Draco seemed to look ethereal from all angles, which didn't seem possible to Harry yet it was. The side of Draco's face was as gorgeous as the front view which Harry found rare in people. Well, he knew for certain that his side view didn't look as good as his front view. Not that he thought his front view looked that great, either. But whatever.

Just when Harry was about to fall asleep, having closed his eyes to do so, a slight movement next to him made him open his eyes. Draco had moved his head so that his face was now directly in front of Harry's own. Harry could practically feel the Slytherins breath in his own lips and it was then that he realised not just that they seemed to be closer to each other than Harry had first though but also that, well, perhaps this small crush Harry had on Draco was a fair bit larger than that.