Saving Myself || A Drarry Story

IX: Talking

Draco, the next night, sat on Harry's bed as Harry paced back and forth in his dorm, his mouth moving quickly ad Draco listened to him talk and talk and talk.

". . .so then I just sort of sat there stupidly while she was talking and---I feel like I'm talking a lot."

Draco shook his head and smiled. "I don't mind."

Harry twisted a bit of his hair into a tight corkscrew as he thought of what to say. He never had somebody to listen to him, so it felt weird to just talk to somebody.

"What about your home?" Draco offered the topic. "You never speak of it."

"Because I don't want to, " Harry snapped. He didn't apologize, but he continued talking about nonsense. "Once, for Christmas, my parents got me a desk set. It was nice with all of these quills and inks and stamps and---"

"A desk set? Gross, "

Harry looked bewildered. "You never got desk sets? For birthdays or Christmas?"

"No, "

"Oh, " Harry muttered, his cheeks flushed. "Never?"

"Nope, "

Harry sat down at his desk and asked Draco, "What have you gotten instead?"

"Stuff that I wanted."

Harry frowned. "That's weird."

Draco laughed, "It's really not."

Harry smiled and laughed as well, though he wasn't completely sure what was so funny.

"You should do that more often, " Draco told him quietly.

"What?"

Draco smiled. "Laugh. I've never seen you smile for real or just laugh."

Harry looked away. "I don't at the manor, so it just followed, I guess."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged and sat down next to Draco, who pulled him over, kissing his lips softly. Harry grabbed a fistful of Draco's robes, kissing him back. But he soon pulled away, not looking at Draco.

He always did this, a part of him still afraid that he'd get hurt emotionally and mentally. But Draco never hurt him physically or ever hinted that he was messing with Harry's head. But he was still scared.

וווווווווווווו×

The next night, Draco led Harry to one of the secluded towers, climbing up the side effortlessly. He had helped Harry get over the top edge so that they were both sitting on the top, their legs swinging in the cool, early October air.

"It was always a bit depressing, going home for Christmas, " Harry told Draco. "I spend most of the holidays in my room, having the house-elf bring me food and I read. I don't want to make my father angry, so I'd stay out of the way, acting as if I wasn't there."

Draco frowned. "Then why go?"

Harry was silent, twisting his hair like he always did. "I dunno."

"I stay here. With my friends."

Harry looked at him, but didn't say anything.

וווווווווווווו×

The first Quidditch game of the year was that weekend, the third weekend of October, and Draco was excited. That is until he read that it was against Slytherin. That meant he and Harry would both be practising a lot in the upcoming days.

Theo and Blaise, who were both excited, whispered to him encouragement and he accepted it.

Over the course of a week, the Gryffindor Quidditch team worked hard, almost as hard as Slytherin, who was taking the game seriously. Harry, being stressed out of his mind, practices every spare moment he had.

He wanted to beat Gryffindor, but he was afraid to. What if Draco hated him for it? What if he called everything off and never came by his dorm?

All of these thoughts in his mind threw off his practice and he hated that the most.

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