Potter!

Stay With Me

Draco left the room so quickly that Harry knew he must have done something in his intoxicated hours that he couldn't remember. He had always been irrational and impulsive, even when sober.

He glanced over at the food Draco had left, and picked up the cup of tea, piping hot, he knew Draco must have reheated it, waiting so long for Harry to emerge from his slumber and felt a deep guilt in the pit of his stomach.

Sighing in anger at his actions, whatever they were, he made his way down the stairs. Sometimes Draco was easy to read, and that was when he was trying his hardest to hide his emotions. On a day to day basis when he wasn't making much effort, he seemed like the old Malfoy, completely empty of all feeling, but when he really wanted to hide something it showed like a big red flag waving above his head.

Although the kitchen door was closed, Harry could hear Draco sobbing his heart out. A sharp pain shot through his chest at the sound, and tears filled his eyes. Hearing the great Draco Malfoy sound so tortured was more than he could bear. He'd never imagined someone who seemed so strong and confident for all those years could break down in such a way.

Harry was frozen to the spot. What could he do? Go in and comfort the man? He knew comforting Draco didn't always go well, he tended to push people away fearing that he'd hurt them. But what else could he do? He couldn't just stand there and listen to it, he desperately wanted to make it all better for him.

Taking a deep breath, Harry entered the kitchen unnoticed. Draco was standing with his back to the door, bracing himself with his hands on the counter, his head hung low, tortured sobs still erupting from his mouth and his shoulders heaving.

"Draco..." Harry spoke, his voice coarse, his eyes still brimming with tears.

Draco's head whipped round in surprise, his face wet, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, feeling stupid immediately after.

"Do I look like I'm okay, Potter?" He straightened himself up, desperately trying to turn himself back into the confident man he was, trying not to seem broken.

Harry pretended that he wasn't hurt by the use of his surname again, "I just mean that you maybe you need someone to talk to?" He felt as though he was pushing his luck, and should've planned what he was going to say beforehand, as now his words were muddled and he was making everything worse, as usual.

Although Draco looked as though he would refuse, he let his façade go, and nodded slowly. It was only Harry. Before the war he would've never opened up to him, never in a million years, despite having a weakness for his pretty moss green eyes. He had to keep his strong appearance up, he couldn't appear weak. But things changed after the war, and Harry was now the one of the only people to be genuinely kind to him. Pushing that away would just be plainly idiotic.

Harry walked towards him cautiously and wrapped his arms around the blonde's slim waist, moving his hand to the back of his head and lightly stroking it in what he hoped was a comforting way.

Draco melted into the hug, as he often melted when Potter was around. He nestled his head onto Harry's broad shoulder and breathed in his scent, which instantly calmed his body like a drug.

"Are you going to tell me what I did last night that has upset you so much?" Harry whispered, holding Draco tightly, and fighting off the guilt of his actions that were trying to completely take over his mind. He'd felt enough guilt during the past years to know how to push it aside when he couldn't let himself break down.

Draco shook his head, his soft blonde hair brushing against Harry's jaw as he did so. He couldn't tell him what he'd done. What if he regretted it? Which he most likely did. What if he was disgusted by what he'd done? That was the most likely possibility and Draco didn't want their Christmas together ruined by some drunken actions that Harry would rather forget.

"But I did do something though?" Harry pondered, his fingers fiddling ever so slightly in Draco's hair.

He didn't say anything, he didn't even nod his head. He hoped his silence would let him move on, and that Harry would forget all about it.

"Oh, Draco." Harry took his shoulders and pulled him so they were facing each other again.

Draco avoided Harry's eyes, partly because there were still tears cascading down his cheeks, and also because he was afraid of giving all his emotions away with just one look into those emerald chasms.

"You always make yourself out to be such a mysterious person." Harry declared, his lips pursed, and watching Draco intently, "But most of the time I can read you like an open book."

Draco grimaced. He didn't mean to be so open about his feelings, in fact he hated emotions and wish he could lock his own away and throw away the key. He especially hated that Harry knew exactly what he was feeling, despite his best efforts to hide it. But at least it means he cares, he kept telling himself.

"You're not going to tell me right now though. I get that. So I'm sorry for whatever I said or did. I probably didn't mean it, and I definitely didn't mean to hurt you. Maybe you'll tell me some other time to stop the guilt eating away at me forever?" Harry chuckled, not knowing his words had punctured Draco's heart right in the centre. He didn't mean it...

Of course, Draco knew Harry didn't know what he had just said, and perhaps if he'd know what he did, he wouldn't have spoken about it so flippantly. He let a single tear roll down his cheek, still not daring to meet Harry's eyes.

"Come on, go back to bed, and when you feel better we can play exploding snap or read some books by the fire?" Harry tried to lighten the mood, and Draco realised that if he had been upset for any other reason, this statement would've cheered him up, just spending time with him cheered him up.

Harry took his hand, ironically, like he had done so many times the day before and steadied him like an injured soldier as he escorted him upstairs.

Draco laid on his and pulled the covers up to his neck, surrounding himself in the warmth. Harry smiled affectionately at him and turned to leave the room.

"Stay." Draco croaked, barely audible as he'd wrecked his voice through crying so hard.

"Hm?" Harry faced the boy, a questioning look reflected in his eyes.

"Stay with me." Draco said weakly, his silvery eyes still glistening with new tears. Still beautiful to Harry, however. People often looked beautiful when they cried, they showed their real emotions, their true selves and that was always going to be beautiful.

Blinking for a moment, Harry nodded and awkwardly sat himself on the end of the bed. Draco took the covers and threw them back, suggesting that he should get in with him.

Harry swallowed, his throat dry. Get in bed with Draco Malfoy? Despite what it sounded, he quite liked the idea deep down, but he wasn't sure why, nor would he let on.

"You want me to get in? Why on earth-?"

Draco stared straight into him, a pleading look passing into his shimmering eyes.

Without another word, Harry climbed in, giving into both their desire and pulled the covers over them. Draco immediately snuggled into him, resting his head over his heart, which was beating faster now.

Harry wound his arm around the blonde, making himself comfortable, closing his eyes. Draco's warm body radiated against him and he felt himself relax completely.

Draco slept even better than he had slept for the past few nights. Harry acted like a sleeping draft, pulling him into a dreamless slumber effortlessly. And Harry was the same, no nightmares dancing around in his mind, just undisturbed sleep.

At least it was undisturbed for a while.