Chapter 23

Class was over and the corridor was dark as Harry walked side by side with Malfoy to the Slytherin dormitory. The brunet hadn't hesitated when Malfoy invited him to his room after Charms, yet with each step that drew them closer to the green and silver dungeons, a strange feeling began to settle in Harry's chest. The feeling strengthened as Harry followed the blond into his bedroom, watching as Malfoy crossed to the bed, unclipping his robes as he did so and throwing a look over his shoulder. A single, sleek blond eyebrow quirked upwards.

"Enjoying the doorway are you, Potter?" the blond asked with a small smirk, draping the dark fabric over the back of his desk chair.

Harry stepped inside and shut the door behind him, wishing he could shove whatever this feeling was aside. As he gazed across the room to the Slytherin who sat gracefully on the edge of his bed, Harry couldn't help but muse over how easily they had slid back into old habits. As if nothing had ever changed. The previous Friday morning had been wonderful—perfect even; Harry had been sure everything was going to be alright between the two of them.

Or so he thought.

Despite knowing how much he stilled cared for the blond, how much he'd missed his company… there was still a part of Harry that was not entirely comfortable with how things had come to be. There were moments, brief although they may be, where Harry found himself battling with a sudden surge of anger and despair. And he wasn't entirely sure as to why that was.

Am I just processing what happened? Maybe the stress of school is getting to me…?

"As much as I always enjoy you staring at me, Harry, I think I would prefer to be kissing you right now."

The brunet shook himself from his thoughts, a wry grin spreading across his face as he neared the bed, loosening his school robes as Malfoy had done. "Sorry, I think Flitwick's lesson did away with my brain."

A wicked smile twisted at Draco's lips.

"Don't even start," Harry interrupted quickly, pegging the blond with a glare.

"Fine." Grey eyes dropped to the undone buttons on Harry's robes. "Then allow me to finish what you started." He tugged the black fabric from Harry's shoulders and the Gryffindor felt the material pool around his legs. His gaze, however, was locked directly on Malfoy's, who was staring at him with unhidden desire.

Long, pale fingers curled into his school tie, tugging him towards the bed until he was kneeling on the mattress betwixt Draco's thighs. The smirking male's other hand slid up Harry's chest, wrapping around the back of his neck to draw his head downwards, eyes drifting to the brunet's mouth. At the first press of Draco's lips against his, Harry allowed his eyes to fall closed, forcing himself to sink within the heat that was slowly growing within him.

I want this… Harry thought. I do—I really do…

He moved his hands to gently cup Malfoy's jaw, fingers sliding over the warm, delicate skin as the kiss deepened. He didn't protest when he felt Malfoy move him, their lips breaking their connection momentarily as Harry was lain back against the duvet, the blond swiftly positioning himself above and reclaiming the brunet's mouth. Harry's fingers delved into soft blond strands, eliciting an appreciative moan from the Slytherin who nipped at Harry's lower lip playfully. He sucked the abused flesh, running his tongue in a soothing manner before he left Harry's mouth altogether, Malfoy's lips trailed bruising kisses over the brunet's jaw and down his neck.

"I can't believe we went an entire week without this," Malfoy moaned, teeth scraping mercilessly down Harry's throat.

The brunet's breath caught at the sensation despite a niggling sense of frustration worming its way into his consciousness.

Maybe if you hadn't fucked with me we wouldn't have needed the break… he thought sourly.

The thought disappeared fleetingly as the Slytherin above him grinded his very obvious erection against Harry's hip and Harry, who had tried to swallow and gasp at the same time, ended up choking in response, earning him a delightful chuckle from Malfoy.

"Am I that good, Potter?" he murmured as he began to loosen the brunet's tie.

"Maybe I put it on for you, Malfoy," Harry retorted.

The blond chuckled again, his tongue trailing languidly along Harry's collarbone. While he marked the boy beneath him with his teeth, his hand glided with purpose down the brunet's torso, stopping only when he reached his goal. Beneath him, Harry keened as the blond gripped his hard cock through his trousers, rubbing the throbbing erection with a seductive chuckle.

"Glad to see this still works," Draco murmured against the brunet's skin.

Harry huffed. "You're such a fu—ugh." He groaned, thrusting involuntarily as the Slytherin gripped him once more. His chest heaved, pants falling from his lips and he watched, following the skilful fingers as they unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, slipping inside to stroke teasingly at his cock through the material of his boxers. He had to compel the whimper back down his throat when Malfoy unexpectedly sucked on the pulse point on his neck. Instead, he tangled his fingers back into blond strands, forcing Draco's mouth back to his own. He thrust his tongue into the Slytherin's mouth, kissing him hungrily as the pressure on his cock grew until he was panting into Draco's mouth.

"Fuck," he gasped, back arching.

"Maybe later," the blond purred, littering placating kisses down the brunet's jaw. "For now…" He began to move, shifting down the length of the Gryffindor until his mouth hovered over the straining erection poking through the gap in Potter's trousers, still restrained by red satin. He mouthed the stiff cock, enjoying the way Harry writhed and gasped beneath him. The brunet's fingers were still tangled in his hair and Draco enjoyed the way they tightened with each sucking kiss Draco applied to the sensitive area.

"P—Please, Draco," Harry moaned. "Oh, god—you're s-such a tease."

The blond chuckled in his throat, pausing in his ministrations to look up the length of the male beneath him. Harry's cheeks were flushed, eyes dark pools of arousal. Slowly, achingly slowly, Draco hooked his fingers beneath the hem of the brunet's boxers and leisurely dragged them down, allowing Harry's impatient cock to spring from its confinement. Draco eyed Potter's erection hungrily, smirking at the precome already leaking from the tip. He swiped his tongue across the head of Harry's cock, relishing in both the taste and the way the brunet gasped, hips jerking off the mattress. The whimper that he had forced down previously broke free, fingers trembling as they stroked through the blond's hair. And finally, oh god finally, Draco's warm mouth enveloped him, swallowing him right down to the root. A breath caught in Harry's throat, eyes rolling back at the delicious movement of the Slytherin's mouth up and down his erection.

Draco's own cock throbbed at the way his Gryffindor undulated on the bed. Merlin, it had only been a week and yet it felt like months. Draco hadn't realised just how accustomed he had become to the closeness he and Potter had shared—how much he had taken the time they had had together for granted. Here now, undoing the Golden Boy simply with his mouth, Draco was thankful he had not lost Harry altogether because of his foolishness.

Another whimper from Harry caused Draco's cock to twinge again. God, he was ridiculously hard just from listening to the beautiful sounds the brunet made. Reaching down, his quickly unbuttoned his own trousers, hand diving quickly beneath his boxers to grip his own erection. He moaned around Potter's cock, causing the brunet to jerk. Draco stroked himself with each bob of his head, taking Potter's erection deeper each turn. The Gryffindor was emitting delicious gasps and pleading moans, his fingers tightening in Draco's hair to the point of pain.


Merlin, I love the way he says my name… Draco thought possessively, his cock throbbing excitably in his hand. So full of need. Need for me…

The blond hollowed his cheeks as he withdrew to the tip, tongue flicking out teasingly. The fingers on his free hand skimmed lightly across the skin on the brunet's abdomen, gentle caresses that caused shivers to course through the Gryffindor. Pleads fell from his lips—so—so close…

Draco swallowed him again, his throat accepting Harry's cock readily as he buried his nose to nestle in the dark hair at the root.

He hummed and that was Harry's undoing.

With a great arch and a cry, the brunet came. Thick shoots of come poured down Draco's throat and the blond accepted it all. He swallowed greedily, his tongue swirling around the slowly softening cock as he raised his head, Harry's hands falling from his hair and onto the bedspread. With a provocative pop, the brunet's cock fell from the Slytherin's sinful mouth and onto his stomach, satisfied and sated. Draco was still working his own burning cock with his fist and he swung his gaze up to Harry's form lying so wantonly. The boy lay with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling erratically; there was something so debauched about the Gryffindor lying in his dishevelled uniform, cock only free through the gap in his trousers.

"Fuck," he hissed.

With a groan, Draco came. Sticky warmth spread through his fingers, trapped within his palm and his undergarments. Panting, the blond withdrew his now come-coated hand, casting a quick cleansing charm over both himself and Harry. He tucked Potter's now flaccid cock back into his boxers before lowering his head onto the brunet's stomach, closing his eyes. From above, Harry drew in a steadying breath, a tentative hand coming to rest on the nape of Draco's neck in a somewhat soothing manner.

As the golden warmth of their post-coital glow began to fade, a fresh sense of discomfort made an appearance. Draco's fingers were lazily stoking Harry's hip and Harry suddenly wished he would stop. The very idea that the blond could even be so at ease with him so soon after the incident baffled the dark-haired male. He had expected that the blond might have been more apologetic, careful even, in his approach to Harry. The blond had admitted how distraught he had been over the pain he had caused Harry and yet here they were, literally acting as if never had been occurred.

It made Harry feel… weird. As if there was something unfinished.

Does Draco even fully understand the pain he caused me…? Or did he just miss the intimacy…?

With a frustrated frown, the brunet worried his lip as he stared up at the dark stone ceiling. Am I just overthinking things…? Am I so ready to believe Draco would mess with me that when he did fuck up—that's it? I'm done? Because that's… that not what I want…

The strokes on the back of the blond's neck became surer; he'd missed the feel of Draco's skin.

Maybe I just need more time… Harry considered. Maybe the more time I spend with Malfoy the better I'll feel about the entire thing…

Even as the thought settled in Harry's head, the reminder that Malfoy was still stroking his hip sent another wave of annoyance coursing through him. Perhaps now was not the time to test that theory. Harry was obviously still upset about something—it might not even have anything to do with Draco! Maybe he was just tired; stressed from school. It was probably best that Harry head back to his own dormitory.

The blond inhaled deeply, his fingers stilling on Harry's skin as he lifted his head. Gazing up at the male lying so tantalising beneath him, Draco opened his mouth, an invitation to stay the night on his lips when the brunet beat him to it.

"I can't stay," Potter murmured softly, reaching to brush a lock of blond hair behind Draco's ear.

The Slytherin frowned, quirking his head. "Why not?"

A bemused smile appeared on Harry's face. "I have things I need to do."

"More important things than me?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Draco gazed at the male, noting the faint hesitance in the usually honest green eyes. Instead of the sly comments he yearned to say, Draco simply allowed a small smile to grace his lips.

"Alright," he said softly. He slid up the rest of the way to kiss the brunet gently. "Maybe some other time."

Harry only smiled in response before he was moving, shifting himself from beneath the blond. Draco leant back on his side, watching the Gryffindor as he straightened his clothes, pulled on his robes, and fetched his bag. He was sure to remove the look of concern on his face when Harry turned to say his goodbyes, the brunet flashing him an impish grin as he disappeared out the door. As soon as the wood closed with a snap, Draco's face dropped, his jaw clenching as suspicions began to make themselves known.

Seriously, you're not surprised, are you…? His subconscious hissed. That Harry could honestly forgive you that easily…?

A sigh seeped out of Draco, shaking his head bitterly as he looked up at the ceiling. I knew it had been too good to be true…

A quick knock on his door had him lifting his head. Scenarios of Harry returning, apologising for his weird behaviour filled his mind before the door opened, Pansy's familiar face appearing and immediately dashing Draco's aspirations.

"Just saw Harry leave," she stated, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively as she bounded across the room to sit on the edge of the blond's bed. "So everything is back to normal then?" She grinned.

As much as Draco wanted to grin and laugh and agree with Pansy, he found that he couldn't.

"Well?" Pansy pressed, gazing expectantly at the blond.

"I think…" Draco began, his thoughts swirling in his mind, "that as much as Harry says we're alright now… deep down I'm not entirely sure he has forgiven me."

The brunette frowned, tilting her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Harry isn't exactly the best at hiding his feelings," Draco continued. "And from what I can gather, it seems that a lot of what he was feeling when he told me he had forgiven me might have been based on cravings, rather than the honest consideration that he should have been doing."

"You think Harry is messing with you?" Pansy frowned worryingly.

Draco shook his head. "I believe he is deluding himself that he is alright with what I did. He wants to okay, he tries to be accommodating, but there are moments when it is painfully obvious that he is not happy."

"Well… what are you going to do about it then?" the brunette questioned.

The blond frowned, staring at a spot on his bedspread. What could he do…? Until Harry admitted his feelings, it was hard for Draco to understand where to even begin.

He shrugged.

"I may be overthinking it, Pans," he admitted. "I mean, you said it yourself, didn't you? Things weren't going to go immediately back to the way they had been."

Pansy felt her frown deepen. "Yes, and that is understandable. However, Harry said he forgave you. He's obviously made the decision that despite what you did, he has deemed it worthy of forgiving and forgetting. Since you're lying here rather dishevelled, I can only imagine what the two of you got up to just then. Is that not an indication of his trust in you? If he's acting strangely, perhaps he made the decision about your relationship too hastily."

Draco hummed absently in agreement.

"In any case, it appears you two have something to discuss." Pansy got to her feet, smoothing down her robes. "I'll be here if you need some advice but it will ultimately be up to you and him to fix."

Snorting, the blond rolled his eyes. "Obviously, Pansy."

The female simply smirked. She turned towards the door, crossing the carpet smoothly. "Things will be alright, Draco."

Draco watched her leave, a sigh escaping his lips. Guess we'll see.

Harry all but glared down at his laptop. As much as he wished it would, his laptop unfortunately did not hold the answers to his dilemma. Harry was torn. He wanted to see Draco. He wanted to constantly be near Draco. God, he wanted the intimacy with Draco more than anything else.

And yet.

There was a bitterness within the brunet he could not ignore. The two of them had been jubilant the day they reconciled. Everything had been like it was; no anger, no distrust. Just them. Until Harry realised just how upset he still was with the Slytherin.

And there Draco was, sharing smirks and quips, touching the brunet, speaking to him, acting as if nothing had happened. And it angered Harry. If Draco had been so torn about the entire ordeal how was it that it was so easy for him to return to acting normally? Fuck, Harry almost did not want to give Malfoy the satisfaction of their relationship returning to normal so efficiently.

"Studying all alone, Potter?"

The brunet jumped, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Oh, hey," he greeted absently. "Erm—studying?" He looked down at his laptop. "Sort off—just editing an essay."

"Indeed." Malfoy lowered himself into the chair across the desk from Harry, eyeing the boy carefully and noting the way Potter hesitated to meet his gaze. "Would you like me to look over it for you?"

"Hmm?" the brunet quirked his head, barely flicking his eyes up to Malfoy's face before they were back on the laptop screen. "No, that's alright. Thanks though."

Thin lips pressed into a straight line, grey eyes narrowing slightly. As much as Draco would have preferred to ask the brunet if everything was alright, he did not particularly wish to have that conversation in the middle of the library. There was definitely something off with the Gryffindor—that much was evident—but why couldn't Harry just be honest with him about it?

"Feel free to email it to me if you change your mind," the blond said instead.

Harry pushed a hand through his hair, offering a crooked smile as he glanced at Malfoy again. The Slytherin was staring at Harry oddly, unasked questions evident in his gaze. Harry hastily dropped his eyes back to his computer. Abruptly, Harry felt the need to leave. He wasn't sure what it was but he felt crowded by the blond all of a sudden, and really, really was not prepared to discuss whatever it was Harry was feeling about this entire situation. God, he hardly knew what was wrong himself. Reaching forward, Harry lowered his laptop screen, a faint frown on his face as he stared at the silver sheen, so reminiscent of Draco's eyes. He stroked the smooth plastic distractedly as he reached for his bag, plonking it onto the table.

The Slytherin frowned. "You're leaving?"

"I promised Ron we'd start our Charms homework together," the Gryffindor replied, hurriedly shoving his laptop and books into his bag. He paused briefly. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Alright…" the blond conceded slowly, a faint frown tugging at his brow. One moment Harry doesn't want to be near me, the next he's making plans to get together…?

"I'll come by around eight," Harry concluded, buckling his bag closed.

"You'll stay?" Draco found himself asking.

The brunet seemed to mull the question for a moment, before he gave the blond a gentle smile. "Yeah," he answered.

His eyebrows tugged together in a faint frown as Draco woke to an empty bed. He stretched his hand across the mattress in search for Harry's usual warm body but found empty sheets.

That were cold.

Blinking blearily, Draco peered drowsily around the room, wondering if Harry was in the bathroom. The door was ajar and the room dark, indicating that the brunet had not sneaked off for an early shower.

What the hell…?

Pale hands rubbed at his face as Draco sat up, duvet pooling in his lap. Had Potter seriously taken off without so much as a goodbye or morning hand-job? Okay, well, maybe not necessarily a hand-job per say, but a good-fucking-morning was usually in their a.m. ritual; it was not like the brunet to dine-and-dash as it were.

What the fuck is he playing out? Draco thought grouchily, fumbling for his wand to cast a tempus.


"Is he for real?" The blond sneered at the empty space beside him.

This was getting ridiculous. Whatever it was that Draco had done to annoy Potter it was high time the brunet faced the problem and dealt with it. As it were, the hole that Potter was digging himself in was getting deeper, and Draco was beginning to consider leaving him in it.

With a groan, Draco thumped his head back against his pillow, rubbing his eyes.

Calm the fuck down, you twat… his subconscious stated bossily. You're tired and overreacting. Potter may have a very good reason for leaving as early as he did without so much as a goodbye…

Draco snorted. Sometimes he wondered whether or not his subconscious was being helpful or just deepening his insecurity. In any case, there was no point in dwelling in upsetting assumptions. Despite his suspicions, until the truth was revealed, the blond would not have a clear indication as to the intentions behind Potter's latest actions.

But it was time to find out.

By lunch time, Draco knew without a doubt that Harry was avoiding him.


Glancing in annoyance across the Great Hall, the blond noted the way the brunet had placed himself with his back to the Slytherin table, giving him the perfect excuse not to meet Draco's gaze. It was such a small thing but Draco knew that Harry had positioned himself in such a manner on purpose. Perhaps he thought Draco wouldn't notice—yet how could Draco not when he had become so accustomed to staring across the hall at the familiar pair of green eyes for the past seven years?

This ends tonight… Draco thought vehemently.

"I need to talk to you," Malfoy stated.

Harry glanced longingly up the staircase. He had hoped to escape to his dormitory before Malfoy hunted him down. No such luck.

"Now?" Harry asked wearily.

"Now." The blond gestured towards the dungeons in an obvious indication for Harry to follow him.

Clenching his jaw, Harry fell into step beside the Slytherin. He remained silent the entire journey to the blond's bedroom. He hovered uncertainly just inside the doorway, frowning at the blond who stalked across the room in an obviously aggravated manner, tossing his robes inelegantly onto his bed as if they were the source of his frustration.

Harry released an irritated sigh. "Look, I've got a bunch of assignments I need to finish, I really don't have time—"

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, knock it off," Draco snapped, his anger getting the better of him.

Potter gaped at him. "What's got your knickers in a knot?" he replied.


"Me? What the hell have I done?"

The Slytherin snorted, shaking his head in disbelief at the poor manner in which Harry attempted to hide his contrition.

"You've been acting like a complete arse, Harry," Draco replied. "I don't know what the hell I've done to deserve this treatment but it stops now. I am not going to stand around and allow you to continue fucking with me."

Potter spluttered indignantly. "I'm not fucking with you!" he protested, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Indeed? So that hasn't been you avoiding me for the past two days. Or you ducking out early with some ridiculous excuse every time we've been together. Not to mention the absurd way in which you have been avoiding even looking at me whenever we're within close proximity?"

"Would you just tell me what you want already?" Potter questioned impatiently, jerking his arms into a defensive fold against his chest.

"I want you to be honest with me!" Draco shouted. "And honest with yourself!" He stared at the brunet, frustration washing through him at the confusion growing on Harry's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Gryffindor replied obtusely.

"You're not happy," Draco snapped, "and as much as you try to convince yourself otherwise, you haven't truly forgiven me for lying to you. Stop acting like an ignorant Gryffindor for once!"

He could only stare in brewing irritation at the male before him. Potter continued to gaze at Draco as if he'd gone mad, his usually honest green eyes darkened with defiance. Draco could feel his patience slipping, and he allowed a derisive sneer to curl at his lips.

"Deny all you want, Harry," the blond stated, "but I can read you better than anyone and you fucking know it. Stop behaving like a repugnant child."

The dark-haired male swallowed, the fight slowly draining out of his stiff posture. Draco watched with a small sliver of satisfaction as his words hit their mark; it was time for Harry to face the truth.

"I—" Harry's face suddenly fell, his arms folding defensively as he seemed to shrink in on himself. "I had hoped that the more time I spent with you… pretending everything was alright… that I would begin to believe it."

The blond released a frustrated sigh. "You can't just force something like this, Harry. You're not only hurting yourself but you're hurting me. I was willing to wait. I knew very well how much I had hurt you and I wanted to give you enough time until you were ready to make a decision. And there you were, barely a week later, saying you missed me… that you had forgiven me."

"I thought I had," Harry murmured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I thought everything was going to be fine."

"Well guess what, it's not." The blond's stare was cold, tone becoming dismissive. "I'm beginning to think this entire—" he swept a derisive hand between them dismissively, "—relationship was a mistake."

"You're right," the brunet murmured softly, glancing at the ground.

"I—what?" Draco stilled, his eyes on Harry. The room suddenly seemed impossibly silent. "You… agree that this was a mistake?"

"No!" Harry replied quickly, head snapping up to look at the blond. "No, you were right about me being ignorant… about me trying to force this and hurting you. I think…" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, wincing as his gaze dropped back to the carpet. "I think, subconsciously, I wanted to hurt you as you had hurt me." The brunet suddenly flinched, agony swimming in his green eyes as he stared at Draco, his face paling at his own admission. "But that—fuck—that's not—" Harry stumbled over his words, his stomach rolling unpleasantly. "God that makes me sound like such a vindictive bastard." He ran a trembling hand through his hair, turning away from the blond. "Look, I'm sorry—I'll just—"

His hand fumbled with the doorknob, trembling fingers wrapping around the cool metal and twisting. Before Harry could leave however, he felt himself being spun around, his back shoved against the wood of the door as cool, hard grey eyes bored down at him. He stared meekly in response, unable to read the expressionless mask on Malfoy's face as his heart thudded painfully in his chest. The blond's hands were gripping his shoulders, forcibly holding him order to prevent Harry from fleeing. And, oh god, Harry so much wanted to run. After everything that had happened between them, he knew it was going to break his heart to have the blond be disgusted in his actions. But how could Harry blame him? Draco had every right to detest him…

Slowly, surprisingly, Draco's face began to relax, his gaze acquiring a searching glimmer as he stared at the brunet, eyebrow quirking slightly.

"You're so Gryffindor that even the Slytherin-tendencies you display at times get buried beneath ridiculous lion-chivalry," the taller-man stated derisively.

Harry felt a frown tug at his brow, words failing him. What on earth was Draco talking about?

A sigh seeped out of the blond, his hand moving from the grip he'd maintained on Harry's shoulder to his cheek. Cautious hope trickled into the brunet's chest at the familiar touch of Malfoy's fingers, the strokes on his skin soothing his panic.

"Any Slytherin would have done exactly what you admitted, Harry," Draco said. "Except they would have done it on purpose—and with a severe lack of honesty. We don't handle betrayal well and when given the chance, of course we'd return the favour. I don't blame you in the least for feeling the way you do."

Harry's frown deepened. "Doesn't that completely disregard the entire point of forgiveness?" he murmured. "I said I forgave you… and yet I subconsciously wanted to hurt you. You should loathe me."

Malfoy inclined his head in understanding. "To be fair, I shouldn't have completely relied on your Gryffindor naivety," he replied with a wry smile. "Getting hurt by someone you care about is painful and, commonly, unforgivable. I broke your trust and I hurt you. Imagine my surprise when but a week later you had 'forgiven' me? Instead of suggesting for you to honestly consider your feelings towards me, knowing full well it had not been long enough, I accepted your word because I missed you. We both wanted things to be alright again without the work that should have come with it."

"That doesn't make what I did any better." The brunet swallowed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Fuck, Draco, you should hate me."

"Why? I know the type of person you are, Harry. I should have realised your feelings sooner rather than delude myself that you could possibly be alright with what I did," the Slytherin explained patiently. "I can't say I wouldn't have done the same if I had been in your position."

The brunet flinched slightly at his words. "Why are relationships so fucking hard?" he muttered, staring fixatedly at the floor. His question elicited a chuckle from the blond and Harry lifted his head, a small ironic smile appearing on his lips.

"It's probably because it's us," Draco replied, tilting his head as he pondered the notion. "We went the better part of seven years hating one another."

Harry offered a small smile. "I don't hate you anymore," he commented.

The Slytherin grinned. "And I believe my declaration of love may have been evidence enough for no longer hating you either."

A chuckle slipped from Harry's lips. "Yeah… that'd just about do it." He gazed up at Malfoy with careful exposed eyes. He was tired of hiding things. He was tired of pretending. "I really am sorry, Draco, for being such an arse these past couple of days. I should have been honest with you from the get go."

"I'm sorry as well," Draco murmured, tracing gentle fingers along Harry's jawline. They curled around the nape of his neck, brushing through the dark curls. "We should have spoken about what happened. I shouldn't have ignored what I did in favour of returning to what he had. It was selfish—"

"On both our counts," Harry interjected, leaning absently into the blond's touch. "I wanted things to be back to normal just as much as you did."

"We're quite a pair." Draco smirked.

Harry's heart thudded. "Are we?" he asked, voice laced with uncertainty. "…a pair?"

The blond's smirk widened. "I'm game if you are, Potter."

Tension seemed to drain out of the dark-haired male, his green eyes brightening at the hint of a challenge in the Slytherin's tone.

"Bring it, Malfoy."

Draco kissed him so deeply Harry saw stars. The blond's hands were clenched into Harry's skin tight enough to bruise—and Harry loved every moment of it. He accepted Draco's probing tongue without a second thought, his own fingers knotting into the blond's shirt.

Looking back, everything about Harry's actions had been so stupid. He should have known that there would be more to this relationship stuff than just fooling around. At least Draco had enough gall to actually call him out on his shit.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.