Harry/Draco - Too Little Too Late - One Shot - PG-13
Title: Too Little Too Late
Author: screaminglungs
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron
Word Count: 4116
Summary: Sometiems you don't appreciate what you have until its threatened to be taken away.
Author's Note: Beta read by the lovely kcstories
Spoilers for DH if you squint
”You don’t even look at me anymore. What did I do? Did I say too much? Was it saying ‘I love you’ that made you take a step back?” Harry asked urgently. His eyes were shiny and his hands were shaking as he placed his coffee cup on the coaster next to his plate.
Draco didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look up.
“I’ll take it back, Draco, just please, look at me, I’ll try not to love you if it’s easier for you.” Harry’s voice broke. They had been together for almost year, a relationship born out of angry words after they’d faced each other at a Quidditch match. It was as a result of mutual lust and hatred combined. Harry hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. He hadn’t meant it. He was sorry.
Draco didn’t say anything as he folded the Daily Prophet in half and stood from the table. He didn’t look up as he stepped away from his chair and buttoned his jacket, ready to leave Harry’s flat.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered as he walked past Harry whose fingers trembled as he reached for his spoon.
“What do you mean, he’s not awake? It’s just a Quidditch injury; they said so when they called me!” Draco shouted furiously as the healer briefed him on Harry’s condition. They stood in one of the many white halls of St. Mungo’s, outside the room Harry was being treated in.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, but Harry fell from a great height and because of the spells set up around the stadium to prevent match fixing, there wasn’t much to cushion his fall.”
Draco felt like he’d stopped breathing.
“He’s got every potion we use coursing through his body as we speak. They’re doing what they do to fix the body, but the process takes time. I expect him to be awake in a day or two, but we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Draco stared at the healer as if she’d grown an extra head. “Wait and see? A day or two? Are you joking?” Draco snarled.
“I’m afraid at the moment that’s all the information I can give you.” She smiled apologetically before walking back into Harry’s room and leaving the blonde alone in the hall.
They expected him to wake up? Expected? What the hell did that mean? Surely there was more they could be doing for him, instead of just staring at him stupidly in the vain hope that he’d wake up?
Draco suddenly felt as if the white walls were closing in on him and he had to take a seat in a nearby chair.
He had been at practice when he was called off the pitch because of an emergency floo call from the healer at the Canons’. He had no idea that Harry had made him his emergency contact person, but thankful for the information, he had hurried to St. Mungo’s as quickly as he could, the conversation they’d had that morning fresh in his mind. He had thought all day about what Harry had said, about being in love with him, and he was going to do something about it that night. He was going to make it romantic. He was going to let Harry make love to him. He was going to make things different. Now it looked like he might not have the chance.
A few minutes later Harry’s healer came out of his room.
“Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco looked up at her with bleary eyes. He felt sick and didn’t feel much like talking, unless she was going to tell him that Harry was going to be alright.
“Yes?”
“You can go and sit with him if you like. There’s a chair next to his bed and it’s more comfortable than the ones out here.”
Draco’s mouth twitched as he attempted to smile gratefully at her as she walked past him and down the corridor. He watched her go before he walked into Harry’s room.
Harry’s room was mostly dark with only the faint glow of candles on the walls and a status orb, much like a crystal ball, sitting next to his bed with a glass of water. It was glowing blue, which meant the patient was stable.
Draco ran a hand through his chin length blonde hair, making it uncharacteristically dishevelled. He walked towards the bed and examined Harry’s face. His face was pale. There was a slowly fading cut along his right cheek and a he looked boyish without his glasses on. He looked much like he would every morning, just with more bruises.
Draco sighed heavily. He slumped into the chair at the left of Harry’s bed and rested his head against the high back. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.
This could not be happening. This was not fair and yet it seemed so very ironic. Things never worked out for Draco Malfoy. Why had he been stupid enough to believe that they would now? Now that he had finally decided to let Harry in, it was obvious he would have Harry snatched away from him.
*
Draco woke up what felt like hours later. It was dark outside, but considering it was November that didn’t necessarily mean it was particularly late.
It took him a moment to realise that he and Harry weren’t alone in the room, and he was startled at the sight of Ron Weasley sitting opposite him. Draco didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if Harry had ever told his friends about them fucking.
“Harry told me he had been seeing someone. I thought it was someone on his team, but I’m guessing since the healer said you’ve been here for three hours, it’s you.” Ron’s face was an impassive mask and Draco couldn’t tell if he was safe sitting there; the redhead’s temper was legendary.
“Yeah, I guess you could say we’ve been seeing each other.” Draco’s voice was sleep roughened and he ineffectively attempted to flatten down his hair.
“Now that I know it’s you, it makes perfect sense that he’s been so miserable lately.”
Draco met Ron’s eye and felt his heart rate speed up a little. He knew at the back of his mind that Harry had been unhappy recently, but he hadn’t let himself think about it. They’d still fucked almost every night as usual. He’d still partaken in their usual sarcastic banter and he had chosen to ignore any of the indications there might have been that Harry was unhappy.
“I haven’t gone out of my way to make him feel that way.” Draco sighed but looked away from Ron’s gaze.
“From what I understand, you haven’t gone out of your way to do anything for him.” Ron sighed and stared at his friend.
“I know I’ve made some mistakes,” Draco replied feebly, his voice soft.
“That’s an understatement.” Ron snorted and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“If you know so much about our relationship-” the term sounded foreign to Draco, “-then how come you didn’t know who it was Harry was seeing?”
“He wouldn’t tell me, said that until he thought it was going to work out, there was no point in introducing us. That was six months ago, so I’m guessing you haven’t worked much out,” Ron accused.
“I was going to talk to him tonight. He told me he loved me this morning, and I didn’t say it back. I left, and now this has happened and I don’t quite know what to do. I just wish he’d wake up and we could go back to his flat and I’d say everything I should have said this morning.” Draco sounded vaguely desperate.
“Typical Draco Malfoy, too little too late,” Ron growled.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s how you’ve always been, too scared to actually do or say anything that has any meaning. Even during the war. You didn’t join our side until way in, until you knew our side would win. You were quite happy to watch us do all the work while you hid at your parents’ estate,” Ron spat.
“I did the right thing in the end,” Draco replied indignantly.
“Like I said, too little too late,” Ron shot back haughtily and stared off into space, avoiding Draco’s gaze.
“How’s your wife?” Draco asked softly, several minutes later.
“She’s fine; she’s in Italy for a few days on a business trip,” Ron replied softly, not quite able to keep the fond smile from his face at the mention of Hermione.
“That’s nice for her. Harry told me your son is almost two now.” Draco was surprised at how quickly Ron’s stern face lit up.
“Yeah, Edward’s fantastic. He’s at my Mum and Dad’s while I’m here.” Ron smiled warmly.
“Harry’s always talking about him, about all of you.”
Draco examined Harry’s prone face, a certain amount of regret in his voice. He had never really gone out of his way to talk about the people in Harry’s life. Just another item on the list of things he was deeply regretting at that moment.
“And there was me thinking all you did was fuck,” Ron answered dryly.
“There is some time in between, during which he usually won’t shut up.” Draco’s lips quirked as he met Ron’s gaze; the redhead, too was smiling.
“You make him nervous, then,” Ron concluded with a rueful smile at Harry.
“How do you figure that?”
“Harry always talks a lot when he’s nervous,” Ron explained and Draco sighed softly.
“I never meant to do this, you know,” Draco said quietly and Ron stared at him blankly, obviously waiting for some sort of elaboration upon the sentence.
“To get involved. It was meant as just a quick shag after Quidditch; a release of all that tension that builds up during a game, you know?”
Ron nodded. It had been years since he’d been in a match, but he could still remember the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
“But then it just got more regular. I’d floo to his place after practice. We’d fuck. He’d order Chinese food from some Muggle place down the road and we’d shag some more before I went home.” Draco stared at Harry once more. “It was six months before I realised I was spending more than half my week sleeping there and I got so freaked out about it, I stopped going for a while.” Draco sighed.
“I remember that. That’s how I knew he was seeing someone; he was utterly miserable.”
Draco winced. “Anyway, I knew I had to do something more about it, but I didn’t know how he felt. It wasn’t all me, you know.” Draco looked pointedly at Ron. “He never said he wanted anything different either, so don’t go looking at me like this was something I did to him,” Draco snapped when Ron raised an eyebrow.
“Then a week or so ago, he said it. We’d been shagging and I guess it just came out in the heat of the moment. I couldn’t help it; I froze. I didn’t know what to say. Did I say it back? Not even my parents ever told me they loved me. I had literally never heard that phrase used in regards to me before, and I had no fucking clue what one says when the situation arises.” Draco ran his hand through his hair, which was currently rivalling Harry’s usual wild mop.
“So we finished and I left and didn’t come back for a few days, and when I did, it wasn’t the same. There was this unspoken question between us now; did I love him? Or didn’t I love him? I didn’t know what to do or say and this morning it all sort of came to a head.”
Draco went on to explain to Ron what Harry had said that morning, feeling more and more mortified as he explained the situation. How could he have just walked out like that, without saying a single word or at least acknowledging what Harry had said?
“And you just walked out?” Ron looked at him as if he were the daftest person he had ever seen.
“I needed time to think,” Draco replied heatedly.
“It sounds like you’ve had nothing but time.” Ron snorted indignantly as he leaned back into his chair.
“I know, I know, and I wish I could be the kind of person Harry needs. I haven’t reacted well to any of this relationship stuff, but I guess that’s because it’s caught me completely off-guard.” Draco sighed. He knew he was making excuses, but what else could he say?
“Well, don’t you think it’s time you started acting like you want to be in his life? The way he used to describe your relationship, even when I didn’t know who you were, it always sounded like he thought he was twisting your arm. He never wanted to upset you, in case you decided you didn’t want to be there anymore.” Ron met Draco’s eye and the blonde man couldn’t help but blush. Harry had always done everything he could to make Draco happy. Draco couldn’t believe how much he had taken advantage of Harry’s generosity.
“Yes.” Draco sighed and leaning back in his chair, he stared resolutely and wished that the scrawny little bastard would wake up.
Ron left an hour later. He had to get home to Edward, but he said he would come by in the morning and check on his friend. He placed a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder and when their eyes met, Draco knew Ron understood. He wasn’t perfect but he wasn’t going anywhere and he was going to make it up to Harry.
It was on the third day of Harry’s sleeping hospital stay that Draco ambled in, chewing a large chunk off the sandwich in his hand, and he found Harry awake. He stood in the doorway when he met Harry’s gaze, not sure what to do or say, or if Harry even recognised him; his stare was so blank.
“Are you feeling alright?” Draco managed around the mouthful of bread and cheese.
“What are you doing here?” Harry’s voice was croaky from lack of use and he tried to sit up in bed, wincing when his underused muscles cramped.
“Let me help you.” Draco discarded the sandwich next to Harry’s bed and attempted to help Harry sit up properly, only to be pushed away.
“I don’t need your help, so you can leave now. You can go away, knowing I’m not dead. You don’t need to feel guilty,” Harry growled and panted with the effort it took to move with cramped muscles and a sore chest.
Draco ignored how much those words hurt. He knew he deserved them and anything else Harry felt like dishing out.
“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’m here to look after you.” Draco tried to infuse the sentence with as much sincerity as he could, but he saw a flicker of suspicion across Harry’s face.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m not going to ask you for anything anymore. I don’t want to be a burden.” Harry sighed as he finally settled back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling.
Draco was just about to launch into a heartfelt speech about how much he wanted to do anything Harry asked when a whirl of frizzy brown hair flew into the room.
“Harry, are you alright? I got home from Italy late last night and Ron told me what happened. You’ve been in a coma for three days!” Hermione Granger launched into a rant, and Harry winced. It sounded like she was scolding him for having been in a coma, as if he’d had any control over waking up.
“Two days, actually. I woke up yesterday afternoon.” Harry sighed and smiled warmly at Hermione.
“What do you mean, you woke up yesterday afternoon? Why didn’t anyone call me at practice?”
Hermione jumped at the sound of Draco’s livid voice.
He had avoided practice the day after Harry’s accident, but with a coach threatening to fire him if he didn’t prepare for the Falcons’ next game and medical staff who were threatening to put him in a coma if he didn’t stop being so rude, he’d had little choice but to escape for the evening, as long as they promised to call if anything happened. When he’d stopped by later that night after a long and arduous practice, Harry had been sleeping and there hadn’t been any staff members around to harass about his lack of progress.
“Because I told them not to! I didn’t want you here, so just go!” Harry snapped and Draco stared at him blankly. Harry really had given up on him; he truly didn’t want him around.
“I’m sorry.” Draco’s voice cracked and he avoided staring at Harry, who looked so different to the unhappy, defeated man he had been sharing a bed with recently. There was a fire in Harry’s eyes again. It seemed his brush with death had made him re-evaluate his life; obviously, he wouldn’t be wasting any more time on Draco.
“So am I. Sorry we ever started shagging! Like I said before, you can leave now; you don’t need to worry about me anymore! I’m not going to bother you with foolish sentiments of love,” Harry spat and Draco could see he was positively seething, and shaking with the effort to not blast Draco out of the room.
“Okay.” Draco picked up a scarf he had left on a chair next to Harry’s bed, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.
“Sorry to rush off, Granger, terribly impolite of me. Give my best to Ron, tell him I said ‘thank you very much’ for the advice the other night.” Draco nodded at Hermione, who looked completely flabbergasted at his politeness, before he turned to Harry, who looked equally shocked.
“Goodbye, Harry. I really am sorry.” Draco hated the way his voice wavered. He was still a Malfoy and a Malfoy never betrayed his emotions. Draco chanced one glance at Harry and winced at the shuttered look on his face before fleeing from the room.
*
“I can’t believe you’ve been shagging Malfoy!” Hermione admonished later that day as she helped Harry settle onto his sofa while Ron carried in a tray of teacups.
“He hasn’t been shagging Malfoy, Hermione. They’re in love.” Ron sighed, like he was explaining something to a small child.
“Hardly.” Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling.
“Not ‘hardly’. Harry, he was frantic with worry the night you were hurt! We talked for a long time about how much he cared about you, but didn’t know how to show it. He seemed to envy you. You were so easy with the words that terrified him and he was just afraid he-“
“Ron, I don’t need you to make excuses for him. If he loved me he would have said it or showed it, but for months and months, I waited and he didn’t do anything. I told him how I felt, I was honest with him, but he didn’t respect me enough to so much as acknowledge it!” Harry snapped and glared at Ron.
“He’s not like us, Harry. He’s not like you! He doesn’t have a direct line from his heart to his mouth. He told me he has never said those words or heard them said to him! Since you became a wizard, you’ve had no doubt about how much you were loved by those around you. Imagine what that must have been like for him?” Ron sat on the armchair opposite him and glared back at Harry.
“Since when have you been Malfoy’s biggest advocate, Ron? You hate him!”
“No, Harry. Hate is such a strong word. I think he’s a pompous prick, but after listening to him tell me how much he loved you, and how he was sick with worry over you and how he wished he could wind the clock back and change everything he had done, I can’t help but respect him a little.”
Harry stared at his friend for a moment, unsure if he was truly hearing what Ron was saying.
“He really said that?” Harry’s voice cracked.
“That and more. Harry, why would I be talking up Draco Malfoy if it weren’t true?” Ron stared resolutely at his friend, letting him know that he was absolutely serious.
“I need to see him!” Harry struggled to get up from the sofa to the dismay of Hermione, but Harry saw the way Ron smirked.
“Hermione, let him go. He’s not going to listen. You know Harry won’t listen when he has something in his head.” Ron sounded far too amused and Hermione had to admonish him, giving Harry time to escape.
“Harry Potter! You’re barely out of hospital and the doctor wasn’t happy with that! I promised you wouldn’t move from the sofa!”
“Hermione, I have to see him. I promise I’ll rest. If he doesn’t want to see me then I’ll be back in no time!” Harry protested hurriedly as he backed out of the room, looking rather ridiculous in his pyjamas as he wrapped a scarf around his neck and slipped his feet into his trainers.
Before she could say another word, he Apparated away.
Harry found himself outside Draco’s flat and immediately knocked on the blonde’s door. It took a while for Draco to appear and when he did, the surprise at finding Harry standing there was written all over his face.
“Are you going to let me in? It’s November and I’ve just gotten out of hospital after all.” Harry laughed nervously, trying to break the awkward silence.
“Of course, please come in.” Draco stepped back and let Harry enter his flat. Harry walked into the living room he had spent very little time in, and turned back to Draco who closed the front door.
“What are you doing here? You should be resting,” Draco asked softly, trying desperately not to stare at Harry, who instead of looking sickly looked gorgeous. He was flushed and had a head full of gloriously tousled hair. He looked much like he did after they’d fucked.
“I needed to see you, to tell you how sorry I am about this morning. I shouldn’t have told you to leave, especially after you’d been there since the accident.” Harry wrung his hands together and sighed nervously.
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing I didn’t deserve, I’m sure.” Draco smiled at Harry, and it almost looked genuine.
“But then I talked to Ron and I don’t think you did deserve it.”
Draco blushed. “What did he say?”
“He said you told him you loved me.”
Draco blushed even harder. “And you believe him?”
“Ron has no reason to lie to me, but now I want the truth from you.” Harry stared at him defiantly.
“I thought I’d lost you the other day when I left. Whether you’d had the accident or not, I figured I’d lost you anyway, but I was going to fight. I was going to come home after practice and beg if I had to, and then the Canons called and my heart stopped, Harry.”
Draco was shaking as he stared at Harry and the former Gryffindor could see the dismay Draco had felt written across the blonde’s face, and he couldn’t help but rush forward to clutch at the slighter man.
“I do love you, Harry. I’m sorry I never showed it. I’m sorry it’s not easy for me to say, but I’ll try because I never again want to leave you wondering how I feel about you. I want you to always know, always,” Draco whispered frantically as he clutched tightly back at Harry, only pulling away when Harry winced at the pain around his ribs.
“Shit Harry! You’re still in pain!” Draco glared at Harry as he carefully pushed him away and held him at arms length.
“I had to see you,” Harry answered sheepishly and grinned at Draco who frowned at him.
“Let’s get you home!”
“Only if you’ll come with me.”
Draco smiled softly at Harry and pulled him closer once more, wrapping his arms around him gently so as not hurt Harry’s already bruised ribs.
“I love you, Draco,” Harry whispered against the blonde’s neck.
“I love you too.” Draco’s voice wavered but Harry tipped his chin upwards and positively beamed at him. Draco grinned back and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“Let’s go home.” Harry sighed and kissed Draco back soundly.
Author: screaminglungs
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron
Word Count: 4116
Summary: Sometiems you don't appreciate what you have until its threatened to be taken away.
Author's Note: Beta read by the lovely kcstories
Spoilers for DH if you squint
”You don’t even look at me anymore. What did I do? Did I say too much? Was it saying ‘I love you’ that made you take a step back?” Harry asked urgently. His eyes were shiny and his hands were shaking as he placed his coffee cup on the coaster next to his plate.
Draco didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look up.
“I’ll take it back, Draco, just please, look at me, I’ll try not to love you if it’s easier for you.” Harry’s voice broke. They had been together for almost year, a relationship born out of angry words after they’d faced each other at a Quidditch match. It was as a result of mutual lust and hatred combined. Harry hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. He hadn’t meant it. He was sorry.
Draco didn’t say anything as he folded the Daily Prophet in half and stood from the table. He didn’t look up as he stepped away from his chair and buttoned his jacket, ready to leave Harry’s flat.
“I’ll see you later,” he whispered as he walked past Harry whose fingers trembled as he reached for his spoon.
“What do you mean, he’s not awake? It’s just a Quidditch injury; they said so when they called me!” Draco shouted furiously as the healer briefed him on Harry’s condition. They stood in one of the many white halls of St. Mungo’s, outside the room Harry was being treated in.
“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, but Harry fell from a great height and because of the spells set up around the stadium to prevent match fixing, there wasn’t much to cushion his fall.”
Draco felt like he’d stopped breathing.
“He’s got every potion we use coursing through his body as we speak. They’re doing what they do to fix the body, but the process takes time. I expect him to be awake in a day or two, but we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Draco stared at the healer as if she’d grown an extra head. “Wait and see? A day or two? Are you joking?” Draco snarled.
“I’m afraid at the moment that’s all the information I can give you.” She smiled apologetically before walking back into Harry’s room and leaving the blonde alone in the hall.
They expected him to wake up? Expected? What the hell did that mean? Surely there was more they could be doing for him, instead of just staring at him stupidly in the vain hope that he’d wake up?
Draco suddenly felt as if the white walls were closing in on him and he had to take a seat in a nearby chair.
He had been at practice when he was called off the pitch because of an emergency floo call from the healer at the Canons’. He had no idea that Harry had made him his emergency contact person, but thankful for the information, he had hurried to St. Mungo’s as quickly as he could, the conversation they’d had that morning fresh in his mind. He had thought all day about what Harry had said, about being in love with him, and he was going to do something about it that night. He was going to make it romantic. He was going to let Harry make love to him. He was going to make things different. Now it looked like he might not have the chance.
A few minutes later Harry’s healer came out of his room.
“Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco looked up at her with bleary eyes. He felt sick and didn’t feel much like talking, unless she was going to tell him that Harry was going to be alright.
“Yes?”
“You can go and sit with him if you like. There’s a chair next to his bed and it’s more comfortable than the ones out here.”
Draco’s mouth twitched as he attempted to smile gratefully at her as she walked past him and down the corridor. He watched her go before he walked into Harry’s room.
Harry’s room was mostly dark with only the faint glow of candles on the walls and a status orb, much like a crystal ball, sitting next to his bed with a glass of water. It was glowing blue, which meant the patient was stable.
Draco ran a hand through his chin length blonde hair, making it uncharacteristically dishevelled. He walked towards the bed and examined Harry’s face. His face was pale. There was a slowly fading cut along his right cheek and a he looked boyish without his glasses on. He looked much like he would every morning, just with more bruises.
Draco sighed heavily. He slumped into the chair at the left of Harry’s bed and rested his head against the high back. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing.
This could not be happening. This was not fair and yet it seemed so very ironic. Things never worked out for Draco Malfoy. Why had he been stupid enough to believe that they would now? Now that he had finally decided to let Harry in, it was obvious he would have Harry snatched away from him.
*
Draco woke up what felt like hours later. It was dark outside, but considering it was November that didn’t necessarily mean it was particularly late.
It took him a moment to realise that he and Harry weren’t alone in the room, and he was startled at the sight of Ron Weasley sitting opposite him. Draco didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if Harry had ever told his friends about them fucking.
“Harry told me he had been seeing someone. I thought it was someone on his team, but I’m guessing since the healer said you’ve been here for three hours, it’s you.” Ron’s face was an impassive mask and Draco couldn’t tell if he was safe sitting there; the redhead’s temper was legendary.
“Yeah, I guess you could say we’ve been seeing each other.” Draco’s voice was sleep roughened and he ineffectively attempted to flatten down his hair.
“Now that I know it’s you, it makes perfect sense that he’s been so miserable lately.”
Draco met Ron’s eye and felt his heart rate speed up a little. He knew at the back of his mind that Harry had been unhappy recently, but he hadn’t let himself think about it. They’d still fucked almost every night as usual. He’d still partaken in their usual sarcastic banter and he had chosen to ignore any of the indications there might have been that Harry was unhappy.
“I haven’t gone out of my way to make him feel that way.” Draco sighed but looked away from Ron’s gaze.
“From what I understand, you haven’t gone out of your way to do anything for him.” Ron sighed and stared at his friend.
“I know I’ve made some mistakes,” Draco replied feebly, his voice soft.
“That’s an understatement.” Ron snorted and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“If you know so much about our relationship-” the term sounded foreign to Draco, “-then how come you didn’t know who it was Harry was seeing?”
“He wouldn’t tell me, said that until he thought it was going to work out, there was no point in introducing us. That was six months ago, so I’m guessing you haven’t worked much out,” Ron accused.
“I was going to talk to him tonight. He told me he loved me this morning, and I didn’t say it back. I left, and now this has happened and I don’t quite know what to do. I just wish he’d wake up and we could go back to his flat and I’d say everything I should have said this morning.” Draco sounded vaguely desperate.
“Typical Draco Malfoy, too little too late,” Ron growled.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It’s how you’ve always been, too scared to actually do or say anything that has any meaning. Even during the war. You didn’t join our side until way in, until you knew our side would win. You were quite happy to watch us do all the work while you hid at your parents’ estate,” Ron spat.
“I did the right thing in the end,” Draco replied indignantly.
“Like I said, too little too late,” Ron shot back haughtily and stared off into space, avoiding Draco’s gaze.
“How’s your wife?” Draco asked softly, several minutes later.
“She’s fine; she’s in Italy for a few days on a business trip,” Ron replied softly, not quite able to keep the fond smile from his face at the mention of Hermione.
“That’s nice for her. Harry told me your son is almost two now.” Draco was surprised at how quickly Ron’s stern face lit up.
“Yeah, Edward’s fantastic. He’s at my Mum and Dad’s while I’m here.” Ron smiled warmly.
“Harry’s always talking about him, about all of you.”
Draco examined Harry’s prone face, a certain amount of regret in his voice. He had never really gone out of his way to talk about the people in Harry’s life. Just another item on the list of things he was deeply regretting at that moment.
“And there was me thinking all you did was fuck,” Ron answered dryly.
“There is some time in between, during which he usually won’t shut up.” Draco’s lips quirked as he met Ron’s gaze; the redhead, too was smiling.
“You make him nervous, then,” Ron concluded with a rueful smile at Harry.
“How do you figure that?”
“Harry always talks a lot when he’s nervous,” Ron explained and Draco sighed softly.
“I never meant to do this, you know,” Draco said quietly and Ron stared at him blankly, obviously waiting for some sort of elaboration upon the sentence.
“To get involved. It was meant as just a quick shag after Quidditch; a release of all that tension that builds up during a game, you know?”
Ron nodded. It had been years since he’d been in a match, but he could still remember the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
“But then it just got more regular. I’d floo to his place after practice. We’d fuck. He’d order Chinese food from some Muggle place down the road and we’d shag some more before I went home.” Draco stared at Harry once more. “It was six months before I realised I was spending more than half my week sleeping there and I got so freaked out about it, I stopped going for a while.” Draco sighed.
“I remember that. That’s how I knew he was seeing someone; he was utterly miserable.”
Draco winced. “Anyway, I knew I had to do something more about it, but I didn’t know how he felt. It wasn’t all me, you know.” Draco looked pointedly at Ron. “He never said he wanted anything different either, so don’t go looking at me like this was something I did to him,” Draco snapped when Ron raised an eyebrow.
“Then a week or so ago, he said it. We’d been shagging and I guess it just came out in the heat of the moment. I couldn’t help it; I froze. I didn’t know what to say. Did I say it back? Not even my parents ever told me they loved me. I had literally never heard that phrase used in regards to me before, and I had no fucking clue what one says when the situation arises.” Draco ran his hand through his hair, which was currently rivalling Harry’s usual wild mop.
“So we finished and I left and didn’t come back for a few days, and when I did, it wasn’t the same. There was this unspoken question between us now; did I love him? Or didn’t I love him? I didn’t know what to do or say and this morning it all sort of came to a head.”
Draco went on to explain to Ron what Harry had said that morning, feeling more and more mortified as he explained the situation. How could he have just walked out like that, without saying a single word or at least acknowledging what Harry had said?
“And you just walked out?” Ron looked at him as if he were the daftest person he had ever seen.
“I needed time to think,” Draco replied heatedly.
“It sounds like you’ve had nothing but time.” Ron snorted indignantly as he leaned back into his chair.
“I know, I know, and I wish I could be the kind of person Harry needs. I haven’t reacted well to any of this relationship stuff, but I guess that’s because it’s caught me completely off-guard.” Draco sighed. He knew he was making excuses, but what else could he say?
“Well, don’t you think it’s time you started acting like you want to be in his life? The way he used to describe your relationship, even when I didn’t know who you were, it always sounded like he thought he was twisting your arm. He never wanted to upset you, in case you decided you didn’t want to be there anymore.” Ron met Draco’s eye and the blonde man couldn’t help but blush. Harry had always done everything he could to make Draco happy. Draco couldn’t believe how much he had taken advantage of Harry’s generosity.
“Yes.” Draco sighed and leaning back in his chair, he stared resolutely and wished that the scrawny little bastard would wake up.
Ron left an hour later. He had to get home to Edward, but he said he would come by in the morning and check on his friend. He placed a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder and when their eyes met, Draco knew Ron understood. He wasn’t perfect but he wasn’t going anywhere and he was going to make it up to Harry.
It was on the third day of Harry’s sleeping hospital stay that Draco ambled in, chewing a large chunk off the sandwich in his hand, and he found Harry awake. He stood in the doorway when he met Harry’s gaze, not sure what to do or say, or if Harry even recognised him; his stare was so blank.
“Are you feeling alright?” Draco managed around the mouthful of bread and cheese.
“What are you doing here?” Harry’s voice was croaky from lack of use and he tried to sit up in bed, wincing when his underused muscles cramped.
“Let me help you.” Draco discarded the sandwich next to Harry’s bed and attempted to help Harry sit up properly, only to be pushed away.
“I don’t need your help, so you can leave now. You can go away, knowing I’m not dead. You don’t need to feel guilty,” Harry growled and panted with the effort it took to move with cramped muscles and a sore chest.
Draco ignored how much those words hurt. He knew he deserved them and anything else Harry felt like dishing out.
“I’m not going anywhere, Harry. I’m here to look after you.” Draco tried to infuse the sentence with as much sincerity as he could, but he saw a flicker of suspicion across Harry’s face.
“You don’t have to do that. I’m not going to ask you for anything anymore. I don’t want to be a burden.” Harry sighed as he finally settled back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling.
Draco was just about to launch into a heartfelt speech about how much he wanted to do anything Harry asked when a whirl of frizzy brown hair flew into the room.
“Harry, are you alright? I got home from Italy late last night and Ron told me what happened. You’ve been in a coma for three days!” Hermione Granger launched into a rant, and Harry winced. It sounded like she was scolding him for having been in a coma, as if he’d had any control over waking up.
“Two days, actually. I woke up yesterday afternoon.” Harry sighed and smiled warmly at Hermione.
“What do you mean, you woke up yesterday afternoon? Why didn’t anyone call me at practice?”
Hermione jumped at the sound of Draco’s livid voice.
He had avoided practice the day after Harry’s accident, but with a coach threatening to fire him if he didn’t prepare for the Falcons’ next game and medical staff who were threatening to put him in a coma if he didn’t stop being so rude, he’d had little choice but to escape for the evening, as long as they promised to call if anything happened. When he’d stopped by later that night after a long and arduous practice, Harry had been sleeping and there hadn’t been any staff members around to harass about his lack of progress.
“Because I told them not to! I didn’t want you here, so just go!” Harry snapped and Draco stared at him blankly. Harry really had given up on him; he truly didn’t want him around.
“I’m sorry.” Draco’s voice cracked and he avoided staring at Harry, who looked so different to the unhappy, defeated man he had been sharing a bed with recently. There was a fire in Harry’s eyes again. It seemed his brush with death had made him re-evaluate his life; obviously, he wouldn’t be wasting any more time on Draco.
“So am I. Sorry we ever started shagging! Like I said before, you can leave now; you don’t need to worry about me anymore! I’m not going to bother you with foolish sentiments of love,” Harry spat and Draco could see he was positively seething, and shaking with the effort to not blast Draco out of the room.
“Okay.” Draco picked up a scarf he had left on a chair next to Harry’s bed, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.
“Sorry to rush off, Granger, terribly impolite of me. Give my best to Ron, tell him I said ‘thank you very much’ for the advice the other night.” Draco nodded at Hermione, who looked completely flabbergasted at his politeness, before he turned to Harry, who looked equally shocked.
“Goodbye, Harry. I really am sorry.” Draco hated the way his voice wavered. He was still a Malfoy and a Malfoy never betrayed his emotions. Draco chanced one glance at Harry and winced at the shuttered look on his face before fleeing from the room.
*
“I can’t believe you’ve been shagging Malfoy!” Hermione admonished later that day as she helped Harry settle onto his sofa while Ron carried in a tray of teacups.
“He hasn’t been shagging Malfoy, Hermione. They’re in love.” Ron sighed, like he was explaining something to a small child.
“Hardly.” Harry sighed and stared at the ceiling.
“Not ‘hardly’. Harry, he was frantic with worry the night you were hurt! We talked for a long time about how much he cared about you, but didn’t know how to show it. He seemed to envy you. You were so easy with the words that terrified him and he was just afraid he-“
“Ron, I don’t need you to make excuses for him. If he loved me he would have said it or showed it, but for months and months, I waited and he didn’t do anything. I told him how I felt, I was honest with him, but he didn’t respect me enough to so much as acknowledge it!” Harry snapped and glared at Ron.
“He’s not like us, Harry. He’s not like you! He doesn’t have a direct line from his heart to his mouth. He told me he has never said those words or heard them said to him! Since you became a wizard, you’ve had no doubt about how much you were loved by those around you. Imagine what that must have been like for him?” Ron sat on the armchair opposite him and glared back at Harry.
“Since when have you been Malfoy’s biggest advocate, Ron? You hate him!”
“No, Harry. Hate is such a strong word. I think he’s a pompous prick, but after listening to him tell me how much he loved you, and how he was sick with worry over you and how he wished he could wind the clock back and change everything he had done, I can’t help but respect him a little.”
Harry stared at his friend for a moment, unsure if he was truly hearing what Ron was saying.
“He really said that?” Harry’s voice cracked.
“That and more. Harry, why would I be talking up Draco Malfoy if it weren’t true?” Ron stared resolutely at his friend, letting him know that he was absolutely serious.
“I need to see him!” Harry struggled to get up from the sofa to the dismay of Hermione, but Harry saw the way Ron smirked.
“Hermione, let him go. He’s not going to listen. You know Harry won’t listen when he has something in his head.” Ron sounded far too amused and Hermione had to admonish him, giving Harry time to escape.
“Harry Potter! You’re barely out of hospital and the doctor wasn’t happy with that! I promised you wouldn’t move from the sofa!”
“Hermione, I have to see him. I promise I’ll rest. If he doesn’t want to see me then I’ll be back in no time!” Harry protested hurriedly as he backed out of the room, looking rather ridiculous in his pyjamas as he wrapped a scarf around his neck and slipped his feet into his trainers.
Before she could say another word, he Apparated away.
Harry found himself outside Draco’s flat and immediately knocked on the blonde’s door. It took a while for Draco to appear and when he did, the surprise at finding Harry standing there was written all over his face.
“Are you going to let me in? It’s November and I’ve just gotten out of hospital after all.” Harry laughed nervously, trying to break the awkward silence.
“Of course, please come in.” Draco stepped back and let Harry enter his flat. Harry walked into the living room he had spent very little time in, and turned back to Draco who closed the front door.
“What are you doing here? You should be resting,” Draco asked softly, trying desperately not to stare at Harry, who instead of looking sickly looked gorgeous. He was flushed and had a head full of gloriously tousled hair. He looked much like he did after they’d fucked.
“I needed to see you, to tell you how sorry I am about this morning. I shouldn’t have told you to leave, especially after you’d been there since the accident.” Harry wrung his hands together and sighed nervously.
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing I didn’t deserve, I’m sure.” Draco smiled at Harry, and it almost looked genuine.
“But then I talked to Ron and I don’t think you did deserve it.”
Draco blushed. “What did he say?”
“He said you told him you loved me.”
Draco blushed even harder. “And you believe him?”
“Ron has no reason to lie to me, but now I want the truth from you.” Harry stared at him defiantly.
“I thought I’d lost you the other day when I left. Whether you’d had the accident or not, I figured I’d lost you anyway, but I was going to fight. I was going to come home after practice and beg if I had to, and then the Canons called and my heart stopped, Harry.”
Draco was shaking as he stared at Harry and the former Gryffindor could see the dismay Draco had felt written across the blonde’s face, and he couldn’t help but rush forward to clutch at the slighter man.
“I do love you, Harry. I’m sorry I never showed it. I’m sorry it’s not easy for me to say, but I’ll try because I never again want to leave you wondering how I feel about you. I want you to always know, always,” Draco whispered frantically as he clutched tightly back at Harry, only pulling away when Harry winced at the pain around his ribs.
“Shit Harry! You’re still in pain!” Draco glared at Harry as he carefully pushed him away and held him at arms length.
“I had to see you,” Harry answered sheepishly and grinned at Draco who frowned at him.
“Let’s get you home!”
“Only if you’ll come with me.”
Draco smiled softly at Harry and pulled him closer once more, wrapping his arms around him gently so as not hurt Harry’s already bruised ribs.
“I love you, Draco,” Harry whispered against the blonde’s neck.
“I love you too.” Draco’s voice wavered but Harry tipped his chin upwards and positively beamed at him. Draco grinned back and pressed his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth.
“Let’s go home.” Harry sighed and kissed Draco back soundly.