Christmas 2016 Fic: Reset (H/D, rated R) - Part 12
Title: Reset - Part 12
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #14: gift gone horribly wrong and #17: introducing Christmas traditions to each other, and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #21: Hogwarts from a distance #22: poinsettia.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Reset - Part 12
Draco was so nervous. He'd had a good week, after that conversation with Weasley had gutted him. Looking back, he should have done it earlier, but it was too much. Too soon. And, as a Slytherin, he'd been groomed to keep things close to his chest. Show no weakness. Don’t give the enemy - or anyone, really - anything they could use against you later. And here he'd done it. Put it all out there, to Weasel of all people.
He ran his hand through his hair again - he must have picked up that habit from Harry. At least his hair didn't look like Harry's. He shuddered, thinking back to that kiss they'd shared, when Harry's hair had been more of a rat's nest than ever, but he'd never looked better. Fuck, he was losing it.
He'd talked to Weasley because he was Harry's best friend. For that reason alone, he'd laid himself bare - okay, not really, but he'd let his weakness show - to someone who wouldn't hesitate to turn that back on him. He'd made that clear with his warning. But then he'd done somethings strange: he'd been nice to Draco. What was that about? Draco had hoped to calm the resentment a bit and let Weasley know he didn't mean any harm to Harry, but he hadn't thought they'd become friendly.
While Draco had relaxed when he'd been working with Weasley and Finnegan, now that he was back in his own room, his Slytherin instincts were warning him to tread carefully. This could be the calm before the storm, with them lulling him into a false sense of security before they pounced. And where better to do that than off school grounds, in the shop of Weasley's brother?
His stomach was in knots. What had he been thinking, agreeing to go to this stupid party? The Weasley twins had been infamous for their pranks, but Draco was no fool. Their magic, whatever it had been used for in the past, was impeccable. And he hadn't forgotten their contributions to the war effort. Was this some way for the Weasleys to exact revenge on him? There would be three of them there tonight. And Harry's other friends too. Friends that would be fiercely loyal and protective. He must be insane to even consider putting himself into that situation.
He'd worked himself into quite the state by the time he'd approached the Great Hall where they'd all be meeting before heading out. He'd made up his mind to cancel, stay back at the castle. It's not like any of them would care anyway.
"Hello, Draco!" He'd been so deep in thought, he hadn't seen Luna approaching. He cringed. He supposed he owed her a proper apology too, but he was too worked up now to go through that again. "Are you okay? You don't look okay."
He blinked. She sounded concerned. About him. Who were these people that surrounded Harry? Before he'd even wrapped his head around the question, she'd put a calming hand on his arm. "It won't be that bad," she said. "George is a prankster, but it's all in good fun."
"I-"
Then she did something that he'd never in a million years have expected: she linked her arm in his and steered him away from the Great Hall. Was this it? Was she leading him somewhere to be ambushed? He tensed.
She pulled his arm a little closer to hers in response. "You know, Draco," she said, "I think this is the first chance we've had to talk alone. You always seem to have Harry with you."
There was no accusation in her tone, but that didn't make him any less wary. She was a Ravenclaw, after all. Very smart, presumably, despite her ditsy outward appearance. She was right, though. He'd studiously avoided her all year, unable to look her in the eye after what had happened at the Manor. "I think you're right," he said guardedly.
"I never got the chance to thank you."
He choked and stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her up short. "W-what?"
"At the Manor," she said matter-of-factly, like it was an everyday occurrence to be held captive for months in your classmate's basement. "You were very kind to me."
"I was … what?"
She looked him straight in the eye and there was nothing in those blue depths that spoke of anything but honesty. But how could that be? How could she be thanking him for holding her captive?
"I know there was nothing much you could do. Voldemort and his Death Eaters could be very persuasive."
Okay, he took back everything he'd ever thought of her intelligence. The hat had clearly got it wrong when it had placed her in Ravenclaw. She really was as loony as her reputation. "I was a Death Eater," he explained, as though she and all her friends didn't already know that.
She laughed that little-girl laugh that had irritated him before, but that now just made him feel a little sorry for the daft witch. "Don't be silly," she said. "No one believes that for a minute. You just did what you had to do, what you thought you had to do."
He scowled. "I had a choice."
"Did you really?" she asked, looking past him as though the answer to that lay behind him somewhere. He stood silently watching, wondering what conclusions the wheels inside that blonde head were spinning. After a time, she seemed to change topic. "Did you know that my father turned Harry in to the Death Eaters?"
He had not known that. By that time, the Malfoys had no longer been in the Dark Lord's favour and as such learned very little. He was stunned. Harry had never said, had never suggested anything like that. "No, I didn't."
"He didn't have a choice either, you see."
Draco considered this and when it clicked into place, he felt ill. "Because you were at the Manor."
She nodded and smiled - how could she smile at such a memory? "That's right. Voldemort was threatening me, holding me prisoner, and my father desperately wanted me back. He didn't know of any other way. So he did what he had to do."
"And you think it was the same for me?"
"Don't you?" She tilted her head to one side, looking at him curiously. "You and your family were in your own home, but you were still prisoners. I heard the screams and some of them were yours and your mother's. I saw how frightened you were, and no matter what happened, you were always kind to me and Mr Ollivander. You didn't have to be, but you were. I imagine my stay there could have been much worse, all things considered."
He gaped at her, astounded by the forgiveness of this crazy, crazy girl. "You are insane, you do know that, right?"
She smiled. "Some people think so. I just like to think of it as wanting to see the good in everything I can."
What could he say to that?
He wanted to know more, but hesitated. She seemed to sense it. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"
This might be his only chance, so he asked, "Did Harry forgive your father?"
"Oh, yes!" She grinned madly. "Harry and Hermione knew that he was just looking out for me. In fact, they made sure the Death Eaters saw them there, so Voldemort couldn't blame him for calling them under false pretenses. Ron took a while, though; in fact, I think he might still bear a bit of resentment, but he'll come around. Like with you."
Weasley. Had he really come around? After everything? He thought about Weasley's older brother. "I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts."
"Yes," she said, her voice trailing off and her glance going once again to someplace in the distance. "That was not a very good idea."
He snorted. Honestly. "No, it wasn't. A lot of people got hurt. And Greyback --" He shuddered, remembering how his stomach had heaved when he saw the werewolf coming in with the rest of them.
"Did you know he was coming?"
"No! I never would have-" But was that true? Would he have given up had he known Greyback would be coming? He couldn’t be sure. After all, the Dark Lord still had his parents.
"I don't think you really thought about what was going to happen. You just wanted to save your parents. Like my father wanted to save me." She took his hand in hers and squeezed. "Voldemort did this. He did it all. And he's gone now."
"Thanks to Harry."
She nodded and grinned brightly. "Thanks to Harry."
He drew his hand from hers slowly and ran it through his hair. "Why does he even speak to me?" The words tumbled out of him without thought. "Why do any of you?"
She shrugged. "Do you wish Voldemort had won?"
"Gods, no!"
"Well then, that says it all, doesn’t it?" Their conversation apparently at an end, she looped her arm back into his and turned him towards the Great Hall. "Now let's go to this party!"
***
His mind reeling from his conversation with Luna, and still feeling a bit vulnerable from his encounter earlier that week with Weasley, Draco lagged a bit behind everyone on their way to the party. He kept turning to look back at the castle in the distance, its outline a symbol of strength. And he had let evil in there.
By the time he'd entered the shop, his nerves were shot. He sat off to the side to gather his bearings and prepare for a night of social interaction, admiring the poinsettias and holly scattered around the room and the tree at the centre of it, and blinked his eyes at the mess of lights and tinsel and decorations presumably designed to bring tears to one's eyes. At once he wished Pansy and Blaise were here to appreciate - and critique - the place. Christmas had always been a special time for them as they introduced each other to their respective family traditions and exchanged gifts - some good, some not-so-good, and even a few that had been horrible. He grinned as he recalled Blaise's attempt at getting some Ravenclaw girl's attention one year with a gift, only to have it explode and send her to the hospital wing. Thank Salazar he'd not signed his name to that one.
Before he could get too maudlin, Luna approached him with a cup held aloft. "The punch is quite good," she said. At his hesitation, she took a sip. "And safe," she whispered. He watched for any sign that she might turn into a feathered creature of some sort, but when she didn't, he relented. His throat was rather dry.
He walked over to the punch bowl, Luna in tow, and ladled himself a cup. It was very good - fruity and yet not too sweet. He finished it quickly and got himself another. Before long, the effects of the punch - alcohol, not a transfiguring potion, thank goodness - took the edge off his nerves. He and Luna chatted about safe topics - classes, the weather, music and Quidditch. He still watched everyone closely, but it didn't seem anyone was paying him any more mind than they would normally. He relaxed and poured himself another cup.
Hermione approached and Luna floated off somewhere without a word. "Could we talk about the mini-Harrys for a bit?" she asked, motioning to a couple of chairs along the far wall.
Draco smiled and nodded. "Sure, what do you have in mind?"
They talked at length, Weasley coming by every once in a while to listen, then rolling his eyes as their conversation stubbornly maintained its subject matter. "I warned you, mate." Did Weasley just call him mate? He slugged back the rest of his punch. "Once she's committed to something, she'll drive you mad with her plans."
"Oh, hush, Ron."
Draco took that opportunity to get himself some more punch - it was really rather good. Cheers to the bartender. He drank a full cup, giving Weasel and Granger time to themselves, then poured himself another. When Weasley approached, he was pouring himself yet another.
Weasley clapped him on the shoulder. "She's all yours. Has more to talk about, apparently." Then he leaned in to whisper. Draco stiffened. "If you need a break, give me a nod and I'll come rescue you."
He chuckled. "I'll be sure to do that," he said through a heavy tongue.
As he made his way back to his seat, the floor chose that moment to rock back and forth ever so slightly. He scowled at his cup. Perhaps he should slow down a bit.
Whether because of the alcohol or because Granger really did love to talk, Draco didn’t know, but his mind began wandering. Back to Harry, of course. It was always Harry. These were his friends and they allowed Draco to be here because of him. He looked across the room to find Harry looking at him. He smiled and raised his cup in a toast before turning back to Granger and nodding. What was she saying? It didn't matter. What mattered is that she was talking to him at all. That any of them were. And it was all because of Harry. He looked again. Harry was watching him again.
It caught him off-guard, though he knew it shouldn't. Harry had been watching him for years. Only he was Potter back then and he would glare at Draco, not smile. And Potter would never have kissed Draco. He took another sip of his punch to avoid touching his lips. The ghost of Harry's touch had never left them. He wished he'd do it again. He chanced another look and sure enough, Harry was still watching him, even with Weasley now seated beside him. Harry smiled and Draco's stomach flipped. Fuck, he wanted that man like he'd never wanted anything in his life. He attempted a nonchalant grin but knew he'd failed. He returned his gaze to Granger who, incredibly, was still talking.
Out of nowhere, Weasley appeared and reached for Granger's hand and pulled her up. "Give the poor boy a break," he told her and he winked at Draco. Draco raised his cup in a toast to his saviour, then downed the last of it. Then he turned to his real saviour. As corny as that sounded, that really was who Harry was. And he kept staring at Draco.
Well, that was enough of that. Draco pulled himself up none too easily and made his way across the room, convinced older brother Weasley had cast some sort of wave spell on the floor. Barely able to remain upright, he plunked himself gracelessly down beside Harry.
"You keep staring at me," he accused.
Harry smiled and didn't even try to deny it. "It's my job, isn't it?"
He wasn't sure if he liked being Harry's job. "Come again?"
"The last time Seamus' skills at spiking drinks affected you," Harry explained, "you blamed me for not saving you from yourself, remember?"
He did remember. "Yes!" He lifted a finger to emphasise the point, only there were several fingers waving in front of him. Damn it. Fucking Finnegan. "I don't think you're doing a very good job tonight either."
Harry's hands grasped his and lowered it. Draco's heart began pounding in his chest. "Perhaps not, but you’re safe with everyone here."
Safe. Yes. He felt safe here, with Harry. Even with Harry's friends, his crazy bunch of friends. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel safe.
A buzzing sound interrupted his thoughts and Draco nervously looked up for the source. He relaxed as he took it the outline of green leaves and white berries. He knew that plant. Oh, right! It looked like all that mistletoe buzzing around the Great Hall when they were working. Only then, they'd pre-emptively cast a charm to keep the charmed foliage from catching them under their spell. But now it hovered directly over Harry's head.
Harry would be stuck under it until he kissed someone or someone kissed him, and Draco didn't fancy watching that. Nope, there was nothing else for it. He smiled as he grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.
Part 13
Author: sesheta_66
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R overall
Word Count: ~20K overall
Summary: Forgetting the past isn't always possible or practical. Dwelling on it isn't constructive. Moving beyond it, into what lies ahead, can be just the thing to help us heal. And friends? Well, they make it all - past, present and future - worth living.
Author's Notes: Written for dracoharry100's Christmas Challenge, prompts #14: gift gone horribly wrong and #17: introducing Christmas traditions to each other, and slythindor100's 25 Days of Draco and Harry, prompts #21: Hogwarts from a distance #22: poinsettia.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Previous: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Reset - Part 12
Draco was so nervous. He'd had a good week, after that conversation with Weasley had gutted him. Looking back, he should have done it earlier, but it was too much. Too soon. And, as a Slytherin, he'd been groomed to keep things close to his chest. Show no weakness. Don’t give the enemy - or anyone, really - anything they could use against you later. And here he'd done it. Put it all out there, to Weasel of all people.
He ran his hand through his hair again - he must have picked up that habit from Harry. At least his hair didn't look like Harry's. He shuddered, thinking back to that kiss they'd shared, when Harry's hair had been more of a rat's nest than ever, but he'd never looked better. Fuck, he was losing it.
He'd talked to Weasley because he was Harry's best friend. For that reason alone, he'd laid himself bare - okay, not really, but he'd let his weakness show - to someone who wouldn't hesitate to turn that back on him. He'd made that clear with his warning. But then he'd done somethings strange: he'd been nice to Draco. What was that about? Draco had hoped to calm the resentment a bit and let Weasley know he didn't mean any harm to Harry, but he hadn't thought they'd become friendly.
While Draco had relaxed when he'd been working with Weasley and Finnegan, now that he was back in his own room, his Slytherin instincts were warning him to tread carefully. This could be the calm before the storm, with them lulling him into a false sense of security before they pounced. And where better to do that than off school grounds, in the shop of Weasley's brother?
His stomach was in knots. What had he been thinking, agreeing to go to this stupid party? The Weasley twins had been infamous for their pranks, but Draco was no fool. Their magic, whatever it had been used for in the past, was impeccable. And he hadn't forgotten their contributions to the war effort. Was this some way for the Weasleys to exact revenge on him? There would be three of them there tonight. And Harry's other friends too. Friends that would be fiercely loyal and protective. He must be insane to even consider putting himself into that situation.
He'd worked himself into quite the state by the time he'd approached the Great Hall where they'd all be meeting before heading out. He'd made up his mind to cancel, stay back at the castle. It's not like any of them would care anyway.
"Hello, Draco!" He'd been so deep in thought, he hadn't seen Luna approaching. He cringed. He supposed he owed her a proper apology too, but he was too worked up now to go through that again. "Are you okay? You don't look okay."
He blinked. She sounded concerned. About him. Who were these people that surrounded Harry? Before he'd even wrapped his head around the question, she'd put a calming hand on his arm. "It won't be that bad," she said. "George is a prankster, but it's all in good fun."
"I-"
Then she did something that he'd never in a million years have expected: she linked her arm in his and steered him away from the Great Hall. Was this it? Was she leading him somewhere to be ambushed? He tensed.
She pulled his arm a little closer to hers in response. "You know, Draco," she said, "I think this is the first chance we've had to talk alone. You always seem to have Harry with you."
There was no accusation in her tone, but that didn't make him any less wary. She was a Ravenclaw, after all. Very smart, presumably, despite her ditsy outward appearance. She was right, though. He'd studiously avoided her all year, unable to look her in the eye after what had happened at the Manor. "I think you're right," he said guardedly.
"I never got the chance to thank you."
He choked and stopped dead in his tracks, pulling her up short. "W-what?"
"At the Manor," she said matter-of-factly, like it was an everyday occurrence to be held captive for months in your classmate's basement. "You were very kind to me."
"I was … what?"
She looked him straight in the eye and there was nothing in those blue depths that spoke of anything but honesty. But how could that be? How could she be thanking him for holding her captive?
"I know there was nothing much you could do. Voldemort and his Death Eaters could be very persuasive."
Okay, he took back everything he'd ever thought of her intelligence. The hat had clearly got it wrong when it had placed her in Ravenclaw. She really was as loony as her reputation. "I was a Death Eater," he explained, as though she and all her friends didn't already know that.
She laughed that little-girl laugh that had irritated him before, but that now just made him feel a little sorry for the daft witch. "Don't be silly," she said. "No one believes that for a minute. You just did what you had to do, what you thought you had to do."
He scowled. "I had a choice."
"Did you really?" she asked, looking past him as though the answer to that lay behind him somewhere. He stood silently watching, wondering what conclusions the wheels inside that blonde head were spinning. After a time, she seemed to change topic. "Did you know that my father turned Harry in to the Death Eaters?"
He had not known that. By that time, the Malfoys had no longer been in the Dark Lord's favour and as such learned very little. He was stunned. Harry had never said, had never suggested anything like that. "No, I didn't."
"He didn't have a choice either, you see."
Draco considered this and when it clicked into place, he felt ill. "Because you were at the Manor."
She nodded and smiled - how could she smile at such a memory? "That's right. Voldemort was threatening me, holding me prisoner, and my father desperately wanted me back. He didn't know of any other way. So he did what he had to do."
"And you think it was the same for me?"
"Don't you?" She tilted her head to one side, looking at him curiously. "You and your family were in your own home, but you were still prisoners. I heard the screams and some of them were yours and your mother's. I saw how frightened you were, and no matter what happened, you were always kind to me and Mr Ollivander. You didn't have to be, but you were. I imagine my stay there could have been much worse, all things considered."
He gaped at her, astounded by the forgiveness of this crazy, crazy girl. "You are insane, you do know that, right?"
She smiled. "Some people think so. I just like to think of it as wanting to see the good in everything I can."
What could he say to that?
He wanted to know more, but hesitated. She seemed to sense it. "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"
This might be his only chance, so he asked, "Did Harry forgive your father?"
"Oh, yes!" She grinned madly. "Harry and Hermione knew that he was just looking out for me. In fact, they made sure the Death Eaters saw them there, so Voldemort couldn't blame him for calling them under false pretenses. Ron took a while, though; in fact, I think he might still bear a bit of resentment, but he'll come around. Like with you."
Weasley. Had he really come around? After everything? He thought about Weasley's older brother. "I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts."
"Yes," she said, her voice trailing off and her glance going once again to someplace in the distance. "That was not a very good idea."
He snorted. Honestly. "No, it wasn't. A lot of people got hurt. And Greyback --" He shuddered, remembering how his stomach had heaved when he saw the werewolf coming in with the rest of them.
"Did you know he was coming?"
"No! I never would have-" But was that true? Would he have given up had he known Greyback would be coming? He couldn’t be sure. After all, the Dark Lord still had his parents.
"I don't think you really thought about what was going to happen. You just wanted to save your parents. Like my father wanted to save me." She took his hand in hers and squeezed. "Voldemort did this. He did it all. And he's gone now."
"Thanks to Harry."
She nodded and grinned brightly. "Thanks to Harry."
He drew his hand from hers slowly and ran it through his hair. "Why does he even speak to me?" The words tumbled out of him without thought. "Why do any of you?"
She shrugged. "Do you wish Voldemort had won?"
"Gods, no!"
"Well then, that says it all, doesn’t it?" Their conversation apparently at an end, she looped her arm back into his and turned him towards the Great Hall. "Now let's go to this party!"
***
His mind reeling from his conversation with Luna, and still feeling a bit vulnerable from his encounter earlier that week with Weasley, Draco lagged a bit behind everyone on their way to the party. He kept turning to look back at the castle in the distance, its outline a symbol of strength. And he had let evil in there.
By the time he'd entered the shop, his nerves were shot. He sat off to the side to gather his bearings and prepare for a night of social interaction, admiring the poinsettias and holly scattered around the room and the tree at the centre of it, and blinked his eyes at the mess of lights and tinsel and decorations presumably designed to bring tears to one's eyes. At once he wished Pansy and Blaise were here to appreciate - and critique - the place. Christmas had always been a special time for them as they introduced each other to their respective family traditions and exchanged gifts - some good, some not-so-good, and even a few that had been horrible. He grinned as he recalled Blaise's attempt at getting some Ravenclaw girl's attention one year with a gift, only to have it explode and send her to the hospital wing. Thank Salazar he'd not signed his name to that one.
Before he could get too maudlin, Luna approached him with a cup held aloft. "The punch is quite good," she said. At his hesitation, she took a sip. "And safe," she whispered. He watched for any sign that she might turn into a feathered creature of some sort, but when she didn't, he relented. His throat was rather dry.
He walked over to the punch bowl, Luna in tow, and ladled himself a cup. It was very good - fruity and yet not too sweet. He finished it quickly and got himself another. Before long, the effects of the punch - alcohol, not a transfiguring potion, thank goodness - took the edge off his nerves. He and Luna chatted about safe topics - classes, the weather, music and Quidditch. He still watched everyone closely, but it didn't seem anyone was paying him any more mind than they would normally. He relaxed and poured himself another cup.
Hermione approached and Luna floated off somewhere without a word. "Could we talk about the mini-Harrys for a bit?" she asked, motioning to a couple of chairs along the far wall.
Draco smiled and nodded. "Sure, what do you have in mind?"
They talked at length, Weasley coming by every once in a while to listen, then rolling his eyes as their conversation stubbornly maintained its subject matter. "I warned you, mate." Did Weasley just call him mate? He slugged back the rest of his punch. "Once she's committed to something, she'll drive you mad with her plans."
"Oh, hush, Ron."
Draco took that opportunity to get himself some more punch - it was really rather good. Cheers to the bartender. He drank a full cup, giving Weasel and Granger time to themselves, then poured himself another. When Weasley approached, he was pouring himself yet another.
Weasley clapped him on the shoulder. "She's all yours. Has more to talk about, apparently." Then he leaned in to whisper. Draco stiffened. "If you need a break, give me a nod and I'll come rescue you."
He chuckled. "I'll be sure to do that," he said through a heavy tongue.
As he made his way back to his seat, the floor chose that moment to rock back and forth ever so slightly. He scowled at his cup. Perhaps he should slow down a bit.
Whether because of the alcohol or because Granger really did love to talk, Draco didn’t know, but his mind began wandering. Back to Harry, of course. It was always Harry. These were his friends and they allowed Draco to be here because of him. He looked across the room to find Harry looking at him. He smiled and raised his cup in a toast before turning back to Granger and nodding. What was she saying? It didn't matter. What mattered is that she was talking to him at all. That any of them were. And it was all because of Harry. He looked again. Harry was watching him again.
It caught him off-guard, though he knew it shouldn't. Harry had been watching him for years. Only he was Potter back then and he would glare at Draco, not smile. And Potter would never have kissed Draco. He took another sip of his punch to avoid touching his lips. The ghost of Harry's touch had never left them. He wished he'd do it again. He chanced another look and sure enough, Harry was still watching him, even with Weasley now seated beside him. Harry smiled and Draco's stomach flipped. Fuck, he wanted that man like he'd never wanted anything in his life. He attempted a nonchalant grin but knew he'd failed. He returned his gaze to Granger who, incredibly, was still talking.
Out of nowhere, Weasley appeared and reached for Granger's hand and pulled her up. "Give the poor boy a break," he told her and he winked at Draco. Draco raised his cup in a toast to his saviour, then downed the last of it. Then he turned to his real saviour. As corny as that sounded, that really was who Harry was. And he kept staring at Draco.
Well, that was enough of that. Draco pulled himself up none too easily and made his way across the room, convinced older brother Weasley had cast some sort of wave spell on the floor. Barely able to remain upright, he plunked himself gracelessly down beside Harry.
"You keep staring at me," he accused.
Harry smiled and didn't even try to deny it. "It's my job, isn't it?"
He wasn't sure if he liked being Harry's job. "Come again?"
"The last time Seamus' skills at spiking drinks affected you," Harry explained, "you blamed me for not saving you from yourself, remember?"
He did remember. "Yes!" He lifted a finger to emphasise the point, only there were several fingers waving in front of him. Damn it. Fucking Finnegan. "I don't think you're doing a very good job tonight either."
Harry's hands grasped his and lowered it. Draco's heart began pounding in his chest. "Perhaps not, but you’re safe with everyone here."
Safe. Yes. He felt safe here, with Harry. Even with Harry's friends, his crazy bunch of friends. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to feel safe.
A buzzing sound interrupted his thoughts and Draco nervously looked up for the source. He relaxed as he took it the outline of green leaves and white berries. He knew that plant. Oh, right! It looked like all that mistletoe buzzing around the Great Hall when they were working. Only then, they'd pre-emptively cast a charm to keep the charmed foliage from catching them under their spell. But now it hovered directly over Harry's head.
Harry would be stuck under it until he kissed someone or someone kissed him, and Draco didn't fancy watching that. Nope, there was nothing else for it. He smiled as he grabbed the front of Harry's shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.
Part 13