Coming to Terms

Coming to Terms
Chapter 2

*

Draco unlocked the door to his flat in muggle London. The Malfoy Mansion still stood, but after the death of both his mother and father, he could stand to live there. Too many memories lingered, the good, yet mostly the bad.

Harry stumbled in behind him, a bottle of vodka in hand. He was drunk, completely drunk. Harry was not a pretty sight when he was drunk. His drinking usually resulted in him spending the whole night crying. But for now, he seemed stable enough, if Draco was lucky, Harry would stay this way.

He flopped down in an over stuffed chair. Draco tossed his jacket on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch across from Harry, just like old times.

“Draco?”

“Yes?”

“I have upheld my end of the bargain,” he said and took a slug from the bottle, “Now its your turn. Tell me what happened, because I do believe I’m going crazy.”

“Not tonight. You wouldn’t remember. Besides, I’ve seen you drunk, you get too emotional, and I don’t want to upset you,” he stated simply. He did not want to see Harry upset.

“No,” he said, his eyes watering, “You always did look after me, I just never noticed. I wish… I wish…” Harry stopped and buried his face in his hands, crying.

Draco walked over to him, “Give me to bottle. You’ve had entirely too much.” He obeyed and gave up the liquor.

“I hate everything. Nothing ever works out as I want it too. Look at me! I’m not even 20 and having a mid-life crises!”

Draco sighed. So much for keeping him from getting upset and emotional, “Harry, don’t do this to yourself. I don’t think I can help you through this. I’m going to pull out the sleep sofa for you.”

“What was the condition?”

“What condition?”

“When I asked you to dinner, you said yes on one condition. But you never told me what the condition was,” Harry said. He’d stopped crying. Thank god.

“Its not important. I’m not holding you too it,” Draco said and pulled the cushions off the couch and lifted out the bed.

“Its important to me,” he said and stood up.

“Harry…” he said facing him. His heart ached. He looked so down and pathetic.

“I’ve missed you,” Harry said sitting down on the bed.

“Let’s not talk about this tonight.”

“Sit down a second and listen to me you git!” Harry yelled.

Draco sat down and rolled his eyes, “What?”

“I want to say sorry. I know I’ve been a prat. If it makes you feel any better I’ve spent the last year wishing I could take back what I said.”

“No, it doesn’t help,” he snapped.

Harry nodded and his eyes started to water.

“For pity sakes Harry! Your not a child, get a hold of yourself.”

“I should have been the one who died. It should have been me,” Harry sobbed and made a grab for the bottle of vodka Draco held.

“This is the last time I go to dinner with you.”

Harry started crying openly now. He said nothing and walked down the hall into the bathroom.

Draco clenched his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. What a night. He’d only seen Harry like this once before, right after Dumbledore’s death. Hermione said Harry had shown up at her doorstep in this condition after the break up. Harry might be good at making the rest of the world think he was always strong, but he couldn’t fool everyone.

Draco walked into the kitchen and pulled out the orange juice and poured himself a glass. So much for not having to deal with Harry upset. He walked over to the bathroom door and knocked.

“Alive in there?”

“If you call this a life.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Draco walked in. Harry was at the sink splashing water in his face. There was no color in his face at all. But at least he wasn’t crying.

“If I wait until tomorrow for you to tell me what you remember, will you tell me what the condition was?” Harry asked, sounding sober.

Draco said nothing. He seemed reluctant, “I wasn’t being totally serious about the condition. It was nothing I was going to hold you too.”

“Fair enough. What was it?”

He turned and walked out, standing outside the doorway. “You know I still have feelings for you.”

“I noticed as much.”

“You know, we never did have a goodbye kiss.”

Harry turned off the water, and grabbed a towel. He looked at Draco; he had turned away, embarrassed.

“I can’t take back what I said when I left. I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean what I said,” Harry stuttered.

Draco turned around, his jaw dropped. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to say anything right now,” Harry said walking up to Draco. He tilted his head to the side, and their lips met. Draco momentarily returned the kiss. It had been so long, and he had missed this so much.

Draco pushed Harry away, “No, your drunk. I don’t need you holding this against me too when you realize what happened in the morning.”

Harry smiled, “I won’t.” He wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and pulled him against his body.

They kissed. For Draco it was like finding himself whole after being only a half of a person for so long, so he kissed back. Harry pushed Draco up against the wall, his kisses getting more frantic, like he was struggling to get everything out.

Then he pulled away, and sank into a puddle on the floor. Harry started to tremble and shake.

Still stunned from the kiss, Draco said nothing. His heart was racing, and he couldn’t see straight. It was hard to believe after all this time, that a kiss from Harry still had this effect on him.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I’m so sorry.”

“Its… its okay. You’re drunk. I understand you didn’t mean to kiss me,” yet he didn’t understand. What he felt for Potter could never be erased. And at the same time, Draco wasn’t going to let him tease him, and play with his head.

“No! That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t take the kiss back, I would never do that.”

“What then?” Draco asked, feeling confused. Did Harry mean then, that he didn’t regret the kiss? Was he glad? Or was it going to the last kiss he ever gave?

“For what happened before. I’m an asshole, I know,” Harry said looking up.

Draco just nodded.

“But for tonight, can we pretend I never said goodbye?” he said quickly to Draco, before he could change his mind.

*

Harry screamed, and his hands tightened into fists. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead, and his face twisted in pain. He had been like this all night. It was late; they had fallen asleep hours ago. But now Draco was awake, his lover curled beside him, tangled in the sheets.

He mumbled again, a feverish talk that haunted him. Draco smoothed down Harry’s hair in a vain attempt to comfort him.

When he said he was having bad dreams that was one thing. Being woken up, and thinking that Harry was being murdered was another thing. And for the first time, Draco started thinking about that night. Wondering what went on. Maybe he had missed something that he hadn’t noticed before.

Harry seemed to settle into a deeper sleep. Perhaps the nightmares were over. Tomorrow, Draco would keep his promise, and tell Harry what he remembered. Then, together, they would find out how to stop the nightmares.

*

It was early. Harry was sitting on the balcony with a smile on his face. The sun was shinning, and the breeze was washing over his soul. He felt better today than he had in a long time. He wasn’t even sure why. Making a complete ass out of himself last night wasn’t much help. Or maybe it was.

There had been a day, after a particularly bad night, when Harry had woken up, and realized he had stopped feeling. He suddenly realized that he had stopped enjoying life; he had even stopped trying to enjoy. There were no emotions left. He was drained. It was the worst feeling he had ever had, and he was stuck living like that.

Then, Harry woke up this morning beside Draco, and everything had changed. Harry felt different. Like he was a new person. Of course he had a splitting headache as well.

Harry sipped his coffee. Last night, it had been the first time he’d cried for awhile. His emotions had been on stand by. Until last night…

Oh! Last night… He smiled. To think that all this time he’d been denying how he really felt. How many times had he argued with Hermione about how he felt about Draco?

“What the hell are you smiling about?” Draco asked walking out of the flat. He only had his boxers on, and Harry couldn’t help but grin.

Draco caught his eye and winked.

“Feeling better?”

“Much. I hope I didn’t do anything too rash last night while I was drunk…” Harry said, joking. Draco thought he was serious and his jaw dropped.

“I’m just teasing!” Draco looked hurt.

“I’m teasing!” Harry said again and motioned for him to come closer.

Draco crossed his arms and walked over, “The price for that, is one kiss.”

“I can do that. But what about interest?”

*

“So does that mean you and Draco are back together?” Hermione asked, the next day. She smiled as she said it. Harry had the feeling, that inside, she was chanting, “I knew it!”

“I don’t know. I never did talk to him about the nightmares, or that night that…but the strange thing is, I don’t think I had nightmares the night I spent with him.”

Hermione grinned and slapped Harry’s arm, “That’s great! I mean, this must be a big break through. I wonder if it was specifically Draco that stopped it. I think I know of this book that talks about connections that-”

Harry laughed, “Same old Hermione. There was never a problem that a book couldn’t solve.”

She blushed and sank down into the chair. “So when are you going to see him again?”

“Tomorrow night. I’m staying sober this time.”

“HARRY!”

“I left that part out, didn’t I?”

“How drunk did you get?”

“Remember that night when Draco and I broke up the first time?”

“HARRY!”

“I know.”

“Poor Draco.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do you even remember that night?”

“A little,” Harry admitted.

“I was afraid to leave you alone. I thought you were going to go off the deep end on me. I can’t imagine what you dumped on Draco. Have you apologized?”

“Herm…”

“You get too emotional when you drink. You’re not fun to deal with. Even if we love you.”

He winced, and forced a smile.

“I know you know what I’m talking about.”

“Herm… I know it’s a little late. But I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, “I think you need to start learning how to handle yourself.”

“Anyway,” Harry said, desperately needing to change the subject. “Draco and I are going out tomorrow. We’re going to sit down and talk about everything, dinner at his place. The plan was to talk today, but it can wait.”

“It can wait? That sounds like the first positive thing I’ve heard from you. After running around like a chicken with your head cut off about these dreams… So what changed? What did you and Draco talk about? Something changed.”

*

It was late. Draco just couldn’t get to sleep. The sheets smelled to strongly of Harry. Harry… Suddenly he was 18 again, his seventh year…

“DETENTION FOR BOTH OF YOU!” Snape yelled, covered in a particularly bright shade of pink. Draco, who had been laughing moments earlier, was now stunned.

“Me?”

“Yes! I want both of you in my office tonight. You’ll be cleaning this place from top to bottom until this color is gone!” Harry sneered at Malfoy; he was always getting him in trouble. At least this time he was being punished. Too often, Harry found himself being blamed for everything.

The two boys locked eyes; tonight was not going to be pretty.

Draco tossed the covers aside. If only he has served a detention with Harry sooner, maybe then things would have been different. Or maybe not. It was the past, and he couldn’t change it, so why torture himself with “what if?” questions?

“You know Malfoy, it is your fault,” Harry said scrubbing the floor.

“Shut up Potter.”

“Why do you always try to get me in trouble anyway?” he asked and tossed down the rag.

“Why do you always act better than everyone else?” he snapped back.

“I don’t. You’re the one who does that.”

“Hardly. You’re the boy who lived.”

“Oh! That’s why you hate me? I’ll trade you anytime. You’re a lucky bastard, your parents are still alive.”

“Weasley knows what I mean.”

“Don’t you dare bring Ron into this,” Harry warned. Surprisingly, Draco said nothing in return, but continued working.

But nothing good ever lasted, “So why don’t you have a girlfriend, you are the famous Harry Potter, aren’t you?”

A twinge of emotion tugged inside Harry, “Why don’t you?”

“So, is Ron sleeping with both you and Hermione?”

Harry lunged at Draco. They two boys wrestled, and Harry seemed determined to kill him. Finally, they stopped. Harry had successfully pinned Draco to the ground.

Oddly, Draco was smiling.

“What’s that grin about?”

“Why do you hate me?” he asked.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Malfoy, since the day we met, you’ve be making snide remarks about me and my friends. You constantly get us in trouble. Not only that, but your cocky, snide, vain, and a completely terrible person.”

“Maybe I would have been nicer if you hadn’t turned down my friendship.”

“I wouldn’t have Herm and Ron if I had.”

“If I had been nice, what then?”

“Too late for that,” Harry said

“There is the rest of the year, Potter.”

“Why would you do that?”

“For your silence.”

“What? Why would I keep quiet about something for you? Besides, I don’t have anything on you.”

“You’re still on me,” Draco said squirming under Harry’s weight. Yet he enjoyed it. As the years dragged on, he found himself hating Harry less and less. Only now the insults came too naturally to stop.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled and got off.

“Its ok,” Draco said dully, and looked over at Harry. Maybe it was the light, but he looked like he might be blushing.

“Why’d you ask about Ron? …You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

“Why I’ve never had a girlfriend,” Harry said.

“No,” in all honestly, he didn’t. Yet Draco had a feeling he knew now.

“Never mind then. What were you talking about before when I was on you?”

Draco looked at Harry. It was now or never. “I think I know why… I mean about the girlfriend thing.”

“Oh.”

“Its okay. I like guys too…” Draco said, wondering why he was saying this. “I take that back. I like one.”

Harry looked up at Draco, “Yeah? Who is he?” The two boys locked eyes.

“I think you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Sometimes, its easier to pretend to hate someone, than to let them know how you feel,” Malfoy said. Harry nodded and picked his rag back up. They finished cleaning without another word to each other. They both knew what was going on. They also thought, that by not saying it allowed, that the other didn’t know.

For the next week there were no insults thrown. No pranks. Nothing. They ignored each other for the most part. It was Ron who first noticed.

“What did you do to Malfoy in detention?” he asked one morning during breakfast in the Great Hall.

“Nothing.”

“He hasn’t said one thing since. Are you sure you didn’t do anything?”

“I’m sure,” Harry said, and looked over at the Slytherin table. Draco was looking at him. He mouthed the words, “We need to talk.”

Harry nodded in reply, and mouthed, “Quidditch pit, eight o’clock.”


Draco smiled. He had never trusted anyone until then. When Harry left, he was more alone than he had ever been. He had found out what it meant to have a real friend, not just ones that obeyed you because of your father. Then he had lost it, something he’d grown so fond of.

He pulled the blankets back over him. He settled into the bed. He knew he’d dream about Harry… His Harry.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Draco said simply, and looked up at Harry. He said nothing in reply, but sat down in the grass beside him. He looked utterly confused. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked Harry to meet him.

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. The stadium was so quiet, and empty. He longed to have his broom, to push off the ground and just fly. There was nothing like flying.

Draco watched Harry out of the corner of his eye. He looked like he was daydreaming; a small smile crept across his face. Well, he was the one who said they needed to talk, and he doubted Harry was going to make the first move…

“Have you ever woken up and realized your life was a lie? And all along you’ve been convincing yourself it was true.”

“Sometimes.”

A one word answer. This wasn’t going to be easy to have him open up. Draco laughed inside. He was supposed to be the one who guarded his feelings. Who never let the enemy know his emotions…Was Harry an enemy?

“What happened?”

Draco turned his head, “What do you mean?”

“Obviously you don’t loathe me like you used to,” Harry said simply.

“I guess I stopped lying to myself.”

Harry nodded and sighed. His head was resting on his knee and his eyes starred intently at the ground.

“I’m not like my father. Not really. I’m not a Death Eater, and I’m not ever going to be. I know the way I act would make you believe otherwise, but I’m not evil. Sometimes its easier to play the role that people expect.”

“Playing the hand you’re given.”

“Huh?”

“Cards… Poker… Muggle game… Never mind,” Harry mumbled.

“You don’t believe me do you?”

“Why should I? You’re a prat until last week.”

“I told you, I realized something.”

“What?”

“That I don’t hate you.”

“And does that mean I shouldn’t still hate you?” he snapped. A look a fury filled Harry’s eyes. “You are like your father. You think the world revolves around you.”

Draco bit his tongue and said nothing as Harry got up.

“Why the hell did you bring me here?”

“It doesn’t matter, go back to your friends,” he said. Yet it wasn’t sarcastic, it was honest, like Draco was saying to go, because he thought it would be better. Harry stopped, and looked at him in a curious new light.

“Just when I think I have you figured out,” Harry said, and sat back down.

Draco shrugged, “You can go. It isn’t important.”

“Now, I am staying.”

A faint, small smile flashed over Draco’s face, but was gone in an instant, as if it had never been there in the first place.

“So what were you lying to yourself about?”

“A lot of things. Do you know how weird it is to realize you like a guy when all along you’ve be…er… fantasizing about girls?”

“So, are you gay?”

“I don’t think so. I like a lot of girls, and I like one guy,” Draco said carefully. Harry nodded.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know. I’m just confused about a lot. Like I’m not sure about what’s real and what’s not.”

“I don’t envy you.”

“So who is he?”

“Now’s not a good time. I’m not sure I want anyone to know yet. You’re the only one who knows I like a guy. That’s what I was asking you to be silent about.”

“Why of all people did you tell me? I’m sure one of your other friends would have understood.”

“I doubt it. They’re only my friends because they’re scared of my dad, and the Malfoy name. And… I had a feeling that you would understand better than anyone else,” Draco said looking up.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not at all, I just knew what I was looking for.”

“I don’t know. You like Ron, don’t you?”

Harry smiled, “No. He’s like a brother. Besides, he’s in love with Hermione. They have the perfect love hate relationship. They fight, then kiss and make up. Its almost funny to watch.”

“What do you think of love hate relationships then?”

“I guess it just depends on the people. Why?”

“Curious. I’m nothing like a brother to you, am I?” Draco asked.

It was then, that Harry realized what Draco was really asking. It had nothing to do with Ron. It was no wonder that Draco had chosen Harry to talk to. There had been more signs. Unfortunately, Harry needed it spelled out for him.

“No, your nothing like a brother. What are you going to do though, if that guy doesn’t like you back?”

Draco looked uncomfortable. Rejected even, “Nothing, let it go I guess.”

“And what if he does like you?”

His eyes brightened, “I’m not sure. I don’t think he would.” Draco looked at Harry, as if waiting to hear a yes or no.

“But what if he does?”

“It would be too good to be true. I’d have to make sure it was real. Its not very often things go how I want them too.”

“What would you do if you found out your worst enemy wasn’t really an enemy?”
“Are we assuming you have feelings for him or not?” Draco asked. He was going to get an answer, without really getting an answer.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Harry said softly.

Draco leaned over and kissed Harry. And surprisingly enough, he kissed back.