"Dray."

Draco mumbled something incomprehensible as the sound of Potter's voice woke him up. It was too early.

"Draco," Potter said again, more urgent, though his smile was apparent in his voice.

The Slytherin finally gave in, rolling over and sitting up. "What is it?" He asked, yawning.

Gods, Potter was gorgeous. His emerald eyes were staring Draco straight in the fuck-I'm-gay region of his brain.

"Nothing, actually." Potter admitted. His arm slipped around Draco's shoulders. "I just missed you."

Draco leaned into the other's body and squirmed out from under the covers. "What bloody time is it? I feel like I barely slept at all."

"Oh, um," Potter turned red. "It's a little past four in the morning?"

Draco wanted to laugh, but this was more adorable than anything else. "And you missed me? Your bed is literally a meter away, you know."

"I know. Hey, Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"And I, you, Potter."

"It's Harry."

Draco put his arm around Harry's waist. "I'm kidding! I love you too, Harry. Thought I'd made that abundantly clear already."

"Could you make it clear again?" Harry leaned forward, his nose bumping against Draco's.

Draco leaned away. "Maybe after breakfast."

"Right. But, Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"It's four in the morning. There's no breakfast yet."

"Then I'm going back to bloody sleep!"

With a dramatic flourish, Draco plopped his head back down and pulled his covers back up. Harry scooted to the edge of the bed, uncertainty all over his features.

Draco smiled and grabbed the Gryffindor's hand. "You're welcome to stay, you know."

Harry sighed in relief and lay himself down next to Draco, curling himself around the other's body. This was, Draco realised, what safety felt like.

When Draco woke up the second time, it was again to someone calling his name, though this time it was with extremely different connotations.

"Malfoy?" Was that Weasley? Right, they shared a dormitory. Fuck.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Draco asked, ensuring that his annoyance was clear in his voice.

"What in bloody hell are you doing with Harry?"

Oh, right. That warmth against Draco's back was Harry Potter.

"Why not ask Harry what he's doing with me?" Draco suggested. "He's your friend. I'm your enemy. Or something."

"What's happening?" It was then that Harry awoke, sitting up and pulling Draco with him. He yawned, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. "Ron?"

Weasley looked upon the scene before him absolutely horrified. Draco smirked, leaning into Harry's strong form. It was fun to make people uncomfortable, he thought. Especially when that discomfort came from obvious homophobia, which it certainly did for the Weasel.

"Are you shagging Malfoy?" Weasley's mouth hung open in shock and dread to become what Draco considered a rather humorous expression.

"Um," Harry looked down at the arm he had around the blonde. "Technically, no."

"Then what the bloody fuck is happening?"

"I don't feel like explaining this right now. I need breakfast." Harry complained, crawling out of the bed. "Draco and I will explain at some point in the near future, ok?"

Weasley didn't answer. He was still looking between his best friend and the Slytherin with frustration. Draco, meanwhile, chose to ignore him and took his clothes and wand to change. When he got back, freshly Scourgify'd and hair done, Weasley was still standing there like an idiot, and Harry was silently staring at him. This was truly one of the most awkward situations Draco had ever witnessed, which was saying a lot considering what the Slytherins tended to do for fun in fourth year.

"Er," Draco said, touching Harry's arm with an awkward level almost equivalent to that of the two Gryffindors. "Shall we head to breakfast?"

"We shall," Harry responded, though rather disconnected.

Weasley said nothing, but silently nodded.

As they headed down to the Great Hall, Harry seemed to regain his footing and fell into pace with Draco, letting Weasley walk several meters ahead of them.

"I completely forgot that other people care about us," Harry murmured.

"Yeah," Draco responded. "What's with that, anyway?"

Harry laughed, face momentarily relaxing from its anxious expression. He had a cute smile.

Wait. Yes. Draco could say this stuff aloud now. "You have a cute smile," he told Harry, looking right into those emerald green eyes.

A bright red blush spread across Harry's cheeks, and his adorableness factor increased by at least twofold. Draco wished they could continue this conversation somewhere more private, instead of going to the Great Hall to eat or whatever the fuck. Eating was for people without boyfriends. Wait, could he say that yet? Was "I love you" the same as "okay we're dating now?" Ugh. Why did Draco have to be so bad at this?

They entered the Great Hall and reluctantly parted ways with a mutual understanding that their relationship becoming common knowledge couldn't happen quite yet.

"Could you keep Ron quiet?" Draco whispered to the Gryffindor, who nodded in response as he went to join his friends.

A small smile lingering on his face, Draco, too, turned in the opposite direction to find Blaise and Pansy, Pans with an I-told-you-so smirk and Blaise looking all too innocent, as if it was an ordinary day.

Staying nonchalant, the blonde Slytherin slipped into a seat next to his two friends and took a piece of toast, nibbling at it and trying to disguise the combination of joy and absolute terror that had taken over his insides.

They were quiet for a minute, long enough for Draco to start to settle down, when Pansy, all too suddenly, turned to him.

"So," she said, casually. "How's Potter?"

Draco managed to choke on the few crumbs he was chewing. "Fine," he said after recovering.

Pansy's face turned to a devilish grin. "He must be fine if you came in with him this morning," she remarked.

Draco choked again. He should probably stop eating. "Potter and I are friends," he said, though his voice was uneven.

She held up air quotes. "'Friends.' Sure you are."

Blaise leaned into the conversation and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something I'm missing here? Draco?"

Draco shrugged and looked down at the table. "It's nothing."

"Potter doesn't want him to tell us." Pansy translated.

Both of Blaise's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Oh."

"Actually," Draco still wasn't looking up at them, "it was my idea to keep it a secret. It's kind of a new thing, you know. Just since last night."

Pansy scoffed. "As long as you don't count years of sexual tension."

Draco felt his cheeks heat up, the colour of a strawberry extending to his neck. He supposed he had been quite obvious.

"Anyway, so you're fucking Potter now," Blaise said. He was acting casual, but Draco could detect strained jealousy hidden behind that façade.

"Not quite," Draco answered, going back to picking at his food. "And you two can't tell anyone about this, with Harry being the-boy-who-lived and all. The Daily Prophet would have a bloody field day."

"Yeah, yeah," Pansy responded. "I think we're used to not talking to the press at this weren't the only one put under a microscope after the war, you know."

"I know Pans, but I also know that you don't like Harry and would probably shatter his image if you could."

"Draco." She shook her head. "I practically have a legal obligation to be nice to him now that he's your boyfriend. Not that I like the git now or anything, but you like him, and you're my friend."

Draco gave her a tight smile. It wasn't a lot of reassurance, for Pansy could definitely be a sellout sometimes, but it was a lot coming from her. He turned to Blaise. "What about you? I need your word too."

Blaise nodded, but avoided the blonde's eyes. "I won't talk about it if you don't want me to. Still hate Potter, though."

Draco sighed, exasperated. This seemed to be as far as he was going to get with his friends. At least they weren't yelling it across the Great Hall.

After breakfast, Draco rejoined Harry in the corridor, falling into step beside him. Granger, on his other side, gave them a weird look. At least none of the red-haired Weasels were anywhere to be seen. Honestly, the very sight of them gave Draco a headache.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, looking at his shoes instead of at his boyfriend.

"Harry." Draco responded, his volume equally hushed. "Could I talk to you?"

"Bye, Hermione," Harry said to his friend as he left, beckoning Draco to follow him. She smiled, no wariness in her eyes at all as Harry left with a Malfoy. Did she know? Had Harry gone and told her? Fuck. At least it was only Granger.

Draco turned and proceeded down the hall, the Gryffindor at his heels. After a bit, and as soon as the corridor cleared somewhat, Draco took Harry by the arm and pulled him into a classroom he knew to be empty.

As soon as the door was closed, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled them together, burying his head in the other's shoulder. Draco, though shocked, reciprocated his affection. "So," Harry said. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"I can't remember," Draco responded, all his thoughts taken over by every little thing he noticed about the Gryffindor, like how he smelled like treacle tarts and how his wild hair was actually quite silky and soft against Draco's face.

Harry pulled away, and Draco's mind cleared enough to allow some legible sentiments to come through. "It's Sunday." He said.

"And?"

"And that means we could have the day to ourselves."

Harry smiled. "I'd like that."

"And what," Draco smirked, "would you suggest doing?"

Harry turned bright red and looked down at the floor as he tried to suppress a smile. "No, not- I mean I want to, but it's only been a day, so-"

"I know," Draco cut him off. "I was thinking we could go to Hogsmeade?"

Harry stared at him blankly. "But that's out in public."

Draco sighed. "True. Next week, maybe?"

"Next week? But that's so soon!"

"I love you, Harry. I don't want to hide us much longer. Besides, if you like me as much as I like you you know that this will have to come out at some point. Meaning, you'll have to come out."

"I know, but-"

"It's terrifying," Draco finished. "Still. You have to. It's not like people haven't seen us kiss before."

Harry went even redder at the mention of the Amortentia incident. "I forgot about that."

"I didn't."

"I love you. And, hey, remember what you said earlier? It's after breakfast now." He moved closer to Draco and wrapped his arms around the Slytherin's neck. Draco obliged and snuck his around Harry's waist.

Their lips met and fire sparked through Draco, igniting his entire being. He leaned into the kiss and let his lips part slightly for Harry's tongue. This was different from the previous night. Now, it was more passionate, more intimate, like a drug he couldn't get enough of. Could one overdose on Harry Potter? It seemed entirely likely.

When they eventually broke apart both found themselves staring at each other through enchanted eyes.

After a moment of silence, Harry opened his mouth to speak. "It was never like that with Ginny."

Something sunk in Draco's chest. "Can we not talk about her?" He murmured into the Gryffindor's black hair.

"Right. Sorry." Harry replied.

"Don't apologise." Draco told him. "You're too perfect for that."

"You're the perfect one," Harry said. "You're gorgeous. I love you."

Draco pressed a kiss to his lips. "And I love you."