I Hate You, I Love You - Drarry

Part 16: Longing for Approval

Harry trudged through the early winter snow with an invisible weight on his back. It had been days since classes had started up, but he didn't feel like things were back to normal.

Everyone seemed to act like he didn't exist. He didn't think it was on purpose, just that his friends and he were slowly growing apart. Still trying to make an effort, Harry walked to all his classes with Ron and Hermione and went to festivities and gatherings, but he couldn't socialize and communicate when it wasn't with the person he wanted to the most.

Draco had been missing from his life for these few days; not even a word about him had been passed to Harry. It was torturous. Every burning minute passed by in a panic of aggression and fear and longing and sadness. Harry had never been so wound up in his own head before. Was it like this for others?

Harry kicked a chunk of snow on the pathway. The weight. The secrets. The change. He couldn't breathe, it was all so much. How was he supposed to do this? Keeping this secret was crucial for Dtaco's personal life. Anyways, it isn't supposed to cause harm it's to prevent it. Right? 

Privately, Harry yearned to make their relationship public. Although he knew that it would be painful to reveal the truth to his close friends, he knew it was impossible for Draco. Figuring he was being selfish, Harry shoved the idea down.

He missed him. He missed him so much. Over the winter break, it felt as if they had left their former selves and become new ones, some parts of them slightly integrated with other. Every breath was Draco, every blink. He was such a vital part of him, and like any living organism, regular needs had to be satisfied to live peacefully. He needed to see Draco.

Just to see him. It had been so long since he locked with those grey eyes, since he smelled the minty wood scent of his pajamas, of his sheets. Since he felt those pale, slender arms squeezed around his torso. So long since he felt the plush, warm press of his lips.

Harry's musings were interrupted when a snowball hit him on the back of his head. Harry flinched, but didn't turn around immediately. His heart jumped at the small possibility of a certain boy being the attacker. Half squinting in hesitation and anticipation, he cocked his head around.

It was Ron.

"Hey Ron," he said indifferently.

"Wow Harry," he said sarcastically. "You sound happy to see me."

"Sorry, mate. I've just been in an odd headspace for a bit. Don't know if you noticed or anything. There's just a lot going on with me and my life. I just feel a bit overwhelmed."

"No worries man," Ron said amicably. "I haven't noticed anything off about you."

Then he hasn't been paying attention. Harry rolled his eyes half-jokingly and walked up to him.

"Class is in 3, better get to it then."

"Ugh."

Harry was now sat in Charms class-the only class with Draco in it. The chalkboard was littered with notes and instructions in white lettering, but Harry wasn't looking at anything except the blonde hair beside him. His side profile displayed a look of determination and focus as he summarized the class's lecture in his worksheet. He was so pretty. Harry had a giddy smile unknowingly placed on his face, but no one was looking.

A poke on his shoulder came from the other side of him. The sedated expression was quickly replaced by surprise and, later, annoyance. The end of Hermione's quill was dug into his sweater, gently stabbing his skin.

"What do you want with Malfoy!" she whispered. "Why are you looking at him like that? Are you trying to get bullied again?"

Harry's stomach lurched at the mention of getting caught. Was it that obvious? Hopefully she doesn't think... 

Harry studied her angry face. He was safe, at least for now.

"Sorry, I was daydreaming," he said. Well, it wasn't a lie.

She huffed in annoyance and Harry made a gesture of dismissal, going back to his consuming thoughts.

That was way too close. He promised to himself: no more mistakes.

Letting out a sigh, he gazed at the boy. His chest ached for his attention. It was setting him over the edge.

Ripping a piece of parchment out of his leather notebook, he grabbed a spare quill.

Draco-

I miss you.

Can we meet up? You know, in secret? There's so much I need to talk to you about.

l̶o̶v̶

From, Harry

Shaking, he dropped it to the floor and scooted it with his foot in the direction of Malfoy.

He didn't see it.

Harry leaned out in his chair, stretching toward the mess of blonde hair to the side of him. And, copying Hermione, used the dull end of the quill to poke his back.

"OW!" Malfoy exclaimed, drawing the whole classes' attention. He whipped his head to face him, his eyes widening when registering it was Harry. "What was that for?"

"Um-" he stuttered looking around at all the staring faces. "Nothing, sorry."

Everyone settled down and returned their gazes to their assignment.

Harry gestured to the still-staring Draco to look at the floor. Once he caught sight of it, he retrieved the slip of parchment.

Harry held his breath as Draco's sight bounced from left to right, reading the note.

With a subtle blush in his cheeks, Draco gave a soft nod and turned back around.

"Tonight," he whispered back.