1000 Days of Harry Potter

Day 659

Draco groans and runs a hand over his face. He's been trying to read in front of the fireplace for over an hour and he just can't seem to focus. He'd taken Harry's advice and planned a simple outing with Brandon and Teddy. They'll go to the park and out for ice cream in the morning, but Draco still doesn't feel overly comfortable with the situation. He's seriously considering owling Brandon and cancelling the whole thing.

The past month has been a bit of a disaster, relationship-wise. The first month Draco had had Teddy when he and Brandon had begun dating had felt like torture, only seeing Brandon for the occasional date and never letting him sleep over with Teddy there, but this time Draco is grateful for the distance. The non-stop fighting is driving him mad and he knows that something has to change, he just isn't sure what. How had he gone from thinking he was falling in love with Brandon to...this?

He's startled from his melancholy thoughts when the Floo rings. He's not too surprised to see Harry when he answers, but the serious expression on his face makes him a little nervous.

"Harry? It's late, what—? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, no, but it's not an emergency. Can I come through? I need to talk to you."

"Sure."

Harry steps through the Floo looking like he's just come from a club. He's wearing Sirius's old leather jacket, ripped jeans, and the lace-up combat boots Draco gave him for Christmas last year. There's smudged eyeliner around his eyes behind his glasses, and a smear of body glitter across one cheek—clearly transferred from someone else's body, and Draco really doesn't want to know how.

"Do you have a Pensieve?"

"Yeah, in my office, but what's—?"

"I need to show you something," Harry says quickly. "I really hope I'm wrong, because I only met him the one time through the Floo, and it was really dark tonight in the Onyx Spire, so maybe, I mean, it's entirely possible that I—I mean it really might not have been him, but just in case—"

"Harry, stop. Just tell me."

Harry visibly cringes as he forces the words out. "I think I saw your boyfriend snogging and then leaving with another bloke at the club tonight."

Draco's stomach lurches. "What?"

"But I might be wrong!" Harry adds quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "So I want you to watch the memory and make sure."

Feeling slightly numb, Draco fetches the Pensieve and brings it down to the sitting room where Harry is waiting. He puts the memory in and waits while Draco watches. Draco is fuming when he pulls his head out of the Pensieve.

"It was him," Draco seethes, keeping his voice down so as not to wake Teddy, even though he wants to scream. "He's wearing my fucking shirt."

Harry sighs. "Shit. I really wanted to be wrong. I can stay here with Teddy while you go hex his face off. Or his balls. I mean, hex whatever you want, I don't want to limit you."

Draco can't help laughing, even if it does come out slightly hysterical. "Harry James Potter, are you drunk?"

"A little," Harry concedes. "Just drunk enough to condone the hexing of cheating bastards." He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "Aurors aren't supposed to do that."

Draco rolls his eyes at him. "No, they're not. I'm not nearly drunk enough to process this. And no, I'm not going to hex anyone."

"Damn," Harry takes off his jacket and sprawls comfortably on Draco's sofa. "You're more mature than I am."

"That," Draco sniffs, "is news to literally no one."

Harry's rolling laughter follows him as Draco goes to the pantry in search of the bottle of Muggle vodka Harry gave him for Christmas last year. It takes a few minutes to find it, but he eventually returns with the bottle and no drinking glasses, and Harry's eyes widen.

"Er, Draco, are you sure...?"

He's cast a Cleansing Charm over himself while he was gone, Draco notices, all evidence of eyeliner and body glitter neatly removed.

"I'm brokenhearted, Harry. Devastated. I can drink from the bottle if I want. You want some?"

Draco passes the bottle over and Harry takes a sip and gives it back. They drink in silence for a few minutes, until—

"Wait, wait, wait," Draco leans against Harry's shoulder. "Harry. We can't both be drunk right now. Someone has to watch Teddy."

"Already took care of that while you were getting the bottle. Hermione is coming by in—" Harry squints at the clock on the mantle, "—about five minutes. To pick Teddy up for a 'surprise sleepover.'"

Draco stares blankly at him. "That's not a thing."

"Is now," Harry grins. "I'm a genius. Congratulate me."

Hermione really does show up a few minutes later, waking up a delighted Teddy and sending him through the Floo. She gives Draco a tight, sympathetic hug, kisses his cheek, and presses two vials of Hangover Potion into his hand. "I'll bring Teddy home after dinner tomorrow, alright?"

The kindness actually chokes him up a bit. "Thanks, Hermione."

And then Draco is alone with a slightly-drunk Harry Potter, who offers him the bottle and a shoulder to cry on. He takes him up on it, curling against his side to bury his face in the soft black t-shirt he's wearing. He's also wearing the cologne Draco gave him for his birthday last year, and Merlin, Draco congratulates himself on his good taste—Harry smells incredible.

They're both pissed within the hour.

"I just...I really liked him," Draco ends up hiccuping against Harry's chest, lying on top of him on the sofa.

"I know." Harry strokes his hair. "You did."

"Lying bastard, I actually thought..." I thought I might get over you. At least, at first.

"You'll be okay," Harry tells him, yawning around the words. "You'll find someone else. Someone better."

"Like you have?"

The words come out sharper than Draco intended, but Harry doesn't react other than to sigh and sink further into the sofa cushions, getting comfortable.

"I'm giving up. There's no hope left for me. You, though...you're so smart, Draco. And kind. And beautiful. You...you're...you're everything. You'll be alright."

"Everything?" What the fuck does that mean?

"Mmhm."

Harry's eyes are closed, and Draco can feel his breaths slowing under his head. The movement is soothing, and it's nice, lying together like this, and soon he can feel himself drifting off to sleep, too.