Drarry One-Shots 2

Grief is purple dusk in your arms

76. "We only have one room left for the night..." + 117. "Can you just please hold me?"

They'd barely walked through the door of the small hotel nearest to the Malfoy Manor when an uninterested, dry voice said, "We only have one room left for the night..."

"A double?" Harry asked, with a glance to Draco at his side. The only luggage they had was in Draco's hands – a small plastic bag from the nearby muggle grocers, filled with junk food and a couple of water bottles.

"Yes," the receptionist replied, and Harry nodded.

"We'll take it."

While the receptionist busied himself with getting them the key, Harry turned to Draco with worried eyes.

"You okay?"

Draco just nodded and Harry sighed. He squeezed Draco's hand for a second before letting go.

"C'mon... we'll push the beds together," he whispered and then walked to the counter to get the key. "How much for one night?"

"£40 for the night," the terse reply said. "The check-out is at 12."

"Thank you," Harry said, paid and then turned to get Draco. He was still standing near the door, half slumped against the glass wall covering the front of the hotel. Outside the world was purple dusk and in any other circumstance, Harry would remark how nice the light looked on Draco. Not today, though. Not after burying Narcissa and having to make small talk with half the Ministry afterwards.

"I got us a room," he said as lightly as he could. Draco nodded and they met halfway before leaving together for the elevator. Once inside, Harry took the plastic bag from Draco and then pulled him into a half hug. Draco practically melted into the embrace, half-burying his face into Harry's shoulder. It made Harry's heart ache.

He hurried to their room once they reached the third floor and swiftly opened the door. A swish of a wand glued the two beds together until they resembled a semi-comfortable pile of bedding, while another one transfigured their clothing into something comfortable and as far from funeral robes as Harry could manage. They both ended up in paint-covered sweatpants and worn-out Quidditch merch T-shirts, resembling the loungewear they favoured at home. The slump of Draco's shoulders seemed to lessen after the change.

"Wanna watch the telly?", Harry murmured as he moved across the room to manually close the blinds only to have something to do with his hands. Draco sat down on the bed. "Might have something mindless on."

Draco shook his head and laid back, closing his eyes in a grimace before covering them with his hands. His breath quickened and Harry was at his side in an instant.

"Can you just please hold me?" Draco managed to croak out and not a moment later he was curled in Harry's arms, trying to keep the tears away.

"You can cry if you want," Harry reminded him, making soothing circles over his back, and kissing his temple. "I cried when Sirius died. A lot. I felt like I would die. I only knew him for a bit more than two years and it was enough to completely trash Dumbledore's office after it."

"Did he give you detention for it?" Draco asked between silent sobs.

"No. He welcomed the destruction. Git," Harry sighed and curled closer around Draco's body. "He told me something about how grief shows we can love or some nonsense."

Draco didn't say anything but after a while, his breathing settled, and he uncurled just enough to properly hug the love of his life. "Thank you for being here with me."

Harry felt his eyes grow wet as he pressed a quick but firm kiss to Draco's lips. "Always."