𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Part 1

Title: Newfound Light

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Era: Post-Hogwarts (approx 10 years). Canon-compliant, but does not take into account the epilogue.

Rating: PG-13 (a little bit of language might push it to R, but it'd be a very light R)

Warnings: Very brief mention of past self-harm, angst, a little bit of cursing

Word Count: ~14,000

Summary: Harry is frustrated by the way Draco refuses to open up and take chances. Sequel to "Redemption".

Newfound Light

"Lumos."

Harry murmured the word and pointed his wand toward the floor. Draco hadn't stirred at the noise, nor at the light emanating from the wand. That was good. He needed his sleep. A quick glance at the clock told him they'd been asleep for an hour at most. He didn't remember clicking the television off, and wondered if Draco had done it, or if there was a timer of some sort. He shrugged to himself as he slipped on his shoes and straightened the glasses that had slid to the tip of his nose. It didn't matter.

Pulling a blanket from the cupboard, Harry draped it gently over the sleeping form on the sofa, pausing when Draco shifted into a more comfortable position. He let out his breath silently. Still sleeping. He tiptoed to the front door and closed it behind him as quietly as possible. Apparating inside would make too loud a noise, and Draco could be a light sleeper.

He Apparated home on the deserted street instead, shivering in the cold. He had a few hours until sunrise, time enough to sleep in his own bed before getting ready for work. As he closed his eyes for the night, he saw Draco's face in the darkness. Their relationship had been so slow in developing. First, the friendship, which he'd seemed to resist. And then that jump into the physical.

Harry bit his lip. He didn't understand Draco most of the time. That nibble on his lower lip after Harry'd kissed him, Apparating away before Harry could get his wits about him. Greeting him at the door in an old pullover and a pair of boxers. And later that night, giving him the best snogging Harry'd had in over a year. It had been a gentle, awkwardly passionate thing, as if he were determined to do it right—not in technique, but in feeling, something the Draco Malfoy he'd known back in school couldn't have been capable of. But then again, this Malfoy wasn't that old one. It was something he was reminded of nearly every day.

Harry sighed and rolled over. His bed was much too big. Everything in this house was too big for him. He wanted to share this space more often. He wanted to wake to see Draco's blond hair on the pillow next to his, shining in the morning sun. He wanted to see the angles of his body underneath the crisp sheet. But it had been nearly three months since they'd crossed the line over from friends, and they still hadn't slept together. Hell, they hadn't even slept over yet. He knew Draco'd slept with other men, that it wasn't something to do with coming to terms with his sexuality. He'd done that back at Hogwarts, more than ten years before Harry had even put together his own feelings on the matter. But if he was nothing else, Draco was cautious. No, that wasn't it. He was guarded. Harry could understand that. He just wished it wasn't so pervasive, that Draco could recognise when he was safe and act accordingly.

~*~

Friday night found them once again at the Briarwood Pub, sitting at a table in the far corner, away from the Muggles flirting and trying to pick up someone to take home, or yelling at the television when the wrong team scored. This had become something of a tradition between them, shedding their robes and meeting at the pub after the working week was done. Harry waved Draco over when he entered, gesturing to the food and first round of drinks already waiting for them. "Work keep you late?"