Draco Malfoy and The Aeternum Caput | Drarry

The undeniable truth

Harry woke up with the sunlight bothering his eyes until he decided to blink them open. He was feeling so relaxed that it was almost strange. He did not remember the last time he woke up felling this light and satisfied. It felt like the best sleep he had in ages, better than the potion induced ones, and definitely better than the heavy drinking induced ones.

Everything was blurry, so he felt around trying to find his glasses. When the room came into focus, the first thing he saw was the figure of Draco Malfoy, sleeping at his side. He was half covered with the sheets, but his chest was showing, with the silver scars glistening in the sunlight. Only Draco's face, looking completely at peace, was still in the shadow and maybe that was the reason he hadn't woken up yet. After all the hurting Harry had seen in Draco's face in the last days, that peaceful expression he had now put Harry's heart at ease for the first time since he met Draco again.

Harry's first reaction was smiling. Draco looked like someone drawn out of a renaissance painting. Beautiful, with his pale skin glowing in the soft morning light. But Harry's second reaction was panicking. After a couple of minutes staring at Draco's perfect sleeping form, Harry's mind gathered enough conscience to remember what happened on the previous night. It started with tipsy Draco stumbling into the stairs. Then it led to Harry staring at his perfect lips, wondering how they'd feel. Then Harry had touched Draco's lips and kissed Draco's lips in a drunken impulse. Then there was Draco kissing him back in a way that made his knees yield. Then...

– Oh my God. Fuck! – Harry whispered, staring at Draco again, remembering so many things at once, that his head started to spin.

He remembered how Draco shut him up with those teasing kisses. He remembered Draco taking off his shirt and digging his nails in Harry's back. He remembered Draco getting him up the stairs, and into his room. He remembered Draco's golden flames, flaring up every time Harry hit his right spots. He remembered the way Draco's voice sounded when calling his name, the way Draco had looked under him, the way Draco had asked him to...

– Fuck! – Harry had not many words in his vocabulary right now.

I'm so fucked! Hermione is going to kill me for this. That was Harry's third reaction. He had just done what Hermione asked him not to: let his feelings mix into the case. And that was some heavy mixing between feelings and case because he had just slept with his main investigator.

God, this can't be happening. Harry got up and, without knowing what to do, he started do get dressed. Draco was fast asleep, and Harry had absolutely no courage to wake him up. He found his wand and casted a tempus charm. It was 9:30. Harry hadn't slept this late since Voldemort had returned.

Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Again, not many words in Harry Potter's vocabulary at the moment.

Harry could not find his shirt for the life of him, and then he remembered it was still down at the stairs. He went for the door, but before opening it, he turned to face Draco's sleeping form.

Why did I let this happen? Harry asked himself.

But that perfect Draco, peacefully sleeping right before his eyes was reason enough in his mind. He looked so damn beautiful! Harry wanted to stay, wanted to wake him up, and ask for pancakes. But he was way too scared of the speed his heart was beating right now, and he needed to figure out what the hell was going on. Harry needed to figure out what the hell he was feeling. Because he was feeling far too many things at once.

So Harry opened the door and walked out. He found his shirt, and his Auror robe and dressed up as fast as he could. He opened the front door feeling his heart clenching in his chest. This was wrong. He could not just leave! Wouldn't it make things worse? But what would he tell Draco? What did that even mean? Had Harry Potter really fallen in love with Draco Malfoy?