Only Us Under the Castle [Drarry]

Isolation

The months passed by, summers turned to winter. Harry and Draco met every weekend, or at least tried. Part of him felt it was more him than Draco, but it was fine.

Harry leaned back in his chair, flipping through the pages of his Transfiguration textbook. "So, Draco, what do you want to do for our weekly date this weekend?"

Draco glanced up from his Potions essay, a slight frown marring his features. "Oh, um... I don't think I can make it this weekend," he replied, avoiding Harry's gaze.

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. "I, uh, I promised Pansy and Blaise I'd go to Hogsmeade with them," he lied, forcing a smile. "You know how it is, can't let my friends down."

Harry's expression softened, though a hint of disappointment flickered in his eyes. "Oh, right. Well, we can always do something next weekend, then."

Draco nodded, relief flooding through him. "Yeah, next weekend sounds good."

Harry sighed and then started doodling on his book, a habit he recently picked up. He suddenly grinned and started drawing on Draco's arm with the ink. A cute little snake. Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't pull away, letting Harry's playful side take over for the moment.

"Perfect for a Slytherin," Harry said, admiring his work. "What do you think?"

Draco glanced at the little snake, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Not bad, Potter. You've got some hidden talents."

Harry chuckled. "I always knew I'd make a great artist." He looked up at Draco, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Want me to draw something else?"

Draco smirked, but there was a tightness to it. "Sure, as long as it's not a lion. I've had enough of Gryffindor pride for one day."

Harry laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the room. "Alright, no lions." He started drawing a small dragon on Draco's arm, concentrating hard on the details.

As Harry worked, Draco watched him, a mixture of affection and guilt swirling in his chest. *Why does he have to be so bloody perfect?* he thought, feeling the weight of his secrets pressing down on him.

"There," Harry said proudly, pulling back to show off his handiwork. "A dragon for Draco."

Draco looked at the dragon, then back at Harry. "Not bad, Potter. You might have a future in tattoo artistry."

Harry laughed again, but the sound was tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Maybe. If this whole wizarding thing doesn't work out, I'll consider it."

Draco chuckled, but the sound felt hollow. He could see the flicker of something in Harry's eyes—something that told him Harry was feeling the distance between them. But Draco wasn't ready to bridge that gap, not now, not with everything hanging over him.

"So," Harry said, trying to keep the mood light, "you've got any other plans for the weekend besides Hogsmeade?"

Draco shook his head. "Not really. Just the usual. Maybe catch up on some reading." He forced another smile. "You know how it is."

Harry nodded, but the isolation he felt didn't go away. He chose not to ask Draco about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his emotional bullshit. "Well, if you get bored, you know where to find me."

"Of course," Draco replied, his voice smooth but distant.

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Later that weekend, Harry went to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione. As they were settling down at the Three Broomsticks, Hermione started ordering butterbeers. While she did, Harry spotted Draco sitting alone at a corner table, his eyes scanning the room until they locked onto Harry's. Draco gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, which Harry returned with a puzzled look.