A New Chapter at Hogwarts [Drarry]

Chapter 39: A Heartbeat Away

Draco stood in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with an air of uncertainty that felt foreign and uncomfortable. He adjusted the cuff of his shirt for what had to be the hundredth time, though he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong with it. His clothes were impeccable as always—a perfectly pressed charcoal grey shirt, the sleeves fastened neatly with polished silver cufflinks, and his tailored trousers fitted to perfection. His pale blond hair was styled neatly, not a strand out of place, and yet his fingers fidgeted restlessly, smoothing fabric, tugging at the collar of his shirt as though it suddenly didn't sit right.

He let out a breath, long and slow, trying to release the tension that had been building in his chest all morning. It coiled tightly under his ribs, refusing to be shaken off, and no amount of fiddling with his appearance seemed to help. Nerves were not something Draco Malfoy allowed himself to feel, not usually, but today was different. Today, he and Harry were going to the Burrow for Ginny Weasley's birthday—a simple enough occasion, perhaps, but it felt monumental to Draco for reasons he wasn't entirely ready to voice.

Behind him, Harry sat on the edge of the bed, lacing up his shoes. Draco could feel Harry's gaze on him, warm and attentive, as though Harry were quietly watching for the moment Draco would crack under the weight of his unspoken anxieties. Harry had always had a way of knowing when something was off with him, when Draco's mind spun too quickly or when the tension in his chest became too tight. And, as always, Harry knew exactly when to step in.

"You're going to end up wearing that cuff out before we even leave," Harry teased softly, the affection clear in his voice as he stood and crossed the room with easy grace. He stopped just in front of Draco, gently batting Draco's hands away from his shirt cuffs and taking over the task himself, his fingers deftly straightening the fabric that didn't need straightening. "Come on, you look great. You always do."

"You say that now," Draco muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of self-consciousness and amusement, "but we're about to spend the entire weekend at the Burrow, and I'm... well, I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for it."

Harry's hands slid from Draco's cuffs to his collar, adjusting it with the same gentle precision, his green eyes flicking up to meet Draco's in the mirror. Harry wore a simple dark green jumper that complemented his eyes perfectly, along with fitted jeans and black boots. He looked effortlessly handsome, as he always did, but more importantly, he looked at Draco like he was all that mattered.

"They love you, you know," Harry said, his voice gentle but firm as he adjusted Draco's collar one final time. "Molly's practically adopted you at this point. She writes to you more often than she writes to me, and I've known her for years. You've completely won her over."

Draco let out a breathy chuckle, though it was tinged with nervousness. "I know," he murmured, his grey eyes flicking back to his own reflection. "It's just that... today is different. What if it doesn't go well?"

Harry moved his hands to Draco's shoulders, his thumbs brushing soothingly against the base of Draco's neck as he turned him around to face him fully. "It'll go well," he said, his voice unwavering. "We don't have to tell everyone right away—just the Weasleys today. We'll start slow. You don't have to worry."

Draco swallowed, his nerves gnawing at him from the inside out, despite Harry's reassurances. He wasn't used to this, to feeling exposed. The Weasleys had been kind to him, but sharing the news about him and Harry—about their relationship—felt like an entirely new level of vulnerability.

Before Draco could voice his anxieties again, Harry leaned in and kissed him softly. It was a kiss that didn't demand anything, didn't rush, but instead, anchored Draco in the present. It was slow and warm, the kind of kiss that spoke of patience and understanding. When Harry finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead to Draco's, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.