With Hope and Passion {Harry Potter}

Dire Consequences

Draco was sitting on his bed, staring into the pitch black night. He was trying to process what had happened with Harry. It was scary to think that something he had done could upset Harry so much. But then again, maybe it was a good sign. Harry had to feel a lot of emotion towards him to have such an intense reaction. It was certainly better than cold disdain.

Draco fell backward onto his pillow. He was uneasy and confused, and that only added to his feeling of exhaustion. He was soon drifting off to sleep, a blanket of unconsciousness enveloping him. Suddenly, he heard a stumbling gait coming down the hallway. He jerked awake and slipped out of bed, grabbing his wand on the way to the bedroom door. He peeked around the door frame and saw Harry's figure shuffling down the hall.

"Draco?" Harry whispered into the dark.

"That's me," Draco responded dryly, stepping fully out of his room.

"I'm so sorry," Harry's voice was quavering, "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"I know," Draco said, "I didn't either. Do you want to come talk in my room?"

"Alright," Harry replied.

They both tried to enter into the doorway at once, bumping into each other in the darkness. After some mumbled apologies, they got to the room, and sat down on the bed.

"Wh-," Draco began, but yawned before he could speak.

Harry gave a short laugh. Draco smiled, then realized Harry couldn't see him, and laughed as well. They started chatting, but Draco soon felt even more drowsy, and he fell asleep on Harry's shoulder, comforted by his voice as he nodded off.

Draco awoke the next morning to a feeling of near contentment. He looked next to him, but Harry wasn't there.

"He must have left after I fell asleep," thought Draco.

He dragged himself out of bed, almost as groggy and tired as when he went to sleep. He glanced out the window and saw that the sun had long since risen. He searched around for a clock, and read the time.

"10 o'clock? I haven't slept this late in years," he mused.

Draco put on a clean shirt and trousers, then wandered downstairs to search for Harry. He reached the bottom of the stairs and walked through the ground level.

He found Harry sitting in the drawing room, rapidly scribbling something into a notebook with a grey quill. Harry glimpsed Draco entering, pulled out his wand, and waved it at the notebook and quill, which both vanished.

"I was taking some notes for work," said Harry apologetically.

"Okay. It's rather late, but do you want breakfast?" Draco asked.

"Oh, I fixed myself something earlier, I hope you don't mind."

"Oh," said Draco. He didn't mind, but he didn't know how to respond.

Draco and Harry spent most of that day in silence. An unpleasant silence, filled with the tension of unspoken passion. They only talked when it was necessary, and avoided each other, which was more difficult than one would expect in a home as large as the Malfoys'.

It wasn't until late in the evening that Draco attempted to have a conversation. They both ended up in the dining room, and Harry was about to leave once he saw Draco.

"Harry, wait," Draco stepped toward him, placing his hand on Harry's forearm.

Harry froze, staring at Draco. Both were shocked at the touch of the other. Their eyes locked, and it seemed like they looked at each other for eternity. Then, almost involuntarily, Draco moved even closer, his chest brushing against Harry's, their noses nearly touching.

And in that split second, before Draco could back out, their lips crashed. Draco didn't know how long that kiss lasted, but he knew he would never forget it. When they finally broke away from each other, Draco thought he saw tears in Harry's eyes.

"I-I," Draco tried to speak, but didn't get the chance.

Harry backed out of the room, then turned and ran down the hall. Draco chased after him, but the sun had set, and he could barely see in the gloom. He slowed to a halt, and stood alone in the dark, panting.

He felt lost and tormented. Why did he ever think this would work? Why did he send that damned letter in the first place? It would have saved the both of them a lot of pain if he hadn't.

Draco collapsed to the ground and lay there curled up. He didn't know where to go or where to find Harry, and he had dropped his wand earlier. He was stuck in the shadows, with terror closing in on him from everywhere at once. He began to cry, and eventually he fell into a restless sleep.