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Chapter 7 - What kind of friend?

The last day of camp had come. Harry felt elated to leave the prison, as did many of the students. The coach trip back home felt quick too, which improved Harry's mood more so.

Unlocking his front door, Harry raised his arms in happiness and almost ran towards to kitchen, pretending to cheer for himself. The words 'You Survived!' rang though his head, and what a wonderful melody it was.

"Greetings, Potter." A disembodied voice suddenly called out. Harry's arms and face dropped like a bomb. He could recognise that voice from anywhere. Dread and delight welled up inside Harry's heart.

It was Draco.

"D-Draco? What are you doing here?" Interrogated Harry, turning to face the platinum haired man. Draco took a small step towards Harry.

"I came to welcome you back, of course. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't?"

Heat spread across Harry's face. Of course, they were friends. Nothing more. There would never be any other reason Draco would visit Harry, would there?

Attempting to hide his disappointment, Harry plastered a smile on his face.
"Haha of course!" He beamed. Silence soon followed.

"...Er, fancy a cup of tea?" Harry awkwardly offered, pulling some mugs out of a cupboard. Draco nodded and uncomfortably shuffled. "I shouldn't have came here, it's obvious he doesn't want me around. I should just leave." Mused Draco as he was given the warm cup of tea. Sipping it, he studied Harry.

His hair was a complete mess, all ruffled up and curly, as though he was a doll who's hair was rushed. Harry's face would have been made with effort and care, every corner and curve precise and perfect, much like his mind and body. His hair on the other hand... not so much. It took Draco all his effort not to just reach out and flatten it down a bit.

"Draco, what are you doing to my hair?"

Draco's efforts weren't enough. Unconsciously, he had reached out to Harry and stroked his hair. Harry's face was crimson red, as was Draco's. Choking on his drink, Draco quickly struggled to come up with an excuse.

"Um, some of it was just sticking up at the back, so I thought I would fix it for you. Sorry, I should have asked first." Draco quickly mumbled. A grateful smile toyed on Harry's lips.

"Oh really? Can you continue to fix it then? I don't want to go round looking like an idiot." Harry calmly said, despite the screams of happiness that way rushing through his head. Draco meekly nodded.

As he patted down Harry's hair, he was surprised at how soft it was. He stepped even closer to Harry, and being unable to stop himself, ran his hands slowly through Harry's hair. Harry looked him in the eye, his face clearly shocked.

"It's so soft... so soft and fluffy," Draco softly whispered, placing down his tea. Harry looked at his feet while Draco brought his other hand through Harry's hair. Harry's brain was telling him to make Draco stop, but instead, Harry stepped even closer to Draco, leaning into his slender hands. The two of them were so closer that Harry could feel Draco's warm, gentle breathe lap against his cheek. Draco held Harry's face and lovingly stroked his cheek with his thumb. Their lips brushed together, making Harry's breathe hitch. Being unable to stand them not being any closer, Draco melted into Harry's lips. Their kiss was soft and tender, but it barely scratched the lust and loneliness bubbling beneath the surface. They were both hungry for each other. They were both too scared to admit it.

Eventually, their lips parted. Harry let out a sigh he didn't even realise he was holding. Neither of them said a word, but instead, Draco wrapped his arms tightly around Harry's waist and pulled him in closer. Resting his head on his shoulder, Draco planted a sweet kiss on Harry's neck. Harry faintly moaned as Draco's kiss continued. Draco was going to leave his mark on Harry, making sure everyone knew he was taken. Once the hickey had formed on Harry's neck, Draco let go of him.

"Your tea is getting cold." He said, winking at Harry. Breathlessly, Harry picked up the mug of tea and silently sipped from it. He taste could still the sweet flavour of strawberries and mint on Draco's lips. He could still smell Draco as though he was holding him again; parchment paper, wine, and pine trees. Draco was watching him, eyeing his every movement. Harry was shaking under the heat of Draco's eyes. He loved it. He had never found it so good until now. He was addicted to being the centre of Draco's attention.

When they had both finished their cups of tea, Draco decided it would be best if he would leave before they did something regrettable.

"I," Draco suddenly announced, "am going to go home. I will see you tomorrow?"

Harry was clearly upset but assured Draco he was planning to visit Hogwarts the next day. Content with the answer, Draco used the Floo network and got back to his office, leaving Harry standing alone in his kitchen holding two empty mugs of tea.