You & I [Draco/Harry]

Chapter Eight

"It's so quiet here, and I feel so cold."

The morning had arrived and Draco was restlessly sleeping still on the couch, soon opening his eyes to the blinding sunlight. It was weird, he thought, how bright it was for winter. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around the living area, soon rising to sit up on the sofa, followed by standing up from the sofa. Not so long after, he headed to the hallway, walking down towards the bedroom. He didn't hear anything, and when he peered around the corner he saw Harry sitting up, hand rubbing his wrist as he stared at the duvet. He knocked on the doorframe, Harry's gaze directing towards him.

"Hey." Draco whispered.

"Hi." Harry replied, hoarse and afraid. It sounded as though he had been crying all night, and Draco didn't doubt for one second that he did exactly that.

"Are you hungry?" He asked. Harry shook his head. "Not even for a piece of toast?"

Harry shrugged.

"Toast it is, then." Draco said simply. He stepped into the room and Harry flinched, Draco was a total of eight feet apart from him and yet the simple action made him afraid. "It's okay. It's just me, Harry."

"Just you." Harry whispered, soon nodding. Draco frowned and headed over to the dresser, searching for one of his freshly pressed dress shirts and trousers. He heard the shuffling of the duvet behind him, before the sound of footsteps out the bedroom. Draco looked up to see a glimpse of Harry before he exited the room. He sighed and before walking out to check on him, he changed. When he entered the living area, he saw Harry standing near the island in their kitchen, staring down at The Daily Prophet paper. Amycus Crow was on the cover and Harry's jaw was clenched, hard.

"Harry." Draco said, startling the ravenette. "Don't look at that." He said, making a move closer to Harry to take the paper. Draco heard a small but sharp take of breath from Harry as he moved away and over to the other side of the island, gaze adverted to his hands which laid splayed across the cold counter. Draco sighed, rolling up the copy of the Prophet and placing it in the trash.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked softly, turning to look at his fiancé.

"What?" Harry breathed.

"What happened.." Draco whispered, watching as Harry avoiding eye contact. He shook his head, biting on the inside of his cheek as his hands rolled into fists. "Okay.. But, you know.. You have to tell the Minster."

That. That caught all of Harry's attention.

"No!" He protested. "Are you insane?! It would be all over the Prophet and I.. And he.. Crow, he'd.. I would,"

"Harry, calm down."

Harry shook his head furiously. "I can't. I can't tell the Minster. I can't do it."

"Alright. Harry, just,"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down, Malfoy! Don't. You. Fucking. Dare." Harry said. "I hurt. Every part of me hurts. I don't know.. I just.. I can't comprehend.. I'm not.. and I just," Harry brought his hands to his hair, elbows resting on the counter as he leaned forward, sobs racking his body as he was overwhelmed - as understated as that is. "I cant.. I don't want to think about it." He cried. Draco took a step toward him and he flinched, standing up straight with wide, teary eyes.