Drarry Potions AU

Chapter Thirteen

Harry tried the three closest bathrooms before accio-ing the Marauder's Map to find him, which took another five minutes to scour the entire school.

So much for "hurrying back," he thought as he raced to the boys bathroom on the other side of the school. It was the least used one in the entire school---other than Moaning Myrtle's lavatory, of course.

When Harry finally reached it, he heard the faintest sounds of sobbing.

Draco was crying in a corner of the room, face buried in his robes.

Without actually thinking, Harry sat next to him silently, and pulled him onto his lap, hugging him as he paid Harry no mind until his tears stopped leaking.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Draco asked, sniffling, face still masked by his robes, causing his voice to be muffled.

"Coming after you, you git," was Harry's fond response, trying to catch his eyes and smile, but he continued to refuse to look at the Gryffindor.

"Why? Harry Potter going after Draco Malfoy?" The blonde snorted at the thought.

"C'mon, Draco---you'd have to be a fool not to know why. It's the very reason you fled, isn't it?" The realization of it shattered Harry's insides, making all of him feel splintered, like how your foot might feel when it fell asleep, but with his heart instead.

Draco didn't answer, and it was silent for a long while.

"Potter . . . can I ask you something?" he questioned, face no longer shrouded in robes, but avoiding Harry's eyes nonetheless.

"Sure." The simple word was soft, conveying a thousand emotions through just one syllable, whispered into the air, mixing with the steady dripping of a water faucet when someone hadn't turned it off all the way, and for some strange reason, it made Draco suck in a large, sharp breath before continuing.

"Yesterday---after you'd told me of the love potion---I tripped, and. . ." He new what he wanted to say but wasn't sure if he could say it, almost as though he'd forgotten which words he was supposed to use.

"Out with it, Malfoy---I was supposed to be back in class twenty minutes ago," Harry said, his voice almost teasing, would have been if it hadn't sounded so weak, if his voice hadn't cracked on the last word for no reason in particular.

"Were you going to kiss me?" Draco blurted into the silence between them in what felt like a sudden moment, a bad moment to do so, like he should've answered more evenly, like he should've either waited for the tension to build or answered it straight away. Like he should've maybe asked it more tentatively than accusingly.

The steady dripping of the water filled the silence, which was unbearably uncomfortable in a way that made it seem like neither of them should break the silence, or perhaps like maybe they should. Maybe they weren't sure how anymore. Maybe they'd both swallowed there tongues and that's why they couldn't bring themselves to open their mouths and talk. Like maybe if it stretched out the silence would become less anxious. Like maybe if it lasted long enough, the question hanging in the air would vanish.

It started to fade, making Draco feel like his consciousness was as well, like his eyelids should be drooping and his emotions should fade into darkness like the question seemed to be, as if he was tied to it somehow, like his life depended on it.

Perhaps that was because it was his heart asking the question, and not his mouth or mind. If the other boy answered no, it would shatter in an irreparable way.

It's not the end of the world. That's what everyone would tell him. You'll get over it. But that didn't feel true. Harry might as well have been shoved into his heart when he was born to make it beat. That was the only logical reason it sped up when he was around him.

"That depends, doesn't it?" Harry said thoughtfully, exploding the fuzzy silence in four swift words, practically whispered into nothingness but making everything focus at the same time, causing the strange hum in his ears disappear like the words that escaped Harry's lips had whisked them away on the sound waves travelling away from them.

"On what?" It was less than a whisper. More of a breath, or a puff of carbon dioxide that had the faintest hint of a noise tucked within it.

"Whether you wanted me to or not."

By the time the words formed in Draco's head, by the time he'd read them over, by the time he discovered what they meant, and by the time the translation had registered, Draco looked up and found himself alone and wondering if it had all just been a dream.