Sensitive Touch

Chater 9: Heart to Heart

Harry had slowed to a walk, mulling things over as he headed to the Room of Requirement.

He supposed he shouldn't have run out, but he couldn't stand the tension in the room. He'd kept the severity of his childhood so well hidden, to have it all just written out on parchment in a few minutes felt like an insult to his effort.

He had a sense of peace of mind now that he had a reason for his symptoms. It was strangely calming to put a name to his struggles, although he probably should've asked for advice on how to deal with them now that he was thinking about it. It felt like the missing link to most everything he's ever known about himself. He'd ask Hermione, when she was preferably alone, later, he decided vaguely as he turned the corner into the seventh floor corridor.

He reached the middle of the hall, paced three times requesting his safe space like a mantra in his head. He simply wanted to be alone for a bit. The great door appeared, large and gothic.

He pushed it open and was met with the sight of a cozy common room with a large desk and bookshelves. This definitely wasn't his room, but it wasn't necessarily bad. It hit him suddenly that there had to be somebody else in there if it wasn't responding to him. He stepped further beyond the threshold, looking around cautiously.

There was a click of dress shoes from behind the bookshelves, making Harry freeze were he stood. Draco Malfoy's pointed face peered around the edge curiously, his brows raised.

"Oh it's you." Draco breathed, brushing his loose sweeping bangs away from his eyes.

Harry cocked his head, admiring the way the silver in Draco's eyes glinted in the low light of the room.

"You look ruffled Potter, are you alright?" Draco pointed out before Harry could even attempt to offer to leave, stepping out from behind the bookshelf and toward Harry. His stomach clenched at the sight of the taller man.

Harry refocused his eyes onto the book in Draco's hand. "Er- yeah..."

Draco pulled out a chair at the large desk and sat down lackadaisically, "That's a lie, you destroyed half McGonagall's tea sets." he gestured to the seat across from him with a nod of his head, "Care to talk about it?"

Harry set his satchel on the table and sunk down into the aforementioned chair.

"I keep forgetting we're friends now." Harry chuckled awkwardly.

"That's understandable, considering everything..." Draco hummed.

"I'm glad though."

"Hmm?"

"That we're friends."

"Ah."

Harry scratched his jaw, watching Draco skim through his book. His large pale hands and long elegant fingers gracefully parting the pages. He mentally cursed himself again, he kept noticing more and more things that he thought attractive about Draco and it scared him.

"Is there something on my face Potter?" Draco drawled sarcastically, slate grey eyes flicking up to meet avid green ones.

"Aren't you going to ask me to talk about what happened?" he inquired on a whim, trying not to stare at the blushy pink of Draco's knuckles against his alabaster skin.

Draco's brow cocked attractively, his tongue darted out to wet his full lips before he spoke. "Well you avoided the question the first time I asked so I figured you didn't want to talk about it."

Harry appreciated that very much, but he now had the sudden urge to talk to Draco and get a second opinion on the situation. "Well I'm going to tell you anyway because I need to process it."