Meet me at Midnight - drarry fic

Harry i: brain fog

Harry brewed himself a coffee and tried to clear his mind of the conversation he'd just had. Malfoy... What was up with him? Harry had never seen him as happy as he was last night, but, the second he woke up, he retreated back inside his shell. He had come back into the kitchen...why? Desperate for a fight? Maybe. But he seemed like he thought Harry should be mad at him anyway. Did he seriously think Harry cared about what happened five years ago? There was a moment, earlier, where he seemed more carefree, like there might be a reason he'd woken up in his so called 'enemies' apartment other than chance, but it passed. And then he left, walked straight into the freezing rain. Harry hoped he wouldn't be too cold out there.
I should have offered him a coat.
He would have said no, wants nothing to do with me.
Still.
Because, no matter what Malfoy said, Harry just couldn't believe that last night was a mistake.
Because it was the first time I've felt okay in a long time.
And it was Draco Malfoy that made me feel better.
                                              *****
Harry returned to his bedroom in search of clean clothes, and pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie. While tidying up the tornado Malfoy had left in his search for his clothes, he discovered a small white business card with the words:
Draco Malfoy
Assistant Alchemist
Ministry of Magic HQ
London
carved into it. There was a number for a muggle phone scrawled at the bottom in familiar handwriting. Although muggle phones were now standard issue for all Ministry workers, Harry only used his on the very rare occasions he would call his cousin, Dudley, to catch up, and those conversations were few and far between. He doubted Malfoy ever really used his, he was a born-and-bred wizard who had never truly lived in the muggle world.
        No matter how silly it seemed, Harry felt a strong urge to call the number and talk to his...enemy? Lover? Friend? one more time. Malfoy couldn't really think they could go back to 'normal'. Until last night, Harry had been convinced Malfoy hated him, but you didn't tend to wake up in the same bed as your enemies. They hadn't talked before last night, aside from the odd 'Hello' in the Ministry corridors, since leaving Hogwarts, four years ago. They had talked more in the last hour than in the last four years.
       Harry snapped out of his daydreaming with a start. It was almost 11 - almost time to pick Ginny up from the station.
Shit. Ginny. What am I going to do?
Don't tell her. You can't.