Piece of Your Heart ✔️

Chapter 3

Harry was the first to wake the next day. He was extremely surprised to find Draco still cuddled up into him. He watched the other man sleeping in his arms for a few minutes. He couldn't help it. Draco looked so peaceful and worry free. Harry wondered if that was how he himself looked when he slept. Even in sleep however, his problems still plagued him. He couldn't seem to outrun them.

He ran a hand over his face and tried to recount what he had dreamt about and drew a blank. It was then that he realized his glasses were no longer on his face. He hadn't meant to fall asleep with them on. Carefully, Harry tried to feel around the bed for them, not wanting to wake Draco. His eyes drifted to the man beside him once again, when he noticed his glasses neatly folded on the dresser next to Draco.   A large smile grew on his face at the thought of Draco carefully removing his glasses so as not to wake him.

"Accio glasses," Harry whispered quietly.

Now that he was able to see, the clock next to him informed him that it was after noon. He could not believe that he had slept that long. He knew he got at least 7 hours, but he was unsure of the time he dozed off. Harry didn't know if it was because of Draco's presence in the house or in his bed that led to more hours of sleep but he wasn't complaining.

Draco smelt good, he was soft, and brought Harry a sense of comfort he didn't know he could feel after the war. He wanted to make Draco a nice breakfast as a thank you. Harry wouldn't directly say what it was for, but he figured Draco's first night in the house was enough of an excuse to make him a little surprise.

The issue however, was getting out of Draco's hold without waking him up. Harry painstakingly slid out of his grasp inch by inch, and placed his pillow in Draco's now empty arms, immediately missing the feeling of his embrace.

"Maybe I should've just stayed in bed," he thought.

Shaking his head, Harry made his way down to the kitchen. He had asked Kreacher to stock up on ingredients the day before so he was ready. Harry had spent so much time watching Malfoy over the years to the point where he knew the other man's eating habits almost as well as his own.

He cast a silencing charm around the kitchen so he could be as loud as necessary and not have to worry about waking him up. By the looks of the bags under his eyes, Draco was getting less sleep than Harry was.

Harry put some music on and fell into his familiar cooking pattern. He danced across the kitchen, singing along to whatever came on his playlist. He threw the kettle on to make some tea and grabbed bacon, eggs, and bread while it began to heat up.

"What do I feel like having today?," he asked himself, as hopped up on the counter.

He started questioning whether he wanted regular toast or French toast, realizing he actually didn't know what Draco preferred aside from his regular meals. Wanting to do something special, Harry decided on French toast coming to the conclusion that if Draco didn't like it, a few slices of bread could simply be dropped into the toaster.

Harry couldn't believe that he actually felt somewhat refreshed as he went through making breakfast. He almost felt... alive again. It was so strange and he didn't know how to cope with it aside from singing his heart out.

As Little Things by a boyband called One Direction came on, he couldn't help but smile as he thought about Draco still sleeping in his bed. He was so happy to be able to finally call Draco a friend after all these years. Harry wished the other man knew how many hours he spent replaying that one small moment in his head, wondering what would've changed.

He shook his head. Draco was right. Honestly he usually was, but he would never admit it to the other man. There's no good dwelling on what could have been. Harry would rather focus on what could be.