"It's time. My father wants me to come home," he whispered later as they met in the shadows. "I won't go, you know."
He knew this day would come, knew when he saw Malfoy’s owl soar into the Great Hall. “Are you sure?” He whispered.
Draco reached out, circling his fingers around Harry’s wrist. “I'm staying here. I promise.”
They looked at each for a long time, Harry finally the one to look away. “Okay.”
Harry wasn’t sure how it happened that Draco and he stopped being enemies. He couldn’t even explain what they were now -- friends, allies? He shook his head as he watched Draco leave, touching his cheek where Draco’s lips lightly brushed before he turned to go. All he knew was that things were different between them ever since he found Draco waiting for him outside the Charms classroom with a stricken look on his face.
It was the same night Pansy Parkinson was found, beaten and bruised by the edge of the forest. Harry never asked what brought Draco to tell him, in a shaky voice, that Pansy had fallen for a mudblood and that Slytherin paybacks were hell. He just nodded and watched Draco absently rub his bloody hands, as he quietly aksed Harry for help.
A year ago, six months ago, he would have turned Draco away, but war had changed everything. Harry thought he understood that fear he saw when he looked in Draco’s eyes, he saw it in his own every morning.
“That’s one of Malfoy’s owls, isn’t it? “
Harry looked up from his breakfast and watched the owl circle the Great Hall.
“It’s his father,” Harry said quietly, watching the owl loop and glide before dropping its message before Draco’s chair.
Ron scowled, “Dumbledore should send that cunt home. Nobody wants him here.”
“Ron!” Hermione looked aghast.
“What? Everyone knows he wants to be a Death Eater. Send him home to daddy so he can get his dark mark and save us all from having to look at his ugly face.”
“He doesn’t want to go,” said Harry, watching Draco as he crumpled the unopened letter and threw it on his dirty plate before storming out of the Great Hall.
“How do you know?” asked Ron. Harry tore his eyes away from Draco’s retreating figure to see Ron and Hermione watching him.
“Well, he’s still here, isn’t he? The others have already left.” It was true; many of the children of old pureblood families had already left Hogwarts presumably to join Voldemort, including a surprising number who weren’t Slytherins.
“Then he’s a spy,” said Ron before forcibly biting off a piece of his sausage.
Hermione said nothing, still watching Harry with a thoughtful expression on her face.
“What?” Harry asked testily, hating when she got that way.
She smiled, “It’s nothing, Harry. Really.”
That evening Harry met Draco again in the deserted Charms corridor. Draco kissed him on the mouth this time. Harry to his surprise didn’t push him away, rather he fell into the burning warmth that was Draco’s mouth, their tongues touching and seeking each other. Harry’s hands found their way to Draco’s face, as he pushed Draco back toward the wall hoping to get as much heat as he could, feeling more alive than he had since the war started, since ever.
They finally broke apart, their breathing jagged and Harry leaned his forehead onto Draco’s, his hands still cradling Draco’s face.
“Draco, You’ll be safe, I promise.” Because that’s what Harry does, he protects, he saves, he defeats Dark Lords.
Soon, more and more eagle owls came. Their majestic wings casting menacing black shadows as they flew throughout the school, always chasing, always looking.
"He can't have you," Harry bit Draco's shoulder, claiming him. "I won't..." They fucked hard that night, Draco shutting his eyes as he came.
Harry watched as Draco left his bed, leaving him forever.