in a way, they had worked out, beause now here he was, still buzzing with the magi of the vow, sitting aross from drao malfoy like they were frie were, aime, they would be. they had their whole lives to work that situation out. but part of him wondered why he had do. of ourse, there was the ohat he had made to mgonagall, the one he knew beyond a doubt was true; he was ih drao malfoy. but it was hardly o from onfessing ohe first time out loud to vowing to protet them, now and forever more, i was a bit romeo a of him, he had to admit. and evehat his feeliirely ued, he ould feel he had rushed.
then agaio be expeted of him? his whole life had been rushed. he went from being a nle kid to bei famous wizard ied kingdom, and possibly the world, ihan a day. he beame the yes in a simir way. he went from an orphan to having sirius to being an ain ihe shortest time period imaginable. his whole life happeoo fast, a learo make deisions in a timely, well thought out manner. he had o develop the skill of thinking thi had always been hermione’s job.
there was a lot on his mind, to be sure, but the thought that most oupied him was how diffiult he was finding it not to stare at drao’s fae. he knew he had forever ao memorize it all, but what he wa han anything was to walk aross to where drao sat and hold his fae between his hands and just look at him. look at him and run his fihe lines of his heekbones, his nose, his lips. of ourse, he koo well what drao looked like, but he never bee look like he wao. like he khat he was being ho to himself, that he always wao.
“potter,” drao said suddenly from where he sat in his armhair, eyes losed as he rest his head on his hand.
“hmm?”
“stop wathing me.”
“i’m not.”
“you are so,” drao replied, opeo look at the other man. “you have guilt written all over your fae. and don’t at like i don’t know what that looks like, i pratially have a dotorate iing your faial expressions. why are y, potter?”
&hought i’d see yain,” harry said, finally, iger in his stomah as he admitted it.
“there were photos,” drao said, though harry ould hat ame to his heeks as he spoke.
“not as good,” harry replied. “besides, they don’t look like you do now.”
“yeah? is how i look er or worse?” drao shough harry ould tell his heart wasn’t in it.
“is that eveion? have you seen you?”
“i don’t think i look all that different,” draed.
harry knew he had brought this oion upo he felt he was getting too lose to saying too muh. he stood up, paiwo armhairs. when his bak oke.
“you look—i keep telling myself you must be a ghost. or some extremely iive mirror of erised-esque visioellihe &urn around, you’ll be gone. or i’ll be havi of luidity i. mungo’s bed i’m urrently strapped into,” harry rambled, turning to find drao had also stood from his seat.
“so i look like a ghost?” drao said, approahing harry slowly.
“no, that’s not what i meant. i mean, you’re pale, but—” harry trailed off again as drao took his arm by the wrist.
drao took harry’s ha o.
“you’re hahrough, does it?” drao asked, his voie impossibly soft.
“no,” harry whispered. drao’s sweater was thihaed, and he ould feel the heat from his body bleeding through against his hand.
drao ped his other hand over harry’s, pressing it agai harder.
“abeat, don’t i?” drao asked.
“yes.”
“do i feel like a ghost, potter?”
harry shook his head in the ive.
“and what about a vision?” drao asked, studying harry arefully. “is this that you’d see in the mirror?”
drao’s tone ant, but harry ould see i he wahe ao be yes, he wahing harry longed for most in the world. and of ourse the answer was yes, but old habits die hard a giving drao aories, no matter how small.
“no,” he said, pausing, and drao’s shoulders fell, only slightly, before he omposed himself, a bit muarded than before.
& a vision, obviously,” he said, his voie tight around his nonhane.
“if this were the mirror, you’d be shorter,” harry said.
drao sension falling from him.
“what? if i were having to onjure you up from memory, do you really think i’d give you this many advahe height, the hair, the—” harry trailed off, and in a mad moment of bravery, ran a finger along drao’s heekbo hanged muh iime si seen him, but they were still beautiful, and unfairly so. “i think i’d imagine you more in my league.”
“as if i ever was,” drao smiled, pressio harry’s hand.
harry paused, seeing himself as if from the outside, one hand on drao’s hest, the other on his heek, aruk with the improbability of this very m real. a was.
“what are we doing?” harry whispered, his eyes darting from drao’s eyes down to his lips.
“don’t at like you didly where this was goi yht up the bloody album.”
“i wasn’t sure if you wao go there, still,” harry replied.