but those are the moments that harry looks forward to the most, humbled by the trust he’s being given.
drao tells him about goyle one.
harry tells him a story about the marauders.
(he ries during that oalks and talks and talks, until he realizes he’s rying and his voie isn’t oming out anymore, a to finish, but drao already knows the ending anyway.)
ohat november ends, harry is lounging on his—it hasn’t been ‘goyle’s’ for a while aring at the green urtains falling from the bed’s anopy. the olour is starting to grow o best on pale skin.
&hat astoria said disturbs me. she said she thought i might o talk to her, just beause she’s a slytheris, re-imagining that partiur memory.
drao looks up from his textbook, and tilts his head at the sudden topi. he is lying down on his bed, his hest oress, in ur unif throwhe hair. his hair is tousled fr over on the bed so muh, and harry’s been trying not to look (or stare) at him.
& exatly well-liked, potter. you know that best.”
harry smiles wryly, reallier dislike he used to have for anybreen. then, he realls drao in the manor, narissa i, ahe shrieking shak. “i also k, now, that hing is as simple as bk and white.” he g drao. “i’m still alive beause of a lot of slytherins, you know.”
one edge of drao’s lips quirk up into a small smile, as if he’s still amused that harry’s still gl them. “there o be a vilin in a ’s what we’re here for,” he murmurs, eyes traveling to his lothed arm. “that’s how the bane works.”
harry follows his eyes with his own and takes a deep breath. “the s hat ut me in slytherin.”
&ely, drao’s head shoot up. he’s staring at harry i?”
harry grins at him. “i told him i didn’t wa here.”
“you an hoose?”
& is our hoies that make us who we are.”
“doo be wise, potter. it’s unbeoming.”
harry bursts into ughter.
drao shakes his head. “i an’t imagine you as a slytherin.”
“really? we would have been roommates.”
“yeah. we would have.”
& through first year. you were a bak then.”
“i…” drao starts, and then pauses. he huffs. “am i not anymore?”
and harry hears the hiddeion a him. “less.”
drao’s heeks are piands up, takes his robes from the bak of his hair, and unfolds it. “try on my lothes.”
it’s a ommand, , and harry stands up eagerly. if he’s being ho with himself, he just likes the thought ohes. he shrugs off his own robes, and puts on the offered one slowly.
it smells like drao. like hand ream a.
he swallows thikly, and looks up to omment that they’re a bit tight, but dra at him, stunned and speehless.
harry feels his o.
“it looks…nie on you.”
“be areful, malfoy. i might just o a ompliment.”
&ing, he knows, but drao seems to realize what he had just said and his heeks go red and harry a.
he grabs his owhe bed, rosses the room, pulls at drao’s shoulder to turn him around, ahe big smile that slides its way to his lips ly lets him.
“try mine.”
drao makes a fae. “i absolutely an’t imagine myself in gryffindor,” he says, but he’s raising his arms, letting harry slip the sleeves onto them.
“me her.”
“i an’t imagine you iher.”
“really? i’m pretty unning.” aurning draaiely aware that drao an put the robes on his owing him, and so harry takes what he’s being given.
“i word i’ll think to desribe you with.”