Chapter Text
Harry woke up one Saturday morning in January to the curtains around his twin bed pulled shut, the sounds of Neville and Seamus snoring battling to be heard over the songbirds outside the dormitory window. He’d had the same dream all week – not just a dream, but the memory of a moment he couldn’t forget no matter how hard he tried.
It had happened in the library at one of the sets of couches along the back wall. He’d been struggling with an essay for Arithmancy while Theo sat beside him on the couch, relaxed back against the armrest, and reading a book for Muggle Studies. In a moment of frustration, Harry leaned back and ended up somehow resting on Theo’s chest rather than the back of the couch.
“Sorry–”
“It’s fine,” Theo said without looking up from his book. He’d reached out a hand to guide Harry back to his chest, and Harry let himself get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he could without making it unnecessarily obvious that he quite enjoyed being in that position.
Deciding he didn’t want to make a bigger fuss by moving, Harry pulled his parchment and a book into his lap, intent on finishing his essay and not focusing his attention on the beat of Theo’s heart. Not once did its rhythm speed up or skip even the slightest of beats.
For several minutes, they sat like that, with Harry resting his head on Theo’s chest as the pair went about their schoolwork as if nothing had changed. He’d just begun to truly relax into the idea of being so close to Theo being normal when Theo’s hand moved from his chin to Harry’s head, where he idly began playing with Harry’s hair.
It had been… nice. Nicer than Harry anticipated. And that was probably why he let it carry on for nearly another hour, neither of them speaking while Harry silently wondered how long he should let it go on.
But then the bell rang for dinner, and Theo sighed as he closed his book, leaning forward to tuck it into his bag. Harry had to sit up to give him room to move, and they walked to the Great Hall, making small talk about classes and the state of Harry’s essay. When they reached the Great Hall, Theo turned left to the Slytherin table, and Harry continued on to where Neville, Hermione, and Seamus sat, waiting for him.
Harry didn’t tell them what happened. And for the last several days, he’d been unable to so much as look at Theo without thinking about the way his hands had felt in his hair. Whenever he did let himself look at Theo, whether it be across the Great Hall or during classes, he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on other parts of the boy Harry had never let himself look at.
It was obvious when Theo’s smiles were genuine and when they were false. There was something about the way his hazel eyes caught the light that gave him away. The war had stripped him of the soft edges he’d once had, leaving behind something lean and almost angular in his appearance. And his jawline – Harry found himself thinking about what it would feel like to run his thumb along it. His fingers, too. He wanted to feel Theo’s fingers in his hair. Or other places, if he were open to that. Maybe.
Blinking up at the canopy above his bed, Harry told himself the same thing he’d been telling himself every morning since that moment in the library: that he needed to get up and get over it. Nothing had happened, and it meant nothing, so he should stop letting his mind take him to places he had no business being.
With a groan, Harry pulled himself out of bed and donned comfortable clothes that would keep him warm on his broom. Perhaps some time in the sky would help clear his mind. Besides, almost everyone would be heading to Hogsmeade soon, and if luck were on his side, Theo would be with them. He distracted himself with several laps around the Quidditch pitch before breakfast, chasing the rising sun around in circles until he couldn’t remember which way was up and which way was down.
The Gryffindor Tower was empty when he returned, with the other students already in the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry took his time showering, letting the hot water relax his tense muscles and wash away the feeling of Theo touching him in his dreams. He dressed slowly, praying that most students would have left or found other places to be by then. Only Hermione and a few Third Years remained at the Gryffindor table.
“Thanks,” Harry said as he sat down beside her, and she slid a plate of toast and eggs in front of him.
“I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to keep a magic castle from vanishing a plate of food when breakfast is finished,” she said, not looking up from the copy of the Daily Prophet she had open on the table. “But I nearly caused a scene making sure you ate.”
Harry kept his eyes focused on his plate and offered Hermione a good-natured laugh. He didn’t need to look up to know that Theo was still sitting on the other side of the room, elbowing Blaise Zabini in the side for something he said while Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson laughed.
All things considered, everyone who had returned for Eighth Year had done so with the intention of making every effort possible to get along. And, for the most part, it worked. Some, like Hermione and Malfoy, ended up getting on within the first few weeks of classes. Even Pansy and Neville seemed to have developed their own inside jokes, and Seamus thought Blaise was funny enough. Group trips to Hogsmeade now included the very people who had once made them nearly unbearable.
That, of course, left Harry and Theo. While they’d quickly found themselves drawn to one another, the friendship part had come slowly. Deliberately, if Harry was being honest. Unlike everyone else, Theo didn’t try to force apologies or conversations about what could have been different. He also didn’t look at Harry as if he were some kind of hero or, more accurately, a pawn in a Dark Wizard’s game that happened to win by chance.
Theo treated him the same way he treated everyone else: with mild indifference that sometimes had a touch of unexpected affection. He also never offered up a long-winded explanation for why he’d been involved in the war in the way he had. In fact, it’d taken Harry asking him sometime around Halloween while the two sat in the library after hours, studying for Potions, for Theo to tell him about his parents and his childhood.
But there was so much more that Harry didn’t know. So much more that he wanted to feel – to taste.
Harry didn’t realize he’d been looking at Theo until their eyes met across the room. Malfoy threw something at Zabini, Hermione scolded a Second Year Hufflepuff for running down the aisle, and all that Harry could see was the slight smile that graced Theo’s lips. Warm morning sunshine filtered through the windows, splashing across Theo’s face like gold. His mouth went dry.
Bloody Hell. He’d gone from questioning the normalcy of wanting his friend to play with his hair again to practically drooling over his toast with one glance. If this was how the rest of the year was going to be, Harry wasn’t sure he’d make it to the end.
“–Harry?”
“Hmm?” He turned to face Hermione, who stared at him with an eyebrow raised.
“I asked if you were coming to Hogsmeade today,” she repeated as she folded up the newspaper.
“Oh, ah–” He scratched the back of his neck. “I hadn’t decided, actually.”
Harry had survived more attempts on his life than most people his age, and yet not knowing whether he wanted to be as far away from Theo as possible or pressed up against him felt like the most personal and worst kind of attack.
“Are you feeling alright?” Hermione narrowed her eyes and leaned a bit closer, studying him. “You’ve been acting odd all week.”
“I’m perfectly fine–”
“Are you guys coming?” The sound of Theo’s voice shouldn’t have made Harry’s cock twitch. Right?
He looked up to see Theo standing on the other side of the table, his hair messy as always and pushed out of his eyes. Theo nodded his head in the direction of the doors, where everyone else waited.
“Harry isn’t sure if he’s coming,” Hermione stood up from the bench and reached for her coat.
“Oh.” Theo’s smile faltered slightly. “Long night?”
Harry didn’t know what Theo meant by that. He wondered if it had something to do with the slight bags beneath Theo’s eyes that mirrored the ones beneath his own.
“Early morning, actually,” Harry said because it was true. “And, I’ll hang back today. You’ll have much more fun without me.”
Theo’s eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head to the side. If Harry didn’t know any better, he would think Theo was smirking at him. He needed to look away – to break eye contact and get his erratically beating heart under control.
“I doubt that,” Theo said, tucking his hands into his pockets. “Come on, Harry. I need help finding a book for Muggle Studies.”
He knew it was a lie. They’d spent enough time in the library for Harry to know that Theo had all of the required reading material, as well as everything on the supplementary reading list.
“I’ll need to go get my coat.” Harry attempted to buy himself some time to pull himself together.
When he’d walked into the Great Hall, he’d planned on spending the day in Gryffindor Tower, hidden away in a corner where no one – where Theo – could see him. Now, as he stared at Theo’s expectant face, he thought some time outside might be good for him.
“I can wait,” Theo winked. “We’ve got the whole weekend.”
“Brilliant.” Harry suddenly worried his legs might give out when he stood up. “Meet you in the courtyard?”
Theo nodded, smiling first at Harry and then at Hermione before turning and making his way to where Malfoy waited by the doors.
“What was that about?” Hermione asked, glancing between Harry and Theo’s retreating figure. Harry pulled himself up from the bench and adjusted his glasses.
“When I figure it out,” he told her, reaching for his toast before it vanished along with the plate. “You’ll be the first to know.”
Harry kept his eyes focused on his feet as he made his way back to the dormitory to get his coat. He could handle a trip to Hogsmeade with Theo. And he wouldn’t let himself think about all the things that his lopsided smile made him want to do.