Work Text:
“Malfoy! Malfoy! Get out here, today’s the day!”
Draco closed his eyes shut tight, his face twisting up into a grimace. He pressed his back further into the wall of the supply cupboard, desperately hoping the shadows would swallow him whole. They didn’t, of course. The dusty remnants of the Auror’s stationary supplies couldn’t be relied on for anything, much less convenient escapes. That wouldn’t stop Draco from trying though.
“Oi!” The voice outside grew louder, and was followed by the familiar sound of the office door slamming open. Heavy boots ran across the floorboards, making the ground shake from the force of his partner’s excitement. Draco felt vaguely sick.
“Today’s the dayyyyyy!” Harry sang out, voice muffled through the wall. Through a feat of bravery no other Slytherin has ever shown, Draco managed to not put his wand to his own throat.
Today was, indeed, the day. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to pull the shattered strings of his heart back together. It was a completely normal, utterly unremarkable Tuesday but for one small thing. Tiny, really. So little it hardly bore mentioning.
Today was the day Draco Malfoy’s life fell apart.
Again.
He was going for a world record, it seemed.
A fist pounded against the door to the cupboard and Draco jumped, forcing down his heart as it tried to jump into his throat. He steeled himself, pulling on a scowl and ignoring the heat behind his eyes, before whirling to face the door.
In one swift move he yanked open the door, leaving the fist thumping the other side hanging in midair. Harry didn’t have the good grace to be put off by that though, and he simply fixed Draco with a blindingly bright smile. The kind of smile that made puppies swoon and fangirls wag their tails. As always, when Draco was the focus of that megawatt smile it threatened to do something irreversible to his composure. He scowled twice as hard to hide how weak his knees felt.
“Hi!” Harry said brightly, as if he hadn’t just been pounding on the door and stirring up a ruckus. Git.
Draco raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Are you done?”
“Are you done having your morning panic attack in the cupboard?” Harry shot back quickly, his blinding grin untarnished. Harry tried to raise a brow of his own but he had never quite gotten the hang of it. Both brows ended up jumping up and down and wriggling like dancing caterpillars. It looked ridiculous.
Draco wished with all his heart he didn't find it so devastatingly attractive.
“If you must know, I am,” Draco sniffed, then stepped forward and brushed past Harry. The other man didn’t move out of the way, simply stood there until Draco's shoulder smacked into his chest and forced him out of the way, then spun on his heel and continued to fix Draco with that blinding grin.
“Great! Because we’ve got a lot to do today!” Harry said brightly. “It’s-”
“-the day, yes, I know,” Draco said curtly. He stalked across the office and sat down at his desk, pulling his chair in and grabbing the first pile of files he could, shuffling them against the table so their edges were perfectly straight. Draco pretended to be so completely engrossed in them that he didn’t see Harry following him across the room.
Harry, the absolute menace, ignored Draco ignoring him and crossed the room in three big strides before jumping up on Draco’s desk. Draco yelped and grabbed for his files, shooting Harry a glare as the papers fell out of line again. A pen skittered across the table and fell to the floor. A doxie fluttered out of the intray and chittered angrily at them both before disappearing.
“Potter, do you mind?” Draco said shortly.
Harry laughed, but had the grace to duck his head, red dusting his cheeks as he rubbed at the beach of his neck. He looked back up at Draco from behind his fringe, nearly stopping Draco’s heart in the process. A bashful smirk curled his lips. “Sorry, Malfoy. I’m just excited.”
“You can go and be excited on your own desk. We have work to do.”
“What?” Harry laughed. “We’re not working, no way! Today’s the day I meet my soulmate! I can’t do that if I'm in here pushing papers with you all day, can I?”
You could, you really really could, Draco’s traitorous mind whispered, but he bit his tongue before those desperate words could escape. He sucked in a deep breath and focused on the tang of iron in his mouth instead of the gnawing hole that had opened in his chest. He shook his head instead.
“Perhaps that’s exactly what we should do. Soulmate magic is a mysterious thing, after all. You’re supposed to follow your normal routine and let Fate work things out regardless.”
Harry tipped his head back and a peal of laughter filled the office. The sound was rich and melodious, filling the small space and pressing into the walls itself until it was engraved there. Digging into well-worn tracks that had been carved over the years working together, so many eons removed from the first time they’d both sat in this office.
They hated it, at first. Two junior Aurors fresh from training shoved together in a match made from hell, and they had hated it. For different reasons, of course. Harry had still clearly loathed him (and rightly so, perhaps) for everything Draco had been during the war, and Draco….
Well. Draco had hated being so close to the one thing he couldn’t have. He’d known the moment Harry had walked through the door and his heart had sunk like a stone in his chest, that he still wasn’t over the pathetic crush that haunted him for the better part of a decade at that point. His fears had only been confirmed when Harry had, begrudgingly, shaken Draco’s hand at the insistence of their supervisor.
Draco had felt his heart freeze in his chest the moment their skin touched and a thousand volts of electricity had raced up his arm and through his bones. A moment of pure euphoria that left him gasping, head swimming, until Harry had snatched his hand away and rubbed it aggressively on his jeans to get Draco’s touch off of him.
He hadn’t felt it, of course. Only Draco’s soulmark had activated. A bloom of ink had spilled over his palm and around his hand the moment Harry had touched him, and Draco could only be grateful he’d had the presence of mind to hide his hand. It had been easy, actually. Harry had been doing his best to avoid looking at Draco entirely, a permanent scowl on his face, and Draco had plenty of time to tuck his shaking hand behind his back and cast a quick, nonverbal glamour over his palm.
An unreciprocated soul bond. That’s all it was. Normal, really. Rare, but not unheard of, and romanticised to death as tragic in a way that made Draco grind his teeth together. It was fine. Draco’s soulmate didn’t want him, and Harry deserved better anyway.
He had always deserted better. Draco knew that.
It didn’t make it hurt any less, but he’d learned to live with it. He’d lived with it for five years up to this point. He could manage the rest of his life.
And he would manage it. Because he and Harry had grown close over the years, almost friendly even, and now that he’d had the slightest taste of Harry’s affection Draco could never give it up. He would be anything Harry wanted him to be. Anyone. If all Harry ever wanted from him was a verbal sparring partner that sat across the room from him in their cramped office, then so be it. Draco would be the best damn sorta-friend-sorta-colleague he could be.
And today that meant celebrating Harry meeting his soulmate.
Harry bounced up and down on the desk, his smile widening even further, an excited twinkle in his eye. He tugged the sleeve of his shirt up, rolling it haphazardly, and took another peek at the watch strapped to his wrist.
Draco tsked and grabbed Harry’s arm, seizing the sleeve and rolling it up properly, his fingers tracing warm brown skin for just a second too long before he forced himself to release Harry again. Harry, wonderfully oblivious Harry, just smiled at him and lifted his watch to look again.
“I still can’t believe you bought that thing,” Draco sighed.
“I still can’t believe you haven’t,” Harry retorted. A mischievous grin stole over his face. “I’m sure Ron could get you one from Wheeze’s for a discount.”
Draco snorted inelegantly. “Fat chance. Weaselby hates me.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, it's not like you couldn’t afford full price. You’re just scared.”
I’m bloody terrified, thought Draco only somewhat hysterically. He covered the hitch in his breath with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m a traditionalist. I think it's better to wait for the proper time you meet your soulmate, not have some little doohickey tell you when it’ll be.”
The clocks were a relatively new invention. Some lucky sod in the Department of Mysteries Time division had figured out how to enchant them a decade ago. Little timepieces keyed into a wix’s magical signature that would calculate the exact moment, down to the millisecond, that they would meet their soulmate. Before the watches, everyone had just been flailing about wildly and hoping for the best.
Of course, ‘meet’ was a misleading word. It was the first time you would touch your soulmate skin-to-skin, once you were ready to. A highly complicated matter of magical maturity, emotional state, life experience and a plethora of other things that didn’t make sense. It didn’t matter. Draco hated the damn things. Mostly because he’d been forced to watch Harry’s one tick down second by second for the last five years until Draco’s heart would be broken forever.
“Okay, Grandpa.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Just ‘cause it’s New Magic doesn’t mean it's bad. It’s nice, knowing when I’ll be ready to meet them. Means I can dress up and everything.”
Draco let his gave sweep down Harry’s form, taking in the scuffed sneakers and muggle jeans with a rip in the knee that poked through the burnt red Auror robes. It was an unfairly good colour on him, which Draco both appreciated and felt incredibly jealous over. Red didn’t look nearly as good on him. “You look the same as always.”
“I do not! I brushed my hair!” Harry said, pointing up at his head with both hands, the curly mass of hair spilling over his face and sticking out in wild directions. It waved in a nonexistent breeze, somehow always managing to look like he’d just strolled out of a windstorm.
Draco squinted at Harry’s face like he was closely examining him. As if he didn’t already have every inch of his partner’s face memorised. “It’s impossible to tell.”
“Ugh!” Harry threw both hands up and flopped back on the desk, nearly stabbing himself with a quill before Draco quickly snatched it up. Harry threw an arm over his face and groaned into his sleeve. “How am I ever gonna get them to fall in love with me if I can’t even look the part?”
Draco shook his head, leaning forward and seizing Harry’s wrist. He tugged it away from the other man’s face, meeting bottle green eyes with his own. Draco shook his head. “Please. You’re Harry Potter. The whole wizarding world is already half in love with you.”
Harry frowned at that, a shadow passing over his face. His brows furrowed as he met Draco’s gaze, a seriousness falling over his expression for the first time all day. “I don’t want someone to love me for being Harry bloody Potter. I want… I want someone to love me for me. Just Harry. The git who sucks at paperwork and can never find a matching pair of socks.”
Draco was quiet for a moment, his heart aching. It felt like a claw was reaching into his chest and wrapping around his ribcage, cracking them open one by one. He leaned in closer and squeezed Harry’s wrist, causing the green eyes to focus on him again. Draco wanted so desperately to reach forward and press his thumb into the little crease that had formed between Harry’s eyebrows, to gently smooth it out.
He couldn’t do that, though, so he settled for a low hum. “You are Harry bloody Potter. But you’re right, you’re Just Harry too. This is your soulmate we’re talking about, I believe the Fates would choose someone for you that can recognise that. You’re incredible, Harry. Bloody Potter or not.”
Draco forced himself to bite his tongue, lest more words spill out. He stayed perfectly still as Harry stared up at him, green eyes flicking over Draco's face searching for a hint of a lie, though there would be nothing to find. After a few seconds, Harry relaxed. His expression softened, lips curling up in a smile that promised nothing but sweetness. Harry chuckled. The sound was rich in the air and sweet like honey.
“Thanks, Malfoy.”
Draco sniffed. “Yes. Well. When your soulmate does find out you’re an awkward, dumb, speccy git, I’ve got a bottle of firewhiskey hidden in the back of the storage cupboard.”
Harry gasped. “You dog! Also, hey.”
Draco ignored Harry’s mock outrage and unceremoniously shoved him off the table. Harry squawked as he fell to the carpet, a pile of papers going up in the air after him. Draco bit down a smile at the sound of muffled cursing. “And bad at paperwork or not, we’ve got a lot of it to do today.”
The muffled cursing from beneath the desk turned into louder cursing, including a rather creative one about Draco’s shared traits with a deep sea dwelling slug. Draco bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. A gentle (but only kinda) boot to the side had Harry rolling over and climbing to his feet. He scowled at Draco, fighting the twitching corners of his own mouth, and flipped him two fingers before stomping off to his own desk.
Draco breathed out a silent, heavy breath of relief. Anxiety still prickled up his spine, settling deep into his bones, but for now he was spared. Just a little longer.
x-x-x
The hours passed excruciatingly slowly. Harry checked his watch almost religiously, ignoring the papers in his hands more often than not in favor of the time. He barely looked away. Draco robotically filled out form after form, watching his partner closely across the small office, taking note of everything about him. The steadily increasing mess atop his head as Harry nervously ran his fingers through his hair. The red and swollen look of his bottom lip he compulsively chewed on. Even the incessant tapping of his foot on the floor, which Draco graciously didn't complain about.
The minutes ticked by. Harry grew increasingly unravelled. Draco felt the icy feeling in his chest spread into the rest of his limbs, chilling him from the inside out.
Draco’s right palm tingled under the desk, and he rubbed at it nervously. At a glance, it looked the same as it always did - pale skin with a single freckle on the palm beneath his thumb. Beneath the shimmer of the glamour though, he knew the black shape waited there. The more he thought about it, the more it tingled, but Draco couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He snuck a glance at Harry across the room. The other man was alternating between staring at his watch and flicking his gaze up to the door the moment a noise from the hallway passed by. Harry looked the same as he always did, blissfully unaware of the mark he had left on Draco’s body.
It was an alright mark, he supposed. It was supposed to be a lovely thing, unlike the Dark Mark or the sectumsempra scars that tainted the rest of him. A soulmate mark was something to be celebrated and worn with pride. An unrequited soulmark though…
Draco would sooner cut his own arm off than reveal that.
Harry jumped as another person stomped by outside, his attention riveted to the door. His lip looked chewed half to hell and the crease between his brows was back, leaving the man a jittery nervous mess.
Draco sighed and steeled himself. “Potter.”
Harry continued to stare at the door, eyes unseeing.
“Potter.”
The git wasn’t even listening to him. Harry’s leg was jittering so hard it was now shaking the table, and knocked over a stationary cup that spilled quills everywhere. An ink pot wobbled dangerously closed to the edge.
“Harry.”
Harry jumped, yelped, and spun to face Draco so fast his glasses slipped down his nose. Draco tipped his head to the side in a silent question.
Harry sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m nervous. This is kinda terrifying.”
Draco didn’t laugh. Harry didn’t know how right he was. “It’s only meeting the most important person in your whole entire life, Potter.”
Harry choked on a laugh and glared at him. “You’re the worst.”
“So I’ve been told,” Draco replied mildly. He gestured vaguely in the direction of Harry’s arm. “So? How long now?”
Harry’s fingers drummed against his desk, but he didn’t even need to check the watch to know off the top of his head. “Forty three minutes.”
Well. It was nice to know how long the rest of your life was ahead of time, Draco thought somewhat hysterically. Forty three minutes wasn’t a long time to come to terms with his world ending, but it was better than nothing.
“Almost lunch time,” Draco mused, instead of saying any of that.
Harry ran another desperate hand through his hair, leaving a few strands sticking straight up in the air like he’d been hit with an electric shock. “Malfoy, what should I do?”
“You just have to trust your instincts, Potter,” Draco said simply. It was the standard advice, but no less true. “What do you want to do?”
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, then squared his jaw and visibly grounded himself. He nodded decisively. Green eyes flew open, a heard look of determination settling onto his face. There was the Auror Draco knew and secretly loved. Harry stood from his desk in one swift movement and yanked his red robes over his head, leaving them on the back of his chair. He nodded again, before turning to face Draco.
“We should go to lunch.”
“Alright,” Draco said, because it was easier to just let Harry have his way today. To have someone else take the reins entirely was a welcome relief.
Harry, though, seemed to falter. He turned those striking green eyes back on Draco, expression suddenly unsure. “...I mean… If you, um. If you want to come, that is. Do you…?”
Draco pushed every other thought into a box in the far far back of his mind. “Do you want me to come?”
“Yes,” Harry said so quickly he almost didn’t say it before he was crossing the room. He stepped up in front of Draco, tilting his head back slightly to look at him properly, wringing his hands. His face was open and completely unguarded, and like always it made Draco's heart ache. Harry stood in front of him, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Yes, please, if you would- I just… I think I need someone else there, I can’t-”
“Anything you need, Potter,” Draco said quickly, cutting him off but not feeling all that bad about it when a smile bloomed over Harry’s face again.
Harry sucked in a breath, and in an instant lunged forward. Draco yelped, suddenly feeling himself enveloped in a pair of strong warm arms and pressed chest to chest with Harry fucking Potter. Harry squeezed him tightly, burying his face in Draco's shoulder and letting his hair tickle the side of Draco’s face. Draco stood frozen still for a terrifying moment, before he tentatively returned the hug. His arms gently came around to encircle Harry’s waist, pressing into his shoulder blades. Harry sighed heavily against Draco’s collarbone, melting into him a little more and holding tight.
“Thanks,” Harry whispered into Draco’s shirt. Draco found himself too stunned to speak.
After an eternity, Harry finally pulled back. Slowly, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go, and Draco tried to ignore the lurch in his gut as Harry pulled away from him. Harry extricated his arms from him, looking up with a soft expression on his face.
“I wish…” Harry started, then trailed off. His smile softened, then faded. A furrow formed in his brow again and he shook his head roughly. “I… Lunch. Right? Yeah. Lunch.”
“Lunch,” Draco agreed, feeling a little unmoored from his body.
But the blinding grin shot his way and the hand grabbing his arm, tugging him along to the nearest floo was a very good distraction.
Harry took them to his favourite restaurant, one of their lunchtime favourites. Many an hour had been spent here, at these dinky little french tables, arguing over case notes and flicking croissant crumbs at each other. It was one of Draco’s favourite places in the world. It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to come back here after today, with the memories of it so spoiled.
Harry bounded in through the doors with a spring in his step and a nervousness that only someone who knew him well could spot, but he claimed their usual table without hesitation. He settled down in his seat and then readjusted slightly. He readjusted again.
Draco sat more primly, then tapped his wand against the runes inlaid in the centre as he usually did, perusing the menu as if it was any other day. Harry was too much of a jittery mess to pay any attention, so Draco ordered something he knew the other man would like. A few minutes later, the waiter came by and delivered their meals. Harry blinked in surprise when the food was set down in front of him and managed a distracted thank you before the nerves swept over him again.
Draco ate calmly, every bite of his sandwich tasting like ash in his mouth. Just a little longer, and then he could slip out unnoticed and break down at home. Perhaps it was unhealthy to repress everything in that way, like corking a carbonated bottle and shaking it up so the explosion was so much worse later, but Draco couldn’t really bring himself to care. He mechanically ate his sandwich and pushed Harry’s plate closer to him. Harry picked at his own sandwich, eyes scanning every other table and the door compulsively.
Time seemed to fade in and out after that. Draco floated in a listless grey area, somewhere in between spaces, before Harry’s voice shocked him out of it once again.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” Harry said. His gaze was focused again, pinning Draco to his chair and making his traitorous heart skip a beat.
Draco swallowed nervously, and tried for a small smile. “Of course.”
“Really, I’d be a nervous wreck without you,” Harry laughed, raking another careless hand through his even more careless hair. It curled back around his face in a way that invited one to run their fingers through it.
“You’re not already?”
Harry’s laughter grew louder, became more genuine, and some of the tension dropped from his shoulders. His smile was back, and his hand on the table between them twitched as if wanting to reach out for something. “Alright, fine. You got me.”
Draco smirked at that, and pushed his finished plate to the unoccupied side of the table. “How long now?”
Harry quickly checked his watch, his breath hitching. “Seven minutes.”
“Okay.” Draco nodded encouragingly. He nodded again, for good measure. “Okay. Do you mind if I go to the loo?”
“What? Oh, no," Harry said. He squeezed his hands together on the table top, offering Draco his best confident smile. “Feel free.”
Draco nodded once more and stood, collecting his jacket from the back of the chair and shrugging it on. His thoughts whirled in his head and his heart beat faster. Draco willed himself not to turn on his heel right then and there and apparate away. He couldn’t just leave Harry, but he knew he couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t sit here at this tiny table, his legs bumping into Harry's under the table while waiting patiently for the perfect person to come and sweep the love of his life away. Draco just couldn’t. It would break something in him irreversibly.
“I won’t be far,” Draco said softly. He leaned down and caught Harry’s eye, forcing the other man to look at him. Draco allowed himself a moment to drink in the last time he’d ever see that beautiful gaze like this. Like he was the only thing in the room. “Hey. It’ll be alright.”
Harry nodded resolutely and squared his shoulders. Draco took his chance to slip away.
In the bathroom he splashed water on his face and gasped at the shock of cold against his skin. Draco hunched over the sink, arms shaking, and met the gaze of his reflection in the mirror. Grey eyes looked back at him, red rimmed and set in a too-pale face. The water had hit some of his hair and left the strands plastered to his forehead. A droplet of water ran down his cheek.
The droplet ran into the corner of his mouth and Draco instinctively licked it. It tasted like salt.
He gripped the edge of the sink harder, so hard his knuckles turned white and his fingers flushed an alarming red. Draco trembled. Every muscle was pulled tight and stretched too far over his bones. He could do this, he chanted to himself. He could do this. It had to happen someday, and today was the day. Draco could do this. Draco would do this.
Draco only wanted Harry to be happy, and by god Draco would be happy for him, too.
The minutes in the bathroom passed in a daze, where one bled into the other until Draco had no idea how much time had passed. Blessedly, the bathroom remained empty. Nothing but cool tiles and floral arrangements under slightly-too-weak stasis charms for company, but that was what Draco needed. The echo of his own gasping breaths against the tiles was loud enough.
He splashed another handful of water on his face, embracing the chill as it ran down his neck and seeped into his shirt. It stung. But it felt like something, and not the creeping numbness that was replacing the rest of the ice in his veins, so Draco counted himself lucky.
Eventually, he managed to tear his gaze away from the mirror. Draco's hands shook as he ran them through his own hair messing up the strands. He brushed through them slowly, then quickly, and then tried desperately to flatten them. Draco stole one last glance into the mirror and met the shaky eyes of his reflection. Mirror Draco looked just as scared as he did, so that was a small comfort.
Draco pushed open the door to the bathroom and slipped back out into the restaurant, keeping his eyes on his feet, hugging the wall. It wasn't far, just a few tables and a doorway and then he could escape. Leave Harry to his own business and not have to witness it firsthand.
Draco walked slowly, halfway there, warring with the sick curiosity in his stomach. What were they like? What did they have that Draco didn't, besides everything? They'd be perfect. Perfect for Harry, because Harry only deserved the best. Someone wonderful and kind and brilliant and not tainted by an ugly tattoo or years of bad blood and the wrong side of a war. Someone Draco could never hope to live up to.
Still, curiosity burned within him. It was a fire that ate him up from the inside out and left him gasping, staggering on the spot. He couldn't fight it. The need to destroy himself was too strong.
Just one look. Just a peek. Then Draco could know. And maybe seeing it would finally make Draco’s pathetic heart give up on an impossibility.
He looked up, and oh. Fuck. He was too early.
She was a gorgeous witch with dark curly hair and dimpled cheeks, wearing a sundress printed with sunflowers. She lingered near the table with Harry, her smile just as bright as his, and introduced herself politely. Draco couldn't hear any of the words, but he could see the way Harry's face lit up. He watched, feeling detached from everything, as Harry stood to greet her properly with a matching smile on his face.
This was so much worse. Draco couldn't- He didn't want to- to see the moment where it happened. A mockery of the moment he’d had with Harry five years ago but this time done right- It wasn't- I-it wasn’t-
Draco didn't feel his knees buckle, but he noticed his view change. Suddenly, he was looking up at Harry's blinding smile and the woman's tinkling laughter. He watched, as of in slow motion, as she held out a hand for Harry to shake.
Their fingers neared, brushing, palms almost close enough to touch-
A tortured sound ripped its way out of Draco’s throat. He felt his chest caving in. The ice that had settled in his bones splintered into shards that sliced through every vein. He felt himself tearing apart from the inside out and couldn't move a muscle. Draco couldn't force the body to hold itself together anymore, not as his eyes locked on Harry's beautiful face, his beautiful smile-
That smile faltered, and Harry's head jerked up. A rushing sound was the only thing in Draco's ears, but he saw Harry's head snap to the side. His mouth opened and his lips formed a name into the silence. Green eyes, widening in shock, locked with Draco's.
In three steps Harry was in front of him, eyes wide, Draco's name coming out of his mouth as if from a great distance. Harry's features crumpled with concern and he reached out to Draco like he must have done a thousand times on a thousand missions before.
Draco didn't feel his hand being grabbed, or being pulled to his feet, but he felt Harry's whole body stiffen against him when Draco crashed into his chest. Draco's head fell forward, heat prickling behind his eyes and his throat tight.
Harry gasped. “W-what?”
Suddenly, Draco was being shoved back and he found himself blinking back into the real world, time catching up with him once again. The air rushed through his ears, the cafe dead silent, only filled with the heavy sound of Harry's breathing as he twisted Draco's arm to raise their joined hands.
Harry pulled his hand away, staring dumbfounded at the bloom of black ink that had spilled across his palm. Draco, uncomprehendingly, stared too. His breath hitched in time with Harry's as the other man touched the soulmark in wonder.
Harry looked back at him, eyes wide and glittering. He smiled shakily. Beautifully. “It's you.”
Draco wanted to reply, but he couldn't get a single word into his head at that moment, left simply staring down at an impossibility.
“It’s you!” Harry cried again, throwing himself forward to catch Draco in a hug. He felt himself squeezed in a crushing grip, Harry continuing to babble into his chest. “It's you, Draco! I hoped- But I never thought you could-”
He pulled back just as quickly as he had crashed in and grabbed Draco's arm, lifting his hand alongside his own. His excited chatter died out when he took in Draco's plain palm, though.
“...Unless, y-you can't,” Harry whispered. His grip on Draco's wrist slackened, and he took a tiny step backwards. The unmarred skin of an unactivated soulmark on Draco's skin winked tauntingly back at them both.
“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled, dropping Draco's arm. He stumbled back another step. “I- I shouldn't have-”
He stumbled another step backwards, bumping into their table and turning to try and flee around it. Draco's heart beat out of his chest, his brain finally catching up with the moment.
“No!” Draco lunged forwards, catching Harry’s wrist. “Harry! I'm- It's ”
“It's okay,” Harry said, tripping over his words. A tear had started rowing down his cheek. “It's- it's alright- it's okay, you don't owe me anything. W-we can just forget this whole thing happened, right? Right…?”
“No, please no,” Draco practically begged, throwing himself forward. He tugged Harry's wrist up so their hands were next to each other and ripped the glamour off his skin so violently it stung. “Please, I- Harry-”
The black mark on his own skin came into view in shimmer of sparkles as the glamour dissipated. Inky blackness spilling over Draco's palm in a perfect mirror of Harry's. Draco shakily brought their hands together, too overwhelmed to speak, and Harry's fingers curled around his own. Their marks matched perfectly.
“Oh my god,” Harry whispered. The tears were falling freely down his cheeks now, but this time he was smiling through them. “You do. But- Wait. Glamour?”
Draco sheepishly nodded.
Harry's eyes narrowed as he put two and two together, and made four in far better time than some gave him credit for. Truth was, Harry was clever. And he could figure out exactly what that glamour implied.
Harry's hold on Draco's hand became soft. Gentle. Almost reverent. “How long?”
Drsco swallowed. A tangle of emotions swelled in his chest and threatened to choke him, but he still found himself answering anyway. “Five years.”
Harry gasped. “Five years? But that would have been… No. You've known since then?”
Draco nodded mutely.
“But that was before we even became friends. All this time…?” Harry trailed off, a few tears dripping down his cheeks. “Oh, Draco.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not- it's not. Five years, oh Draco I'm so sorry-"
Draco chuckled wetly, releasing Harry's hand to reach up and cup his cheek. “You weren't ready, and I… I thought it was unrequited. This is so, so much better than that. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Harry shook his head ruefully. “It's not unrequited. I'm yours, Draco. I have been for a while now.”
It was one thing to see the proof in the ink on their hands, but it was completely another to hear it from Harry's mouth. Draco almost folded right then and there, but settled for lunging forward and catching Harry's lips in his own.
Despite the desperate lunge, the kiss was gentle. It was almost chaste, just the press of their lips together and the softest, warmest feeling that had ever settled into Draco’s bones. The kiss was careful and wonderful and stretched at the corners by unstoppable smiles - it was perfect.
A polite cough from behind them made both Draco and Harry freeze in place.
They broke apart from each other and found themselves surrounded on all sides by tables of café patrons and staff staring at them unabashedly. Draco stiffened, and he felt Harry tense beside him.
“Uh,” Harry said intelligently. “Sorry about that.”
A snort broke through the silent room, and their attention snapped back yo the woman in the sundress who still waited by Harry's table. She was watching them both with plain amusement. “Don't be, this will sell out every issue of the prophet we print within the hour. I only wish I'd brought my camera.”
Harry's face turned an impressive shade of red. “Err. Right.”
“I'll owl you for an interview at a later date,” the woman said cheerfully, and stepped back. “Seems like you two have things to discuss. Unless you'd like to give me a quote now, Mr potter?”
Harry opened his mouth to say something but Draco spoke before he could. He fixed the witch with his most withering scowl and grit his teeth.
“No comment,” Draco growled.
Harry stumbled slightly as Draco pulled him to his side, and then with a sudden tug feeling behind his naval the world dissolved into a blur.
They apparated into Draco’s apartment, stumbling slightly on the landing, but Draco was reluctant to ever let Harry go again. The man in his arms laughed and twisted around, grabbing both sides of Draco's face and tugging him in for a much longer, much deeper, kiss.
“That jealousy act has no right being as hot as it is,” Harry said, low and breathless.
Draco felt the curl of heat in his stomach at the sound of Harry's voice like that. Fuck. But he ignored the racing of his heart and pulled back slightly to meet Harry's gaze.
“I'm sorry I interrupted your-”
“Don't be,” Harry cut him off quickly, capturing his mouth again. Draco found himself being pushed back against the wall and caged in by Harry's slightly shorter frame. Harry pressed up against him, heat crackling energy trapped between them. Harry's voice lowered even more. “Please, god, don't ever be.”
Draco gasped as he was pulled into another searing kiss, his soul floating high above his body in sheer elation.
Harry chuckled into the kiss and pulled back for just a moment. “Besides. I like blondes.”