Draco shivered. He wanted to wrap himself up in a blanket but knew if he did he'd fall asleep. There was still a great deal of rustling and not nearly enough sleeping in the beds around him. He had decided to wait until night to try and talk to Harry. It was, he reasoned, the best chance he had to talk to him alone and without fear of interruption. It may have also been the case that he couldn't have gotten close to Harry all day long even if he had wanted to, not with Granger and Weasley hovering.

There were risks to this method. The worst, being caught and making the rumours worse. Luckily, only Blaise had seen them clearly so everything whispered around the school at present was vague and largely conjecture. Most seemed to think Harry had snuck into Draco's bed on some sort of secret mission, either to gather evidence of Draco's evil plans or to assassinate him. Both ideas were laughable if for no other reason than Harry was never that subtle and Draco's life had been constantly monitored by the aurors since the trials. He hadn't the time, nor the stupidity, required for evil plans. He hardly had time for his NEWTs which was the whole reason he was here.

Pansy assured him that Potter wasn't under the effects of a love potion. He had had his doubts, but Pansy had snuck into the hospital wing where Harry's friends had dragged him under the assumption he was dosed. They had all been wrong. Harry wasn't under the effect of any love potion or manipulative magic of any kind.

Draco sighed, his eyes closing briefly and fighting down a yawn. He had waited long enough. It had to be long enough because if he waited another minute he would absolutely die of exhaustion. He pushed his curtains back and cast a silencing spell around his feet, making no sound except for his breathing as he made his way down the rows of bed to Harry's.

Harry had the bed by the door tucking into the corner and as he got closer Draco could hear the bed creaking as Harry thrashed, his breathing rapid. A nightmare. Harry had a lot of nightmares and it felt mildly horrifying how easily his fellow Gryffindor's slept through them. Blaise had asked about it and apparently, Harry had nightmares through most of school, especially the last couple years, and they all just got used to it. They said it wasn't worth trying to wake him up.

Draco pushed back the curtains and found Harry clutching his blankets to his chest like a lifeline, sweat soaking the black mop of hair sticking to his forehead. His brow was twisted together, his eyes frantically flicking back and forth beneath his eyelids. He was wearing a shockingly large tee shirt and a pair of faded grey boxers that had pushed up, showing most of Harry's legs, tan skin with wiry black hair

Draco wasn't sure how to go about this. He wasn't sure how to go about anything in this situation. He wasn't proud to admit it but he was a reactive person, not a proactive one. People had always come to him first, power and money had that effect, at least up to recently. His family was still quite wealthy but even that would not get most people to touch him with a ten-foot broomstick, hit him certainly, but any sort of benign contact, no.

He sighed silently and sat on the edge of the bed and gave Harry's shoulder the mildest shake he could manage. Draco gasped as he was flipped onto his back, the edge of the bed digging into his spine. Harry leaned over him, one hand on Draco's shoulder, his other hand holding his wand above Draco's heart.

When the initial shock had passed, Draco fell back on his old friend, bitter sarcasm, "Now I can see why no one tries to wake you up."

Harry blinked and twitched backwards, quickly pulling his wand away in shock, "Draco?"

Draco took a deep breath to fortify himself and raised an eyebrow, "Quite."

"What are you-? Why are you-?" Harry floundered.

"Do those questions have endings or is this a fill in the blank exercise?" Draco said.

Harry frowned at him briefly and grabbed his glasses from beside his pillow and hurriedly pushed them on, "You know what I mean," he said bitterly.

"I want…" This was the moment, the do or die moment. Draco had to grapple with the very intense urge to turn around and walk right back to his bed and pretend this had all been a fever dream prompted by bad cheese. He swallowed hard, going to the root of the matter which was one word and thus much easier to manage than a whole sentence, "Apologise."

"You-?" Harry started. There was a rustling behind them, the sort that precludes a late night visit to the loo and Harry grabbed Draco's nightshirt, pulling him into the confines of his four poster and closing the curtains with a hasty flick. Draco heard Harry cast a muffliato and then a lumos, lighting them in pale blue light. "You came to apologise?"

Draco nodded stiffly.

"To me?" Harry pointed at himself.

"Who else would I be doing it too?" Draco said getting a little annoyed.

Harry looked shocked, "But why?"

Draco stared at him, his brows very slowly drawing together in confusion.

"I'm the one that snuck into your bed when you were asleep," Harry went on, scrubbing one hand through his hair, "I'm the one that took advantage of the situation to- to-" he stopped, a flush rising on his cheeks.

"That's why you ran off?" Draco asked.

"You thought you were dreaming!" Harry snapped.

Draco stared at him, fighting a growing flush on his cheeks.

Harry sighed and looked down at his hands, rolling his wand between his fingers with a faint frown.

Draco had to look away to even conceive of speaking, staring first at the shadowed curtains and then just closing his eyes altogether, "I dream of you quite often."

"You do?" Harry asked faintly.

"In about half of them, I am trying to speak with you, to apologise but you can't seem to hear me or even see me," Draco said.

"Oh…"

Draco licked his lips and went on doggedly, "In the other half, there are… quite like what happened this morning…" he flushed, not thinking about how those dreams usually ended, " …It was just- it seemed too good to be true."

"You- You aren't mad?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, "I literally just said this morning was a dream come true, you absolute pillock. I was trying to avoid saying cliché garbage."

Harry cracked a smile, "I rather think I like cliché garbage."

"You would," Draco muttered.

Harry shrugged absently, staring at Draco with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.

Draco glanced at the curtains again, "I should… go." He hesitated, glancing back at Harry and then grabbed the edge of the curtain.

A hand curled around his other wrist. "You don't have to," Harry said.

Draco let himself follow Harry's hand, his heartbeat stuttered in his chest making him feel out of breath, "What should I do then?" Draco asked, forcing his hand to unclench enough to let go of the curtain.

Harry relaxed once he realized Draco wasn't going to leave."Well, you could tell me about your dreams."

Draco raised an eyebrow, "Which ones?"

"Either," Harry shrugged, "Both."

Draco smothered his grimace and focused on the fact that Harry hasn't let go of his wrist, "I'm fairly certain I already said, though it doesn't surprise me you weren't listening."

"It doesn't surprise me you're being an arse," Harry responded with a brief eye roll. His grip tightened slightly on Draco's wrist, his thumb drawing out along Draco's pulse point and back again in a slow easy rhythm. "I don't understand why you would dream about apologising to me. You already did. You apologised to everyone."

"Those were… just letters," Draco said with a faint frown. He stared down where their hands met, his skin looking so pale against Harry's sun kissed complexion, his frown deepened, "I have… always wished to say-" his brow twitched, "-to say the words aloud to you."

He watched as Harry slid his hand down, slipping his fingers around Draco's with a gentle squeeze.

Draco swallowed hard, not daring to look up, "I-" his voice broke and he cleared it quickly with a flush of embarrassment, "I'm sorry… for everything."

"So am I," Harry said quietly, "Especially for what happened in the bathroom in sixth year."

A sickly smile crept onto his face, "Can't I didn't deserve it, considering what I was doing." Draco saw Harry's jaw clench and looked away, waiting for him to loosen his grip, "Why are we even doing this?"

"Because I want to," Harry said, "I've had enough of doing what everyone else wants."

Draco looked and found Harry looking at him with such intensity it made him shiver. He found himself nodded in agreement, although their experiences were on the opposite sides Draco was absolutely sick to death of who he was supposed to be.

Harry went on, "I don't like what you did in the war but I understand why you had to do it. I understand that you were made to be Malfoy in the same way I was made to be the boy who lived. We did what we had to try and stay alive but-" his voice went quiet, "-we don't have to do that anymore."

"So now we can do what we want," Draco said and smirked, "I suppose that includes sneaking into people's beds in the middle of the night?"

"I thought you said-!"

"I was talking about myself," Draco cut him off with an impatient gesture to their surroundings, "I'd say we are about even when it comes to uninvited late-night rendezvous."

Harry grinned, "Well, almost. I did kiss you. So it's a bit uneven on that end." He looked hopeful, a bit nervous and, as Draco pulled his hand free, uncertain as well.

Draco shifted closer, feeling as if he might die from being so completely overwhelmed. He cupped both hands around Harry's face and kissed him, hoping rather pointlessly that Harry wouldn't notice how much he was shaking.

Harry clutched at Draco's nightshirt, his other hand wrapping around Draco's forearm as if to hold him there. Draco let himself be pulled in and drown in the warmth of Harry's kiss, the sweetness of his mouth. They kissed until they were both shaking and clinging to each other, not ready to let go.

Harry's face hovered close to Draco's, eyes closed as if he were trying to commit everything that had happened to memory. Draco brushed his thumb over Harry's cheek, sliding his hand along his chin and down his neck, the skin there so much softer, thinner. When he paused he could feel Harry's pulse thundering just beneath the surface, his fingertips brushing through his hair.

Draco felt Harry let out a huff, the warm air brushing his chin, and found Harry watching him, smiling when their eyes met.

"Would you stay?" Harry asked, "I rather liked sleeping with you last time."

"I was sleeping, you were being annoying," Draco sniffed. He sighed, reaching up to halfheartedly comb Harry's hair through his fingers. One eyebrow twitched up as his hair immediately went back to the exact same state of unruliness as before he touched it.

Harry laughed at his expression, grabbing hold of Draco's shirt and pulling gently, "Come on, I'll be good this time."

Draco smiled and shook his head. "I highly doubt that," he said grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it up. Harry took his glasses off and they wriggled underneath it, legs tangling together, foreheads touching to share the one pillow.

.

Rumor has it they were found together the next morning and the morning after that and the morning after that… but who believes rumors?