Post-peace Chaos (Drarry)

Chapter 32

[Harry]

"Wait!" he called out.

Draco turned around. "Yes, Harry?"

He was smiling, his coat draping on him. Harry ran a few steps toward him, closing in their distance.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?"

Draco's eyes flitted downward to meet his. "Sure, Harry."

Ten seconds later, Harry skipped back to his door with the warmest feeling in the pit of his stomach.

---

He closed the door behind him, leaning against it. Harry pinched his arm, his face, and his thigh. Nope, not a dream.

He sighed dreamily, clutching his pounding chest.

It all seemed like a fairy tale. A sweet one, an unexpected one, but also- a real one.

Bouncing across his living room and ignoring the pain in his ankle, he arrived beside the dining table. The wine stain was still drenched in the rug. Instead of mopping it up or treating it, he pulled out his wand and dried the patch, leaving a permanent blotch of deep red. Harry wanted to savor this moment, to preserve this feeling forever.

The bowls that were previously full of rice pudding landed safely in the sink. Harry touched his forehead. The swelling had eased, it was merely a slightly elevated patch of flesh now. He tore off his bandages, applying the ointment Draco brought him. He did the same to his ankle. Harry never thought the smell of wormwood would make his insides churn like a lovesick puppy.

Cursing himself but smiling, he limped out of the kitchen and sat down on his favorite armchair, clutching a mug of warm tea. Harry sipped and blushed, recalling the night's events.

He was interrupted by Rem tapping on his living room window. Harry hopped over to let Rem fly inside, feeding him a couple of owl treats and untying the parchment. Tonks hooted happily at him, and he flew over to her cage and buried his head under her wing. Harry always thought the two would make a cute couple.

Harry,

Hey, mate. We sent a letter last night but Rem came straight home with the letter still tied to his leg. 'Mione wondered why he didn't just send it to Malfoy's (don't deny it, Harry, we both know where you were). She reckons he didn't want to bother you two. Aaanyway, how did it go with Malfoy? You can just tell me at drinks' night. 'Mione says she's sorry about the last one and promised she won't come uninvited again. Mind you, you might want to invite her to this one though if you have any 'interesting' details. She'd kill me if the juicy stuff was second-handed. S.P.E.W. after you, mate!

p.s. I've been plotting to dose Wendy Mauvais's flask with Frizzy-hair Fizz Drinks. D'you reckon I should throw in a couple of puking pastilles with the recovering side chopped off? It should be fun.

p.p.s. 'Mione says rumor at the Ministry was your forehead had a giant bump and you were limping. Please snap a picture. It would be on my mantelpiece.

Cheers, Ron

Harry laughed aloud as he read the letter. Ron's letters were always hilarious.

Pulling out a drawer beside his armrest, he gathered fresh parchment and quill. Dipping his quill in ink, he wrote back.