Pottah!!!!

"Yeah," Harry said, brow furrowing, "Of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"So it's me then," he replied, crestfallen.

"What are you talking about?"

"If I've upset you, I wish you'd tell me," he said, trying not to snap at him. "I'm not fragile and if you never tell me what I've done wrong how can we ever-"

"Draco," Harry said, standing up and stepping toward him. "Hey," he took his hands, "Calm down," he murmured, voice unbearably gentle.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" Draco snapped. "Just-"

"I'm not upset with you!" Harry exclaimed. "You haven't done anything wrong, everything is fine," he said, shaking his head, "We're fine. Better than fine, I thought," he added with a frown.

"Then what's wrong?" he asked. "I've tried not to be a crazy boyfriend who wants to know everything about your life but honestly I just don't have it in me."

"There's noth-"

He interrupted him, "And don't tell me there's nothing wrong because I bloody well know there is. You're drinking coffee," he said, which he knew made him sound like an insane person, but it was true, "like multiple cups a day which you only do when you're really tired," he said. "And a day here or there where you're tired is normal, but when you start having strings of days where you're tired you're always working at repressing something with your emotions," he continued.

"I-" Harry started but Draco was on a roll.

"I invited you for curry last night, Harry," he said, "Curry. And you declined. There has literally been only one time when you said no to curry and that was when you thought you were going to get fired from your job and that your life was basically over because your job was all you had."

"But-"

"And," he continued, "you haven't laughed when I told you Gladys' joke of the day all week. When you smile, it doesn't reach your eyes, and your hair has been in a man bun every single day this week."

"My hair?" Harry asked. "What's my hair got to do with anything?"

He rolled his eyes, "When you're looking for physical affection, you leave your hair down because you know that I will play with it. Physical touch is your love language and when you are upset you withdraw and have clear body language indicators that you are not wanting to receive love."

"What?"

He shrugged, "I'm not sure why it happens, but it does. Whenever you're upset you don't let yourself have the comfort that would actually make you feel better. It's got to be a trauma response but up to this point, I thought this was probably something that you were talking to your therapist about."

Harry frowned, "I didn't realize I did that."

"To be clear, I don't blame you, and it makes sense," he said reasonably. "Throughout your childhood your life experience taught you that either your emotions were a punishable offense, or that when your emotions were on the rise someone you loved was about to get hurt or killed."

"Remind me why I have a therapist again," Harry said, dryly.

He gave him a little smile, "Anyway," he continued. "I know something is bothering you and it's nothing to do with work; it's nothing to do with your friends, I checked with Hermione; so that leaves only one option and that's that I've done something-"

"You haven't," Harry inserted, cupping Draco's cheeks in his palms, "Godric but you're brilliant." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Draco's lips and Draco all but melted into Harry's body.

His fingers clenched in Harry's robes and he let himself be kissed until the fear and panic that had been clawing at his throat all week was soothed.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, brushing the hair off Draco's face. "It's not about you, you really haven't done anything wrong, and I'm sorry that I made you feel that way."

"What is it about then?" Draco asked, rubbing slow circles on Harry's lower back.

Harry leaned into the touch, resting more of his weight on Draco and giving in to the comfort that Draco was offering. He wasn't even sure that Harry was actually aware of what he was doing. "It's stupid."

"I'm sure it's not," he replied without missing a beat.

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Draco's, "Can we talk about it later? I just..." he trailed off and then cleared his throat, "I don't want to talk about it at work."

"Alright," he said softly, heart sinking.

"I promise it's not about you," Harry repeated, "and it's nothing..." he trailed off as though searching for the right word, "bad," he finished lamely.

"It's alright," Draco replied. "I shouldn't have ambushed you at work."

Harry kissed the tip of his nose, "You can talk to me anytime. Work or no," he said. "Meet me at my flat after?"

Draco nodded, "See you later."

-----------------

A case came in shortly after that and Draco's afternoon flew by. Before he knew it, the work day was drawing to a close and his anxiety was bubbling in his stomach again.

He headed to the row of fireplaces and flooed to Harry's.

The other man was already waiting for him, holding out a pair of jeans and a sweater. "Hey," Harry said.

"Hello," he greeted, feeling strangely shy.

"These are for you," he offered, holding them out to him.

Draco nodded, "I'll just," he shrugged awkwardly, "go get changed, then."

When he emerged, Harry held out a hand to him without a word.

He took it and a heartbeat later they apparated away. They reappeared just outside of a village and Draco followed as Harry set off down the road as though he'd walked this path many times.

"Do you know where we are?" Harry asked softly.

Draco shook his head, the weight of whatever Harry was going to share with him a palpable thing between them.

"This is Godric's Hollow," Harry murmured.

His head snapped over to look at Harry who stared steadfastly ahead as he walked toward a row of houses, nodding at a few muggles they passed on the way. He stopped in front of a house that looked in shambles and led Draco up the front steps before opening the door.

Once they stepped through everything changed; the entryway that they stepped into had been restored, the hardwood polished and the cream paint warm and clean on the walls. He stopped to look at a painting of a man who looked remarkably similar to Harry and a woman with flaming red hair and Harry's eyes. He realized exactly where they were and he had a strong suspicion that he knew why.

When he turned, Harry was standing in the doorway to another room watching him. "This is where my parents lived," he said softly. "It's where I lived when I was little," he added, "Before Voldemort came after me and subsequently them."

"Harry," he breathed, his heart cracking, painful splinters breaking off and stabbing inward.

"I-" Harry began before breaking off and running his fingers through his hair, "I've been working on it a little bit, just restoring it a little."

"I'm sorry," Draco blurted, covering his mouth with his hand, "I shouldn't have made you tell me." This was none of his business and like usual he'd gone and stuck his nose in where it didn't belong.

"It's okay," Harry assured, taking a step closer. "I haven't told anyone because I wasn't sure how, but it's nice to share it with someone," he said. "And I'm glad it's you."

Draco wasn't entirely sure what to say to that proclamation.

"It'll be twenty five years tomorrow," Harry said softly, "And I just," he shrugged a little helplessly, "It's been really getting to me lately for some reason." He sniffled and pushed his glasses up so he could wipe his eyes, "It's stupid, I know," he continued, "To feel upset about something that happened before I could even remember-"

"It's not," Draco said, crossing the space between them and wrapping Harry in his arms. "It's not stupid," he repeated.

And Draco could hear the precise moment that Harry's heart shattered into a million little pieces just before he fell apart, burying his face in Draco's neck as he cried.

Draco stroked his hair and pulled him closer, "I've got you," he murmured.

"It's not fair," Harry managed through a heaving sob.

"No it's not, love," he replied, his own eyes stinging as he held him closer still. "It's not fair at all."

"It hurts," he whispered and Draco's heart ached with his.

He held him tighter, "I'm so sorry, love," he breathed because he didn't know what else to say. "I'm here," he said.

Harry shuddered as a sob worked it's way out of his throat and Draco did the only thing he could. He held him and let him cry until he wasn't trembling anymore, until he wasn't sobbing anymore, and he started to pull away, shoving his glasses up to scrub at his eyes again. "Sorry," he said. "Sorry, I'm going to therapy so I don't dump everything on people. I didn't mean-"

"Harry," Draco interrupted, "You're not dumping anything, I-"

"Yes, I am!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to go to therapy so that I could just," he shook his head, "move on, but it just feels like everything is even closer. It feels like all of the stuff that I spent my life getting over is right at the surface, all the time."

"But you didn't spend your life getting over it," Draco said. "You spent your life trying to shove it down and bury it. And as much as it sucks, the work you're doing right now is what will actually help you to deal with it."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

He gave him a little smile, "Because my therapy was the same. My triggers were different and the things that I had to process were different but I remember feeling like shit after my sessions a lot. I remember feeling like all of the things that felt horrible and that I had really negative emotions about were always just under my skin."

"Really?"

He nodded, "It got better though," he said, "If that is any consolation."

He was quiet for a moment, avoiding Draco's gaze and slowly rubbing his arm. "Maybe we should stop seeing each other," Harry said, staring at the floor. "Until I've got a better grip on this," he continued. "I just," he shook his head, "I feel like a mess and I made you feel like I was mad at you, and this-"

"Harry," he said again, stepping toward him, "I don't want that. I don't feel like you're a mess and I'm sorry for overreacting." He tilted his head down so he could see Harry's face, "Thank you for sharing this with me and I'm always want to know anything you want to tell me, but if you don't want to share, you could just tell me it's something you're not ready to talk about yet."

"I don't want you to feel like you're my therapist," he said. "I don't want you to feel like you have to fix me."

"I don't feel that way," he said calmly.

Harry shook his head, "But if I lost it like this as often as I feel like I could-"

"I would still love you," he said and then broke off because that was a big confession.

Harry's eyes met his for the first time since they'd started this conversation, "What?" he breathed.

He squared his shoulders, "I would still love you," he replied. "Because I know you, Harry. And it does not matter where you are on your journey of healing, I want to be there with you."

"Babe," he whispered before taking two steps forward to close the distance between them and kiss Draco. "I love you, too."

"You don't have to be perfect," he said softly. "Just be you. If you're having a good day, a bad day, or anything in between. I'm in this, alright?"

Harry nodded, "Me too."

"Good." He pressed one more kiss to Harry's lips, "Show me what else you've been working on?" he asked, nodding toward the house.

Harry brightened at the request and started leading Draco through the parts that he'd already worked on, proudly showing off his hard work. Draco started making some suggestions here and there and the next day when Harry came to work on the house, Draco came too.

Two years and countless hours of work later, Harry proposed in the very same hallway, asking Draco to move in with him and to spend the rest of their lives together.

He'd never been more sure of anything when he said yes.

---------------