drarry microfic (set in eighth year) ~ mixed signals
Thereâs a disturbance in the air, and the head and torso of Harry Potter appears right in front of him. Draco shakes his head in disbelief, doesnât dare to let his own gaze linger at the other boy for too long. Harryâs wrists are exposed due to his sweater being one or two sizes too small, the moonlight shining through the window of the Astronomy Tower making his toned skin look almost pale. Somehow the sweater still looks baggy on him, making his wrists seem smaller than they are. Dracoâs breath hitches when Harry awkwardly runs a hand over his neck and his sweater rides up, exposing a little bit of skin above his waistline.
Draco turns his attention to the floor.
âYou fucking idiot. You absolute moron.â
âOh, for Merlinâs- donât be, Harry. Fuck. Youâre just so stupid.â
âThank you?â Harry laughs softly, and it sends a shiver down Dracoâs spine. The familiarity of that laugh forces him to look back up, and he watches Harry carefully. Harry doesnât hide the fact that heâs staring, too.
âYouâre sending rather mixed signals, you knowâ, he says after a beat of silence, and Draco blinks stupidly.
âSays youâ, he scoffs, and the way his voice breaks at the end might be what gives him away. Or perhaps Harry has memorised his every facial expression these last months, like how Draco knows Harryâs every frown, every smile, every laugh. What matters isnât what gives him away. What matters is that Harry is approaching him. Slowly and carefully. Merlin knows how much Draco needs him not to be careful right now. He needs the Harry he knows.
âSays me.â Harryâs smile is unbelievably soft. Draco had no idea that a smile could break down within him what no insults or curses could. Who would have known that someone doesnât have to be harsh and cruel to make Draco Malfoy feel things? Experience these odd little things called feelings?
âYou canât talk about mixed signals, Harry James Potterâ, he says, his voice fragile enough to barely carry but strong enough not to break. That bloody beautiful name leaves his lips in a voice quiet enough to be silenced by his exhale, and his lips tremble before being pressed together. But he canât stop the words now, and they force themselves out of his mouth like Harry keeps forcing himself back into Dracoâs life time and time again. âI told you weâre done, didnât I? I thought I made it pretty clear. Yet youâre here, stubborn as always, you git! What makes you think that our relationship is cancelled but our stargazing date is not?â
âYou never said it was cancelled, love.â
âDonât call me that.â
âOh, but I love seeing you flustered whenever I call you that, Draco. Look at you. Now whoâs the one giving mixed signals? You canât tell me Iâm a git and that weâre done while blushing like crazy and refusing to look at me.â
âHm. Cute.â Harry takes another step forward and lets his invisibility cloak fall to the floor. Itâs draped over his shoes, making them vanish and creating the illusion that heâs floating a few inches above the floor. Draco feels like he is floating. He must be floating. Maybe the breakup did kill him, and that wasnât just him imagining things, and now heâs a ghost doomed to haunt this very tower forever. The tower where he broke up with Harry beneath the stars. The tower where Harry is now back, where theyâre both together again, and Harry is staring at him with stars in his eyes. That shine makes up for the lack of stars outside, and Draco doesnât regret coming up here one bit, even though itâs cloudy and cold.
âNo, I didnât come up here in a foolish attempt to win you back, Draco. I didnât think youâd be here. After all, you broke up with me. I didnât think thereâd still be a date.â
âThis isnât a date.â
âThen what are you doing here?â
Draco canât help but stare at the matte black mess that is Harryâs hair after he has just woken up. âThe same as you, probably. Except I didnât manage to fall asleep no matter how hard I tried, and you seem to have gotten at least a few minutes of sleep before you decided to take a late night stroll up here.â
Harry doesnât ask him how he knows it, just nods gravelly. âI dreamt of you.â
âNot quite, actually. I think I prefer the real version of you over dream-Draco. Heâs quite cruel, you know. Not very cute when the person you love is yelling at you, telling you that youâre worthless and a fool for falling for him.â
Thereâs silence, and then Harry snorts. âAre you seriously apologising for your actions in my dreams right now, Draco?â
He blushes furiously and looks away. âYeah. Sorry.â
âYou fucking idiot. You absolute fucking mess of a person.â
And before Draco can process whatâs going on, heâs being pulled into a tight hug. With his face full of unbrushed, black curls and a fist full of Gryffindor sweater, Draco can finally relax for the first time in days.
When they part many minutes later, the first thing Draco does is wipe the stupid tears out of his face with his sleeve, and he clears his throat awkwardly.
âItâs okay, Draco.â
Once again the words come tumbling out of his mouth. âBut what if it isnât? What if dream-Draco was right, and youâre a fool for dreaming of me and wanting to be with me, and Iâm a fool for wanting you? What if I am a fucking idiot? What if thisââ He gestures at his puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. ââ is who I am? And what if real Draco is out to hurt you? Without even knowing it. What if I hurt you, hurt you by breaking up with you again of fear of hurting you, and what if I just arenât good enough for you or right for you and what ifââ
âHow about I just cut you off right there?â Harry manages to put an end to the stream of words with one look. âThere. Now that youâre done talking nonsense â because you are done, I hope? â what do you think about the two of us finally making that stargazing date happen? Like, right now?â
Draco canât believe what heâs hearing. âPotter, did you even listen to anything I just said?â
âIndeed I did, and I came to the conclusion that it was all utter bullshit. Iâm not saying your feelings are though, and weâre going to have to have a talk about all of that. But not right now. Youâll feel better after we do something else, something fun to get your mind off of the bullshit! Trust me!â Harry beams at him before taking Dracoâs hand in his. âStargazing it is!â
âPotter, there are no stars to gaze at.â
âWhat? Oh. Yeah, you seem to be right about that. Blimey. Well, Astronomy Tower and all, I guess that leaves us with one option then.â Draco canât help but huff something that could be a laugh at the way Harry wiggles his eyebrows at him.
âRemind me again when and why I fell in love with you and your weirdness.â
âRemind me again if youâve ever outright told me that you love me before?â
âI, er, I donât think so. Sorry, I didnât mean toââ
âWell, you canât take it back now! This means youâre stuck with me forever, there is no escape!â