for @microficmay Prompt: Heady. WC: 218

There were only a few things that could make him feel like this: overcome with the heady sense of being privy to something truly extraordinary.

There was that moment each time he mounted his broom, when he lifted off the ground and his body broke its relationship with gravity. No matter how many times he flew, that feeling never failed to thrill him.

Another was the rush of memories and magic that filled his body, racing down his arm and into his wand whenever he cast a Patronus. Watching the majestic white stag burst forth, the embodiment of all the good things in his life, felt like being wrapped in a warm, parental embrace.

And then there was Draco's laughter.

It had taken years after the war for Harry to hear it for the first time. Across a pub table, head thrown back, shoulders shaking, eyes bright with it. Draco's laugh was, unlike his usual posh drawl, a little too loud, a little too unguarded. It was perfect.

Harry is fairly certain that was the exact moment he realised he was in love.

Each of Draco's laughs fills him with joy, the kind that effervesces in his bloodstream, leaving him lightheaded, a little drunk on it.