Part 3 / part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 part 5 , part 6 + all future subsequent parts gathered here.
Harry was vaguely enjoying a night out alone, appreciating the anonymity of being in a muggle club. He had a few friends in the Muggle community, but in the two years since he’d moved away from the wizarding world, he had never bumped into anyone at night clubs. So when he spots a head of blond hair standing still amongst the crowd of dancing bodies, he instantly knows who it is. He’d seen many bleached blonds in London, but even from behind, he has no doubt about which blond this is. It’d been a month since they’d randomly bumped into each other and though they’d exchanged numbers, neither had acted upon the implied invitation.
He pushes through the drunken sea of people and stops right behind the blond, who immediately turns around. Draco Malfoy. Of course.
“I’m drunk!” he says looking worried, but not at all surprised to see Harry.
“Are you okay? Where are your friends?” Harry asks in return, quite taken aback.
“I’m drunk!” Draco simply repeats, ignoring his questions. “Can you make me a cup of tea?” He looks on the verge of panic; a strand of hair falls into his eye.
Harry grabs him by the arm and leads him out of the club, away from the blaring music. Outside, his ears ring in the silence of the early morning.
“You want a cup of tea?” Harry asks, to make sure he had heard correctly.
Draco nods and looks down at his shoes, stumbling sideways as Harry’s hand instinctively shoots out to grab his shirt and straightens him up. The sun is rising and Harry is starting to feel a little out of his depth. Aside from Christmas at the Burrow and the monthly owl updates to Ron and Hermione, he’d made it clear that he needed time away to process and figure things out. And now suddenly he’s dragging a drunken Draco Malfoy out of a club and considering offering him a cup of tea. He gently sighs.
“I live just around the corner, I can make you one.”
They walk in silence, Draco stumbling over a pebble every now and then, but making it to Harry’s flat unscathed.
Harry unlocks the door and locks it again behind Draco.
“Two sugars, please,” he says, barely audibly, as he removes his shoes in the entrance.
When Harry puts the kettle to boil, he realizes he is out of sugar. He turns to tell Draco but finds he has vanished. He checks the front door; it’s still locked. As he makes his way back to the kitchen, his eye catches the bedroom door, now ajar. The sight he sees upon entering the room pushes him further out of his depth: Draco Malfoy, sleeping soundly on his bed, right on top of the covers. He stands in the door frame for a few moments longer, trying to make sense of what is happening.
By now, the sun is bathing the whole room in a peachy glow; Harry sighs again and goes back to the kitchen to remove the kettle from the stove. He goes back to his bedroom, places his glasses and wand on the nightstand near Draco and goes around the bed to look out the window. This time, he lets out what oddly feels like an overdue exhale of relief. Without a thought, he pulls the curtains in closer, changes into a t-shirt and softly slips under the covers, feeling the weight of Draco pulling at them from the other side of the mattress. This should feel weird; this should feel extremely weird, but in this wildly unexpected situation, Harry falls asleep in a matter of seconds and sleeps soundly all the way through to the afternoon.