But he didn’t let go, because Draco needed him. He hated coming here and watching Draco work his charm on everyone. He didn’t want to let go and kept saying he never would. So many fights, and yet Harry never really wanted to give up. The first time he said “I love you”, Draco didn’t believe him, and they fought about that too. And maybe that was the case, maybe he did need to heal. His therapist once said to him that sometimes, wounds are so deep that they become part of someone’s life. Harry kept showing him that he was, he really was. He wanted to feel like someone really wanted him. Hermione always said there was a deeper meaning to that. He loved dancing with other guys, maybe just to piss Harry off. There wasn’t someone to ask him to go back home, to come back home to. He knew it, but he ordered another whisky anyway. They connected that night, and that feeling of having to know what the other one was doing at every moment of the day was back, but in another way. ![]() They really didn’t need to explain much, because they both knew so much about each other’s life. When they decided to go back home, Draco said in his ear, while everyone said goodbye, “Rendez-vous tomorrow, same time?”. They were all wasted, and all they really did was dance. It wasn’t the first time that he wondered what he had become. Seeing him didn’t bring back painful things, it made something in Harry ache. And this made sense, because he had always hated him. That night, the first thing he noticed was Draco. It made bad memories come back, but he couldn’t push those back. Hermione and Blaise had classes together, and after a while, they became friends too, much to Harry’s despair.įor a weird reason, he wasn’t so keen as to become friends with them all. She really was the sunshine of their lives, and she made it so they finally connected. She was the only one who had real connections to both their friend groups. That night, Hermione and Blaise made plans to regroup their friends and celebrate Luna’s birthday. Heading to the bar, he saw himself there, the first time they all came here together. In the sheets, in the kitchen making cappuccinos, in the bathroom, where all his fancy shampoos still were. Being in the club alone was one thing, but being alone in their bed, was another. He didn’t even want to go home either, because he knew it would be worse than this. It was too loud, too crowded, and he was too drunk. ![]() But now, being here alone just made him hate it. It was also one of their favourite club, before. No arms to cling onto, no body to hold while dancing to this music that he didn’t even enjoy. He was still the one carrying everyone home and making sure they were all safe before he went home. He was because Draco was, and wherever he went, Harry followed. He had never been one of those people, who got their kicks out of waking up and not remembering a single thing from the night before.īut then he was. It was actually the point, to come here and get wasted. Harry felt like he could say anything, talk about his worst traumas, without being judged or misunderstood. It was all Harry could have wanted : great sex, great conversations, and so much common ground to speak on. They worked so hard for the relationship to work. Their friends were not that surprised, saying that all the animosity from school was only a step away from this blooming love.īut it didn’t feel like that for them. When they started seeing each other, it was weird for both of them at first. He’s had loads of experience and felt wonderful things with wonderful people. The one people used to waste time without thinking about anything else but how badly you’re feeling inside.Īnother breakup. Because of course, it wasn’t such a great idea to drown his sorrows in alcohol on a Friday night. Harry looks around, only seeing sweaty bodies and earing loud music.
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