Work Text:
“You are such a bloody, fucking arsehole!” Harry shouted, as he burst into his partner’s room at St. Mungo’s. “I can’t believe you.”
“Could you lower your voice, please?” Draco asked, eyes closed as he gingerly rubbed his temples.
“No, I cannot bloody well lower my voice!” Harry seethed as he looked at the other man. Draco was pale and quite obviously in pain, his slender frame resting stiffly against the mattress. “I am unbelievably pissed with you.”
“Yes, well, I have a concussion and my head is pounding-”
Harry growled, “Well whose fault is that?”
“Potter, I am begging you to save the theatrics until my potion has kicked in and I’m not seeing sounds,” the other man groaned. “Literally begging.”
“Well you should have thought of that before you jumped in front of those arseholes who were shooting a stunner and bombarda at me.”
Draco groaned and let his head fall back against the pillow, “This has got to be karma. Having your ungrateful arse as my auror partner is karma for all of my past sins. Merlin have mercy.”
Harry opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by one of the nurses, Matilda if Harry remembered correctly. “Auror Potter, I’m going to need to ask you to step out of the room.”
“Thank fucking Merlin,” Malfoy sighed.
Matilda raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to need Auror Malfoy to strip down so we can put his dislocated, and partially shattered, hips back together. It’s also going to be fairly painful.”
“Good,” Harry growled, “Remember this next time you try to put yourself in harm’s way for me.”
He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. After a heartbeat, Harry shoved his glasses up into his hair so he could scrub his hands over his face.
As the adrenaline faded from his system, Harry’s body started to feel a bit weak, legs quaking slightly, his heart hammering against his ribs, breath coming a touch too fast. He staggered away from the door and over to the row of chairs along the wall for people to wait.
Draco cried out in pain on the other side of the door and Harry's fists clenched. He wished he hadn’t said that; the other man being in pain wasn’t good and he wished he could take it away.
Harry wasn’t sure how long he sat there with his head in his hands, hearing the occasional outcry from Draco’s room, before Ron showed up and clapped him on the shoulder.
“How is he?” Ron asked as he collapsed next to him.
“Ouch, fuck!” they heard shouted from the room across the hall. “That fucking-” a pause as the other man groaned, “hurts.”
“Not great,” Harry replied.
Ron nodded, “But conscious.”
Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, “You’ve finished processing those wankers?”
“Yes,” he affirmed. “It was lucky, actually, that Malfoy blocked the spells,” he said. “The cases behind you would have exploded with even the slightest hint of magic touching them.”
“Great,” he said with a sigh, feeling even more guilty.
“He’s going to be okay,” Ron said softly and to his horror Harry felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes.
“How do you even know that?” Harry asked, “No one told you he was going to be okay.”
Ron snorted, “If he wasn’t you would have burned everything to the ground by now.”
His best friend probably wasn’t wrong about that. He couldn’t even bear the thought of losing Draco without feeling like he couldn’t breathe. “He shouldn’t have done that,” Harry said finally.
Ron shook his head, “Done what? His job?”
“He shouldn’t have put himself in the line of fire,” Harry replied. “Not for me.”
“Right,” Ron said, “Just like you shouldn’t put yourself in the line of fire for him, but just last week-”
“It’s different,” Harry said vehemently.
“It wasn’t different for him,” Ron said quietly. “I sat here having an identical conversation last week, only it was you in the bed.” He shook his head, “Look, mate, you know I’m not ever one to advocate for talking things out, but…” he trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid.
The trouble was that Harry didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what to say to Ron or Draco. Before he could come up with anything, Matilda came out of Draco’s room. She nodded at Harry, “You can go in now,” she offered.
“Is he going to be here overnight?” Ron called.
“He’s regrowing bones, Auror Weasley," she replied over her shoulder. "Yes, he’ll be here overnight.”
Ron winced, “I’m going to go pick up Indian and bring it back. The food here is terrible.”
“Thanks,” Harry replied.
“Go on,” Ron said, nudging Harry toward the room. “Go get things sorted.”
Harry sighed, but squared his shoulders and stood up, moving toward the door and summoning every ounce of his Griffyndor bravery.
When he got to the door he knocked before entering. The moment Draco caught sight of him he groaned, “Potter, please. I can’t take the lectures right now. Regrowing bones is a bitch.”
Harry drew up a chair beside his bed and didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he took a slow deep breath and said, “You terrify me.”
Malfoy rolled his eyes and then winced in pain.
Harry continued before he could say anything, “And I know I sound like a complete hypocrite-”
“Too right, you do,” Malfoy grunted.
“But it scares the shit out of me,” Harry pressed on. “Draco I can’t-” he broke off, shaking his head and the other man turned his head to look at him more fully. “I can’t lose you.”
“And you think that I can lose you?” he countered.
“I don’t know,” Harry said, “I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
He glanced up in time to see the hurt flash across Draco’s face before he reigned it in. “Fine. That’s fine. Put in the transfer request and I’ll sign it.”
“No, I mean all of it,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “I can’t do the cases, I can’t be the reason that people get hurt.” He shook his head, “I’m tired, Draco. I’m so tired.” He swallowed, "and I want my life to be more than this.”
Draco looked away, staring unseeingly at the set of drawers across from his bed. “Well, I wish you the best then,” the other man replied, voice cold as stone.
Harry swallowed and summoned up a bit more courage, “Leave with me,” he said.
“What?”
“Leave with me. Let’s start our own business, we can become private investigators and get out from under all of the bureaucratic bullshit. Or let’s do anything else. Literally anything. You want to have a coffee shop? Done. Quidditch supply store? I’m there. Want to remodel homes? Count me in. I will do anything that you want to,” Harry closed his eyes, imaging it, then he said, “because if we’re not Auror partners anymore, I can finally tell you the truth.”
“What truth?” the other man asked hesitantly.
He took a deep breath and blew it out before sitting up straighter in his chair. “I’m in love with you,” Harry said simply.
Draco blinked once, then a second time as he stared uncomprehendingly at Harry. “Potter, what?” Draco spluttered. “I’m the one with the concussion here, not you. Did you hit your head? Are you feeling confused?”
Harry laughed, “No, I’m not. Honestly, everything feels simpler than it has in ages. I don’t expect you to feel the same or anything, we can stay friends-”
“Are you joking?” Draco asked and Harry winced and looked down at where his hands were clenched, clasping one another. The other man continued, “You don’t expect me to feel the same? How could you possibly think I don’t feel the same?”
Harry’s head snapped up, “What?”
“Potter, I’ve been in love with you since the Alvarez case.”
“Really?” he asked incredulously. That case had happened years ago at this point. It was one of their first cases together.
Draco nodded, “It’s stupid, but watching you with that little boy-”
“Julian,” Harry said, nodding at the memory.
“You were so sweet with him and so protective. And I realized that it wasn’t an act, it’s just who you are and I was doomed.” He shook his head, “Of course I’m in love with you, you idiot.”
He stared at him for a moment, looked into those clear silver eyes that he loved so much, “Can I kiss you?”
“Very gently,” Draco replied, “Because as much as I would like to kiss you, my head is still killing me and I’m not supposed to move my neck very much.”
Harry huffed a soft laugh before moving closer. He cupped his cheek and gently trailed his thumb over Draco’s bruised cheekbone, trying to avoid causing any more pain. His eyes flicked up to Draco’s before he closed them and leaned in touch their lips together. Two soft pecks were all he allowed himself before pulling back and brushing a feather-light kiss over his temple.
“Ah!” Ron blurted from the doorway, making both Harry and Draco jump, “Sorry, I’ll come back-”
“Ron, it’s fine,” Harry said, pressing one more soft kiss to Draco’s forehead before collapsing back into the chair beside the bed.
“No, I want to have plausible deniability at the Ministry when-”
“I’m quitting,” Harry said.
“We’re quitting,” Draco added.
Harry grinned at him, “Really?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling back.
“And you should quit too,” Harry said, turning to Ron, “Come join our private detective firm.”
“But first, bring us that Indian food,” Draco said.
Ron rolled his eyes, “Years of this,” he said gesturing between the two of them. “Years of watching you two idiots pining after one another and that’s it. You just decide to quit?”
“Yes, well,” Harry replied, clearing his throat, “I think I’m going to need to have more free time than the ministry allows.”
“Oh, is that so?” Draco replied with a smirk, his voice smooth like honey.
“Alright,” Ron said, “That is enough of that. If you want me to come work with you, we’re going to need to nip that in the bud right now.”
Harry laughed and held up his hands in surrender.
“I am happy for you two, though,” Ron said.
“Me, too.” Harry replied. Suddenly looking forward to the future more than he had in a long time.