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Draco sat back down and held out one of the cups of tea. “You’re really very lucky to have a friend like Granger.” He frowned. “Or, Granger-Weasley, I should say now.”

“According to her, I’m lucky to have you, too,” Harry replied. He took a sip of his tea. “Mmm, perfect.”

Draco’s lips curled upwards in a small smile, but he shook his head. “I was the one who let you step through that doorway.”

“And then you divided your time between being here with me and looking for a way to cure me,” Harry said firmly. “So, like I said, I’m lucky to have you, Draco.”

Draco looked up at him, shock in his grey eyes. “Since when have you called me Draco?”

Harry realised his mistake, but then abruptly decided that it wasn’t a mistake at all. “Since I decided that I like you, and I want to get to know you better.”

“You would like us to be friends?” Draco asked, hopefulness in his tone.

“No,” Harry said, and he watched as Draco’s expression closed up again and his eyes dipped away. He remembered what future Draco had told him, the anniversary they had spent together, and Harry realised that if he wanted a chance for that future to come true, there was something he needed to do. He reached out and curled his fingers in Draco’s collar, pulling him closer. “I want more than that,” he said, and kissed him.

It was just like their kiss on the sofa in the future; hot and sweet and perfect, Draco’s fingers trembling as he lifted his hand to tentatively cup Harry’s cheek, his tongue hesitant against Harry’s own, until Harry deepened the kiss and his instincts kicked in. Something clicked inside Harry’s chest and he whimpered into Draco’s mouth, wanting more, wanting it all, and hopeful that he’d get it.

A brief glimpse wasn’t enough for Harry, not anymore. He wanted everything, and now that he knew what everything looked like, he was going to move heaven and earth to make sure that he got it.