(Drarry) Faking My Own Death

"But I can feel it take a hold
I can feel you take control
Of who I am, and all I've ever known
Lovin' you's the antidote"

Harry didn't mean to faint into Draco's arms like he was a 1960s fanboy at a Beatles concert, but well here we are. He wished he could blame it on the fluttery feelings in his stomach, or the fireworks caused by Draco's kiss, but he felt in his bones another fainting spell would be due soon.

Plastering a sliver of a smile on his face, Harry had returned to a playful tone. Anything to get people to stop worrying about him for two seconds, even if that person was Draco. Draco seemed to believe his act and helped him on his way back to Hogwarts.

Harry had hoped to be done by now, but he hadn't calculated in the other human needs that existed besides rest. He couldn't go to sleep yet, he had to eat breakfast first. And then, breakfast meant interacting with dozens of people buzzing after their victory. It meant being social, wasting energy he didn't have, and sitting amidst noise he couldn't stand right now.

Yet, it was quieter, easier, than imagined. With the bodies cleared out of the Great Hall, it had once again become the gathering point for everyone who had fought on Harry's side. A lot of students had left already, their parents having picked them up during the lull after the last battle. The usual suspects remained, still. The Order, Dumbledore's Army, most of Hogwarts staff.

Molly Weasley and her sons were setting up a breakfast buffet, while Arthur Weasley gathered plates of food for those more seriously injured, who were stationed elsewhere.

Professor McGonagall lovingly fussed over Madam Pomfrey, insisting she sit down and eat, while the witch only wanted to keep working on her patients. Professor Sprout told her something that calmed her down, finally accepting a croissant and a cup of tea. McGonagall smiled and her eyes met Harry's across the hall. She sent only a proud nod his way, having let her hair down, sipping on tea herself. Harry wanted to talk to her, but decided he could still do so later.

Draco let go of Harry's hand and eyed the buffet.

"You go ahead and find a spot to sit, I'll get you some food. What do you want?" He said.

Harry yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "Anything's good."

"Not very specific, but I can make it work." Draco sighed but his quick smile showed he didn't mind.

Harry trudged over to Dean and Seamus, being careful with every step. He may not have actually died (or at least not permanently), but he nevertheless felt stiff as a board. Dean patted on the bench next to him. Harry sat with a deep sigh.

"Hey, how's it going?" Dean asked when he sat down.

Harry didn't bother faking a smile. "I could close my eyes for a thousand years, that's how it's going."

Seamus chuckled. "Well, we're glad you didn't bite the dust, mate. Quite the spectacle you put up there."

"I guess. It's not every day you defeat Voldemort and end a war decades in the making." Harry answered.

Dean and Seamus shared a look. "Not that." Seamus said, nodding his head in Draco's direction, over at the breakfast buffet.

Harry peered over, seeing Draco talk to Remus Lupin of all people, while loading up two plates. He looked nervous as all heck, but in a cute way. He dropped a couple of potatoes while he held one plate too crooked, and in correcting himself a croissant dropped from the other plate. An amused grin danced on Remus face as he helped Draco gather the food back onto the plates.

Harry turned back to Seamus and Dean when Dean nudged him. "How come you didn't tell us you were bi?"

Harry shrugged. "I wasn't really looking to- I was... preoccupied."