Harry felt Draco’s smile like an arrow through his heart, painful and reinvigorating. It was just out of his peripheral vision, hearing like he would when laying in bed in the dark; feeling it like in a kiss.
“That’s incredible,” Harry said, his voice and smile softening with fondness. He had once again turned his back against the window, staring at his own empty desk, picturing Draco at his. “I’m so glad to hear. Congratulations.”

It took hearing those words from Harry for Draco to realise that it had been what he had been missing for this entire time. Of course, several others had congratulated him, mostly Buchannan and Hannah, but none of the well wishes had ever reached him the way that Harry’s were.
He knew why that was, he knew that it was because he loved Harry so desperately and he wanted to get to share his life with him again.
“It’s been a lot, it hasn’t really had time to sink in yet,” Draco said, even if that wasn’t entirely truthful. It had definitely sunk in well enough, he just desperately needed Harry to confirm it.

_________________

Harry took a deep breath, hit with the familiarity of the sentiment.
“I know,” he said on the exhale. There were still days he woke up palming the other side of the bed, still convinced Draco would be there; that had yet to sink in, too. Part of him hoped it never would, still not ready to let go of that memory.
“It will,” he said, regardless. “You deserve it.”

It felt both magical and deeply saddening to hear Harry’s voice again, too filled with the knowledge that this was all it could ever be ever again. Then again, maybe this was going to be enough. After all, he hadn’t had any promise of Harry’s continued dedication to him before, so maybe this was going to be enough for him.
“Thank you, Harry,” he said in a soft voice, a soft smile on his features, desperately wanting to believe both Harry’s words and his own thoughts.

_________________

Harry allowed Draco’s words to be punctuated by silence; not because he didn’t have more to say to Draco, but because he feared that, if he got started, he might never be able to stop.
“Of course,” he eventually added, softly.
Looking at his own empty desk, the room flooding blue with the approaching twilight, Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that Draco was still at work. It made a sense of aborted deja vu flare within him, the impulse to urge him to stop for the night itching in his fingertips but lacking a proper outlet.
“I’m really happy that you called,” Harry went on instead. “Call me again some time, will you?”

Draco had no real concept of how long they had been talking, but he knew that it didn’t feel like near time enough. Still, he also knew that no amount of just talking would be able to satisfy the itch that was growing in his fingers, unsure whether the conversation had made it better or worse.
“I will,” he said with a soft smile, knowing that he wasn’t going to deny himself this much, even if he still wasn’t sure if it actually helped.
“It’s been really nice talking to you again.”

_________________

Draco’s promise to call him again bloomed in Harry’s chest, a stupid little sign of hope and expectation, despite knowing nothing would ever come of it.
“Likewise,” Harry replied regardless, though nice didn’t even begin to cover it; hearing Draco’s voice had felt like getting a full breath of air after months under water.
“Please tell Laura thanks,” he added, an attempt to prolong their conversation, feeling their goodbyes in their pauses.
There were months of backlogged things Harry wanted to tell Draco, but it felt almost vulnerable to begin, as if it only reaffirmed just how long they had already been apart. Harry wasn’t sure he could stomach that.
Shifting in his seat, a fragile little smile pulled at Harry’s lips. “Bye, Draco. I’ll talk to you soon.”

______
It had been a week since their first phone conversation, and Draco had been chatting with Harry every single day since.
He knew that it probably wouldn’t do them well in the long run, just constantly trying to avoid the inevitable, but Draco was having a really hard time caring too much about that. He had gone through the heartbreak of losing Harry before, so having this sliver of hope seemed to be worth it.
Uncharacteristically for himself, Draco had decided to take his dinner in the sunroom, finding that when he was sitting there, Harry’s voice in his ear, he could almost believe that it was like the good old days.
“Honestly, I don’t understand why Hannah had been complaining to Laura about me moping,” Draco said as he stabbed a green bean on his plate, the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, such that he wouldn’t have to forgo Harry’s voice for as much as a second.
“I don’t go running and complaining whenever she is in a foul mood, because she has had a fight with her girlfriend.”

_________________

Harry was leaning over the kitchen counter, resting on his elbows as he finished the last few bites of his reheated shepherd’s pie. The phone was propped up against the backsplash in front of him, Draco’s voice a little grainy through the speakers, though it didn’t matter when it instead filled the room around Harry; looking down at his plate, Harry could almost imagine Draco speaking to him from the room next over.
It had been like this for the past week; trying not to remind himself that they weren’t actually in the room together.
The slight comparison to Connor’s partner, however, had Harry glancing up at the phone, a boyish grin helplessly tugging at his mouth before he caught himself, knowing he would never be to Draco what Connor’s girlfriend was to her.
“Maybe she has a right to complain,” he said instead, a shadow of what he had wanted to say. Still, the smile persisted in his voice. “It’s an awfully long time to still be moping. Even I thought you would’ve gotten over it by now.”

The statement almost felt like a stab to his heart, knowing himself too well to ever think that he would be able to get over Harry, potentially ever. That felt like too much to say out loud though, too close to something that he had been edging around for so long that he wasn’t sure he would be able to still keep it in.
“Because I famously just let things go,” he stated, looking at the remnants of his dinner in front of him, feeling quite certain that he wouldn’t be able to finish it. This past week had meant the world to Draco, getting a small taste of how it would feel to have Harry back in his life again, even if he knew that it was artificial.
Every time Draco had talked with Harry, it felt more and more surreal that he would never get to see him again, and Draco could feel himself get more and more desperate to share his life with him.
That was really the only explanation he had for the words that came out of his mouth next.
“I really loved you, you know?”

_________________

In a different life, Draco’s words would’ve struck panic in Harry, but now, none came. Had he known? It felt like they had said it before, Draco’s words washing over him with a deep ache of familiarity.
Harry turned his head, resting his cheek on his knuckles as he stared into the emptiness of his kitchen in consideration. As had become custom, they had talked through the onset of twilight, and once again Harry found himself almost in complete darkness.
“Yeah,” he admitted, realising he probably had known as much. It had been so palpable between it, so interwoven in every touch they had shared towards the end, that it couldn’t have been Harry’s love alone.
“I love you, too,” he said, the different tense escaping him without realising it; deep in the pit of his stomach it was irrelevant, interchangeable.

While a part of Draco had probably known that they loved each other, there was nothing comparing to hearing Harry say the words in present tense. It took his breath away and made the tears start pressing in his eyes, finding the entire situation so painfully unfair that he could hardly be within himself.
“Guess that’s why I’m still moping,” he added with a tired smile, trying to keep his voice from breaking, but it was difficult. The confirmation that Harry loved him made their separation harder, knowing that they could really have had something, had the entire world not been so staunchly against them.

_________________

Harry heard the tremor in Draco’s voice, forcing his attention back onto the glowing screen of the phone. The sight still sent a pang to Harry’s heart, especially sorry that they couldn’t be in the same room for this. But, then again, maybe this conversation needed that distance, seeing how they hadn’t been able to admit this to one another before.
“In your pristine, new office?” he instead started, desperately going for light-heartedness. “What a waste.”
A smile pulled at Harry’s lips, a stupid, indulgent moment where he allowed himself to pretend they had split in order for Draco to advance his career; not because being together was killing Harry.
“If you’re not even enjoying it, you should’ve just come with me.”

Despite himself, Draco choked out a laugh at that. He desperately wanted to live in a world where he could have just come with Harry, where this separation wasn’t absolutely crucial for Harry’s continued survival, and for a brief moment he was allowed to indulge.
“It is a very nice office,” Draco said, not wanting to linger too long on how it would feel to wake up with Harry in a small cottage every single day. It hurt too much.
“They gave me one of the newer ones, you know?” He added, finding that talking about the mundanity of his job almost could make him forget the earth shattering revelations they had just made to each other. “I think Tsai insisted that I needed one of the nicer ones, now that I am working for two departments.”

_________________

Harry hummed a little appreciative sound in lieu of a reply. Despite being gone, he knew exactly which offices Draco was referring to, shortening the open room of the DMLE bullpen to add a new row of offices. In between all these major changes, quitting the Auror’s had been a surprising weight lifted off of Harry’s shoulders, but still, in moments like these, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would have been for Draco to have an office just a few paces down the hall.
“Are you going to sit for the Inspector’s exam?” he asked, finding it so apparent that, despite his supposed moping, Draco was being fast-tracked in his employment by both Paul and Tsai.
“With your new shiny office. It must be coming up.”

If Draco was being entirely honest with himself, he really didn’t care too much about the trajectory of his career when he was talking with Harry like this. However, he felt like he had to try and muster some enthusiasm, just so they wouldn’t have to end their call on a sour note.
“Buchannan has been talking about it, yeah,” he said, almost feeling a little shy about all of the attention he was receiving about his job, not sure how much he actually deserved it, but at least he knew that Harry was no longer there to pull the strings.
“Both he and Tsai want me to have some administrative privileges I can’t get unless I’m inspector, so I think that it is on the agenda, but there is nothing official yet.”

_________________

Settling himself a bit better, Harry pushed his plate aside, crossing his arms against the counter. He could move to sit more comfortably, ideally wanting to fall asleep to the sound of Draco’s breathing, but leaving the kitchen would only serve to remind himself that he was home alone, still.
“That’s so exciting, babe,” he said, partially for Draco to hear, but equally for himself to be reminded of the advancement of Draco’s career. Now, it felt like a given, but it was only a year ago that Draco was working alone and publishing his findings under a pseudonym.
“I’m really proud of you,” Harry encouraged, his easy smile mercifully alleviating the bittersweet sentiment of it. “Soon you’ll have so many titles they won’t all fit on the door.”

The sincerity of Harry’s comments was almost enough to make Draco tear up, so desperately wishing that he could get to actually share these experiences with Harry, and not just through the phone.
“You flatter me,” he said with a soft voice, leaning back in his chair and thinking back to times where Harry would have been sitting next to him. Right now, he regretted his decision to take his dinner in the sunroom, unable to ignore the fact that this was where they had first kissed; a fact that now felt so endlessly heavy.
“I’ll keep you posted about it, if you want.”

_________________

Harry couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling like the response had to be obvious enough that it was posed as little more than a rhetorical question.
“Please do,” he replied, so genuinely invested in Draco’s life, that he couldn’t think of a single thing he didn’t want to hear about in great detail.
Pausing for a moment, Harry considered going on, striking up another tangent of conversation, but the room was pitch black around him, and rationally, he knew he had to let Draco go for the evening.
“So yeah, let me know,” he started, finding himself struggling to find the words to start his goodbyes, so eternally unwilling to. He had straightened his posture, picking at a crumb on his counter. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah? I love you.”

It was no less shocking hearing the words the second time around, but somehow Draco felt prepared for them this time. In a way, Draco knew that they had loved each other for a very long time, so hearing it said out loud felt like it had been a long time coming.
That didn’t stop the shivers from running down his spine though, feeling excited that he actually got to hear that from Harry, even if their situation wasn’t exactly ideal for it.
“Talk to you later,” he said, a soft smile on his lips. “I love you too.”
______
It was a stupid idea and Draco had known that it was a stupid idea ever since it popped into his head.
Under normal circumstances, Draco would have never even entertained the thought of asking Hermione Granger for help with anything, but he really couldn’t see any other way he would ever be able to succeed with the project he had gotten himself into.
Ever since he and Harry had told each other I love you, Draco had been unable to let go of the idea that he would be able to get rid of the residual dark magic within him. His rejection from the inspector position had only made his cravings stronger, realising that the only thing he truly wanted was to get to be together with Harry again.
Now, Draco was standing in front of Hermione Granger’s office door, knowing that it was a long shot, but he was desperate and if anyone was going to be willing, and able, to help him it would be her.
It took everything within him to raise his hand, finding his hand endlessly heavy, but the reminder of what he had to win was what finally pushed him to manage to actually knock on the door.

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