With Harry’s disappearance, Draco could feel his reality sinking back in. What the fuck was that? Well, it was the best kiss Draco had in years. Harry wanted him. Harry wanted Draco. Harry had wanted to kiss Draco. Harry didn’t hate him. Harry didn’t want to hex him or call the Prophet and crow over what a lovesick fool Draco had always been. Harry wanted to take Draco in his arms in a dirty festival bathroom and suck his tongue. The newfound knowledge of all this was caroling merrily around in his skull.