missing-him-thing

"Did you miss me?" Draco asks.

He’s teasing. Teasing and amused, and he doesn’t mean it, doesn’t expect a serious answer, or an answer at all, so Harry feels quite within his rights to shove Draco away, scoffing. Draco laughs, and it’s not the snide, mocking sound from their childhood, the laugh that used to make rage bubble in every delicate vein, as fierce and forceful as dragon-fire.

Did you miss me?

Every damn day, Harry doesn’t say.