Harry was pretty much scrambling. Draco hadn't made any attempt to initiate contact since yesterday. He wasn't quite back to stage zero, as Draco would still allow his presence at his side and make small conversation, but the sweet affections were gone, as well as the morning gifts. 

When Harry had tried to ask Draco to spend some time with him after dinner, after following him and Pansy all the way down to the Slytherin common room, the blond had simply said "I'm busy" and shut the portrait in his face. 

Harry spent the next several hours in bed, thinking about what Draco liked- but Harry couldn't really think of a time when he'd comforted Draco, or done anything really to benefit the blond at all. Draco's attention had been so fixated on Harry that he hadn't realized he hadn't really been doing anything in return. 

The only time he could think of was at the manor, when he'd talked with Draco. Just talked and comforted him, listened to him talk.

Maybe that was it. Draco rambled when he got upset; maybe Harry just had to listen- and without arguing in his own defense. They'd been talking in the bathroom, but Harry was defensive- he felt bad but wanted to protect himself so he'd argued against what Draco was saying and how he felt. And then he could... Apologize. Properly. Not apologize and add a 'but' or defense- just straight up apologize. 

Trying to kiss him hadn't worked, consoling touches hadn't worked, general conversation to keep casual hadn't worked... So maybe this was it. Talking. Communication.

He just hoped it wouldn't go like the last time, in the bathroom.

Slinging his invisibility cloak around his shoulders (Merlin knows he was too desperate to wait until the morning), he quickly made his way for the dungeons.

Luckily, Pansy and Blaise were headed out the portrait just as he got there, and he managed to slam his foot between the portrait and the wall, biting back his cry of pain so they wouldn't hear him.

Based on his one visit to the Slytherin dorms, and the stories Draco had told him, Harry knew that the layout of the dorms was fairly similar to his own, and headed to the right of the Slytherin common room, opening the door and heading up the stairs. It was sad, how little people there were- after the war, most parents didn't dare send their Slytherin students back to school in fear of the harassment and bullying.

Harry thanked his lucky stars that all of the Eighth years got their own room in the dorms and, upon a quick check of the Marauders Map, confirmed that Draco was indeed alone in that room. He slowly pushed the door open, not wanting to make a sound, and succeeded in sliding himself in and closing the door behind him silently.

Draco was sat upright, a soft magical sphere of light glowing above his head as he shuffled through books. He'd open to a page, skim for a few seconds, then sigh and put it down, only to repeat the process with a different book. Occasionally, he picked up a quill from his bedside and jot something down on a piece of parchment and then go back to flipping through pages. 

Finally, Harry tentatively cleared his throat, pulling the cloak off of his frame. 

Draco glanced up- not even moving his head, just his eyes- before resuming his ministrations of the book. "Breaking the rules again, I see."

"You say that like I ever stopped." Harry took a step towards Draco, but based on the tense nature of Draco's shoulders, he didn't resume after the first step. Just stood. "What are you doing?"

"Studying."

"Studying for what?"

"Law."

"Law?"

Draco glanced up once more, but this time just to roll his eyes. "That is what I said, isn't it?"

"Well... Why are you studying law?"

"Because I want to."

"Because..?"

"I want minors to be properly advocated for during trials."

"You want to be a lawyer?"

"For children. Yes."

"I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't."

Harry winced but decided to let the harsh comment slide, instead taking a few steps forward, waiting for Draco to tell him to stop or leave but he never did. So instead, Harry advanced until he was standing right next to Draco, looking over the books.

Wizarding Law: Explained, Vol. 43

Harmful Intent with Harmless Spells

Muggle Integration of Law into Wizarding Society

Sociological Study 12- Undeveloped Brains and Their Limitations

The Psychology of the Child

Abnormal Childhood Psychology, Version 6

Exploitation of Underdeveloped Children

All of them were extremely thick, textbook-style books that seemed to weigh at least twenty pounds each, and there were more on the further side of his bed on the floor- all stacked up like a secondary wall.

"Merlin, that's a lot of books."

"If I want to be allowed into so much as training, I'll have to pass the W.A.L.E.E. with beyond exemplary scores. Even then, it's not guaranteed."

"W.A.L.E.E?"

"Wizarding's Advance Law Entry Exam. It's like O.W.L.'s but specified in law fields."

 "Why isn't it guaranteed then, if you get good scores?"

"A man was turned down for entry because he drunkenly crashed into a witch on a broom once. They don't like a criminal record, and being a convicted felon with war crimes under your belt isn't exactly palatable in the eyes of the law division."

"They got you with war crimes?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, Potter. There are many war crimes, and Death Eaters hit just about every mark. Atrocities or offences against persons or property, murder, ill treatment or deportation to slave labor, murder or ill treatment of prisoners, killing of hostages, torture or inhuman treatment, plunder of public or private property, wanton destruction of cities, towns or villages, and devastation not justified by military necessity- those are just a few of the official war crimes."

"What did you have?"

Draco sighed again. "I'm officially charged with manslaughter, murder, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, criminal stalking, espionage, endangerment of minors, inhumane treatment of hostages, atrocities against a person and destruction of private property."

Harry blinked. "I don't know what half of those mean."

Draco was silent for a minute while stacking books by the side of his bed, leaving a space at the foot of the bed clean. Harry took the silent invitation and sat.

"Manslaughter is involuntary murder- it's often used in muggle car accidents where doing something reckless or dumb causes the death of another. Murder is, obviously, the willing taking of another person's life. Attempted murder is trying to kill someone and failing, and conspiracy to commit murder is talking with someone else about the murder. Criminal stalking is... yknow... Stalking. Espionage means being a spy, endangerment of minors is causing or providing a situation where underaged persons could be hurt, inhumane treatment of hostages is obvious, atrocities against a person is... The whole genocide of someone different than you due to personal hatred. A lot of racist crimes fall under atrocities against a person, since it's hard to find direct proof of actions due to a specific trait, like race or ethnicity. It's a very broad term, but mine specifically is for the whole being a death eater thing. Destruction of private property is also obvious."

Harry frowned. "I can't... I don't recall... It doesn't seem like half of those are fair."

"No," Draco replied quietly. "They're not. A lot of these crimes were blanketed across everyone who was branded by the Dark Lord. It's unjust, especially to the minors like Pansy and Blaise and Theo."

"And you."

Draco paused. "I was far more involved than any of them were."

Harry shook his head. "I... This isn't what I came here to talk to you about."

Draco leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "What did you come here for, then?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I... I wanted to apologize. Even if it was an accident, I had no right to leave you for as long as I did and just forget, so I'm sorry. About everything. For leaving you, for scolding you, for refusing to understand or even try to understand. And I'm sorry for... Not really knowing you. I've been so caught up in myself I didn't... I didn't even stop to think about you. And you're right. I... I don't know what to say or do because I wasn't paying attention to you, you were right. I was content myself and didn't bother to try to learn or do anything about... Y'know... You. You were so focused on me and that's all I could think about because of that." Harry paused, then rushed out, "not that it's your fault! I just- I was always the center of everything and I just... Yeah."

Draco's expression hadn't changed for the entirety of his rant, yet alone the entire conversation, which really made Harry nervous. He hated how well Draco could mask his emotions. Even when he'd been crying in the bathroom, he couldn't really tell he was crying until he'd noticed his eyes being bloodshot and the tears leaking from them. 

A.K.A. Draco didn't show his emotions unless he wanted to, and his unwillingness to show how he was feeling made Harry nervous.

Harry shifted the slightest bit closer, glancing down at Draco's legs to make sure he didn't crush them before looking back up at the blond.

"... Will you forgive me, Draco?"

Draco took a moment to reply, finally managing out a choked response. "Fine. Yes. But I will never forget these, and I expect some change. Do you think that's fair?"

Harry nodded so fast he felt like his head was going to fall off. "Yes. I do. I'm sorry and thank you. For forgiving me. I... Can I..?"

Somehow, Draco got the message from just the few vague gestures, and he scooted further down the bed, pulling the covers back, allowing Harry to lay on his stomach between Draco's legs, resting his head on Draco's lower abdomen while Draco pulled the covers over Harry's shoulders, looking up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What's your favorite color?"

Draco glanced down at him with a frown. "Now why would you ask that?"

"Getting to know you."

For some reason, Draco rolled his eyes. "Mm. Guess."

"Being the conceited Slytherin you are, I'm guessing green."

"I do like to wear deep greens- they go well with my complexion- but it's not my favorite color, no."

Harry frowned, listening to the faint sound of Draco's heartbeat that he could hear through the soft skin of his stomach. "Hm. Blue?"

"Nope."

"Black? Silver? White? Gray?"

"All no."

"Red?"

"You fucking wish."

"Something boring like brown?"

Draco snorted. "Also no."

"I give up. What's your favorite color, Draco?"

"I like purple."

"Purple?"

"Don't laugh at me." Draco pinched at Harry's scent gland rather sharply. "They were always the first color of flowers to bloom after winter. Even if there was still snow on the ground or a vicious frost, these little purple flowers would break through the snow. They were tenacious and consistent. I admired it. Became the color of hope for me."

"Gotta admit, that's a good reason. What shade of purple do you like most?"

"I've never seen a shade of purple I didn't like, but I am particularly fond of dark purple. A pastel, almost lilac color is good too."

Harry nodded. "Those are good shades. I don't think I mind purple. Do you know my favorite color?" Harry fully expected Draco to guess wrong. 

"Green."

Harry gaped. "How did you know?"

"Deductive reasoning."

"You're such a prat."

Draco just smiled down at him- the first smile Harry had seen in days- a soft, small, yet content smile. 

"I know."