Apologies Are

Infuriating

Infuriating.

In Harry's mind, that one word summed up Draco Malfoy better than anything else.

The blond Slytherin was absolutely infuriating.

All Harry wanted him to do was apologize for treating Hermione the way he had. She'd only been trying to help, after all, and in Harry's mind that certainly did not merit her being turned into a Persian cat. All she'd done was accidentally spill a potion that had turned Draco's hair purple, and the color had already started to fade and would soon be completely gone. Although, in retrospect, Harry supposed that the choice of animal could have been worse.

Nonetheless, Draco had been in the wrong, and the proper thing for him to do was apologize. Instead, Harry had received a door slammed in his face and a "Go to Hell," from his lover. Draco had been holed up in their flat ever since.

Harry was fed up with the entire situation. After all, it was his flat, too. Would it kill Draco to just say...

"I'm sorry," a quiet voice said, and Harry spun around so quickly that he nearly fell over. Draco was standing in the doorway to their flat, one hand braced on the doorframe and the other placed on his hip. He was wearing a rather petulant expression that any other day would have brought a smile to Harry's face.

"What did you say?" Harry asked instead, disbelief apparent in his voice.

"I said 'I'm sorry'," Draco replied through clenched teeth.

Harry sighed and brought both his hands up to frame the Slytherin's face.

"Now was that so hard?" he asked, and leaned in for a kiss.

~*~

Waiting

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and shifted his weight from his right leg to his left, hip jutting out slightly. Behind him the bell tolled the hour, the chime ringing twelve times.

Draco was late.

Harry let out a sigh of exasperation. He considered himself a fairly patient person. He didn't mind waiting, although like most people he preferred to be on time and for his companions to be on time.

But Draco was never on time.

Harry heaved another sigh and shifted his weight again, glancing at his watch. When Draco had owled him yesterday, he'd told Harry to meet him at Platform Twelve at exactly eleven o'clock and that he "promised to be on time". Harry had rolled his eyes in response, but promptly marked the time on the calendar. He hadn't actually shown up at the station until 11:30, and sure enough, just as he'd been expecting, there was no sign of Draco.

Forty-five minutes later, he was still standing on Platform Twelve, Draco still hadn't arrived, and Harry was starting to get fed up. Was it so hard to simply be on time? Why was it that Draco constantly kept him waiting? Did he not realize that Harry had better things to do than stand around a crowded train station, getting bumped into by luggage carts, mothers with small children, or people trying to make their trains?

Just as he'd made up his mind to leave, there was a slight tap on his shoulder. Harry turned, preparing to unleash his anger on whomever it was, only to stop suddenly as he found himself face-to-face with a very tired, very apologetic, Draco Malfoy.

Harry's words died on his lips as Draco gave a slight smile and said softly, "Sorry I'm late."

Harry sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of contentment as he folded Draco into his arms and held him tight, realizing once more that really, he didn't mind waiting -- especially not for Draco.

~*~