Not only had Harry messed up and wound up walking out, but it had been Draco's eighteenth birthday. That made everything so, so much worse. And so now he was scrambling to make it up to Draco in any way that he possibly could. It was hard when it was last minute, and he knew that Draco was down with Severus and would be back any minute... but he was trying his best.
So far, he'd managed to transfigure some cutlery into roses and had strewn petals haphazardly about the bed... Draco's sheets were already worth more than half of those in Gryffindor house combined, so he knew better than to try to make them silk or anything. He'd managed to get a bunch of candles levitated into the air, though, as wel as multiple burning upon stands throughout the room, casting a glow over everything. The place had been cleaned up, a clear path to the bedroom made.
Hoping that Draco wouldn't be upset with him for it, he'd donned the boy's leather pants... and was unsurprised to find that he could hardly breathe. The things he did for his lover... Either way. There was another rose on Draco's pillow, as well as a small present. It had been hard, but he'd managed to scrounge up what he hoped would be a good gift for Draco. It was two relatively plain silver rings... but hopefully it would at least get the point across.
After coating his lips in strawberry lipgloss and setting it on the bedside table in Draco's room, Harry was now stuck pacing the room, waiting.