cocoavanille

[cocoavanille]

Rebuild | for @drarrymicrofic | little nsfw at the end

Harry knew it's possible to rebuild from literal ashes, he's seen it done by many – Hogwarts itself, his friends and acquaintances. Everyone has been talking for years how he's done a great job at it, but he never felt truly recovered to the fullest. His best guess it had to do with the foundation – sometimes he had to viciously fight the urge to just disappear into thin air and start over.

In the middle of autumn, shortly after Luna came back to the country to present his gift for the 26th birthday, aurors get a case. Someone's getting into the most sealed ruins, temples and such, stealing magical artifacts of immense powers. And vanishes successfully! Infuriating how good the criminal is. The question is, what are they going to do with said artefacts? The lyre of Unseen breaks Kingsley's patience – they can't risk someone opening a rift between the realm of the dead and this one.

– I've brought in assistance from the French Ministry. They had a somewhat similar case two years ago, might get some insight. They'll be here tomorrow morning.

– Let me guess: be nice.

– You better, this was a hard trick to perform – some can say I'm abusing connections.

Harry smirks, shaking his head.

– No promises, but my team will try our best.

"The Keyholders" were a special french auror unit, specialized in abuse of rare, ancient and prohibited magic – they would normally give that type of job to a pairing of an unspeakable and an auror here. Harry has worked with their leader, Alexander, on an international case when he was just starting as head auror. They've cracked the mystery in a span of five days. Being paired with someone older, knowledgeable and actually reliable was a good experience. So was the celebration at the bar. Naturally, he felt quite calm about the joint effort...

Before Alex entered with his two coworkers, all dressed in noble blue uniforms. He hasn't seen him since year after the trial, when they've been given information on the remaining death eaters' hideouts (that turned out to be correct and got Narcissa a right to divorce and get out of the country).

– Harry, Ron, pleasure working with you both again. Hopefully we'll be done quickly, I'm not in a mood to miss national quidditch championship... These are my best and most efficient, that being said a little feisty – Nicole Richard, one of the best alchemists and death magic experts and Draco Black – our curses and enchantments specialist.

His eye twitch hasn't gone unnoticed. Alex smiles in a burning sun manner, shaking his hand.

– I expect us all to catch your mysterious thief and be on our ways. Nicole, behave, would you?

– No promises, chef. Mr. Potter looks like an agitated cat right now.

Alex sighs, Harry gives a lighthearted laugh.

– It's just an encounter I'm a little surprised with, that's all. Hi.

For some reason he doesn't feel the need to find the right words – it's been ages, really. And he can tell by the eyes, Draco in front of him has very little to do with the seventeen year old one.

– Long time no see, – Draco smirks the same, but the look is soft and apologetic, – didn't mean to startle, but your superior said we're dealing with someone skilled in enchantments, so.

– It's fine. And Nicole, I'm actually quite flattered – people usually compare me to a fire spitting cobra on a good day.

– To be fair, Harry, you're worse.

Rosa, their youngest, scoffs and he gently levitates a book to her head.

– Let's get to work.

The mood immediately shifts, everyone locking in. Ron finally breathes out.

Additional cast definitely helps with the case. They successfully find two of five stolen artifacts, get into combat with the guards and gain criminals' identity from them. Draco keeps it strictly professional, almost disappointing – he hoped for some fiery banter for once! Life is dull enough.

While they're preparing for an ambush, Harry just can't take his eyes off the sillouette wrapped in maddeningly fitted blue uniform. Pure torture, if someone cared to ask – band-collar around the pale neck he feels drawn to, beautiful hands, left one with a familiar white scar, quickly organising first aid potions, concentrated frown. Long hair tied in a simple yet perfect brade and those hips and ass, Merlin, to die for. Has he always been this handsome and pretty or he's got more into assholes as the time went by?

– Focus.

Ron pushes him with an elbow and Harry finally averts his gaze. There's no way Draco didn't feel how hard he stared. Shit.

– I'm perfectly focused.

– Yeah, sure, on dinner. Hungry, aren't you?

If they were alone he'd hit him.

The ambush goes as planned except for being transferred into a handmade domain where they have to play a survival game. Brilliant sunday activity, a dream one might say. Space magic is tricky – you have to understand the rules to get out without a scratch or alive at all. He gives up on running around after getting an alchemical burn and being scolded by Ron. Damn his right hand man for being a smartass. Runic protective field envelops them, finally allowing to breathe without a pressure inside the chest. So this wasn't a gas, a charm.

– Weasley's right, there's definitely an easier way to get out.

– Have a theory?

– Sort of. The sigil formed by the alchemical fire was based on older system and ancient runes. We tried numerology and it didn't work, so I'm guessing the key is written in those. Every trap has to do with fire and spirits, we haven't seen signs of curses. There's no end or beginning, but endless angles and rooms that seem to change positions. Rings a bell?

Harry blinks, realisation hits him like a depulso to the face.

– We're in a mirror space pocket! But how– Shit.

There was a mirror they haven't noticed. It was just painted black. The fucking floor. Ron crushes out for five seconds and then suddenly stops. Turns around, takes a loot at the "ceiling". Smirks.

– Oi, Black, how about a lightning to the core? Everything here is a trick of the light, it can only target us if we're visible by image and energy. What if we literally overload and "blind" the enchantment?

– Should work paired with a mean dispelling, if you can create a strong enough strike that is.

– Mr Potter can, – Alex gives him room in the centre with a nod, – do the dispelling part.

– We either get out of here or die, right? Finally my type of job.

Harry jokes, concentrating energy on the tip of his want. Alex wants to count, but it takes one look for him and Draco to hit the ceiling in perfect synchronization.

Loud vibrating sound echoes around, disorienting them, but he manages to petrify the criminal as soon as his vision catches a figure in a real hall. It's over.

After swinging the theif into jail and signing papers, everyone quickly leaves to grab a coffee and he's left alone with the object of his sudden (not so much) interest. Draco patiently treats his burn, mixing salve with a neutralising spell. Harry breathes in deeply on the most damaged part and momentarily a numbing charm lands on the skin, soothing his pain (and soul it seems). Draco's good at it – no marks left, which is a rare occasion with alchemical burns.

– Thanks.

– No need.

Draco tiredly rubs his forehead and regains focus, checking the weather outside through the window. Autumn is generous with rain per usual.

Harry gains some courage from the fact that he doesn't leave immediately.

– So... You're free tonight?

Draco raises a brow at him in disbelief. Then the gaze shifts, as if suspecting the worst.

– Why?

– Hoping not eating dinner alone for once.

– Isn't that what friends and team are for?

– You had plans.

Harry deduces, a little defeated for some reason. Of course he was going to either peacefully rest or get a drink with Alex and/or Nicole. She's beautiful, actually and quite impressive. Why wouldn't Draco have plans–

– I can cancel on Alex. Gladly so, actually, he seems extremely tired. What do you have in mind?

– A mediterranean place owned by Sicilian couple.

– Count me in.

Draco agrees after pondering for a few seconds. Adds while putting away the potion:

– You should be mindful about interacting with artifacts of unknown nature, the fire could've been a curse.

Harry wasn't expecting to get scolded by his highschool arch-nemesis today, but the night is young.

– Since when do you care?

– Since when do you ask me out on a dinner date after burning a hole in my pants with your eyes? Not sure I want to find out, but alas it's rude to deny the chosen one a chance for a better ending of this crazy day.

Harry bites down the smile. It's been ages, yes. Felt like centuries. He missed him. Them.

With the last spoon of gelato Harry finds himself hopeful – maybe it's not too late to rebuild himself yet. If Draco managed, he definitely can.

– No offense to skill level, how did you manage to land a job at the ministry?

Draco pushes his portion towards him, noticing him eyeing the almond cake for good five minutes. Harry suits himself while Draco licks a bit of sauce from that soft lips of his. Delicious.

– It's kind of a mixture of luck and chance really. I was going to be – and am – a curse breaker. Alex was giving a few lectures on curses that affect the mind at the academy during my last year and then saw our duel club championship. Asked if I ever thought of joining the aurors. I said no.

Harry smirks, knowing damn well where this is going – if Alex wants something he's determined enough to make it happen.

– Fast forward half a year, I was assigned as an expert on one of the auror missions. And here we are.

– I'm glad you're ok.

Harry suddenly admits without a warning, making Draco loose his composure for a moment.

– And I'm surprised you still haven't told the ministry to leave you the fuck alone. After everything.

– There are worst fates than being the national hero.

– Are there?

Harry doesn't answer. Sometimes it's better to focus on the sweet parts – the cake and how Draco tugs on his hair couple of hours later. Bedsheets in disarray, heart singing, heat building.

– You're impossible. A braid and tight pants for work, really?

– You look good in uniform too. Quite– ah, fuck...

Long pale neck finally gets marked, Harry melts at how Draco lets him hold his thighs and set the pace, taking in every bit of warmth, gently rubbing his back until he lets himself loose and suddenly nails dig into his shoulders. As they should've been for years.

Draco returns to France, but he doesn't feel even slightly sad – there's an address and a communication crystal on his desk. Sweet promise, hopefully one they both can see through.

– So-o, – Ron greets him with cocoa and cinnamon rolls in the office, they're alone for now, – wanna tell me all about that dinner?

– Fuck off.

Harry rolls eyes but feels grateful for the sudden support.

– That Nicole is truly something, terrifying woman.

– Your type, as far as I know.

– Said a man who's type is bitches.

– Fair.

The cocoa is especially comforting today.

•

In a year Harry finally feels like he's fully rebuilt. He sold Grimmauld place, setting himself free of an illusion of at least some part of Sirius being there. Moved to a nice green neighborhood, got a cat – black fur, geen eyes, one could mistake Onyx for his animagus form. Hermione once did, providing him a laugh of the month.

Draco has a room in his home, Harry gets one in Paris. They're together as often as possible, planning a vacation. It's good like that, comfortable – he misses Draco a lot (who would've thought, huh), but loves his space and rare moments of peace.

He's truly been everything – a hero, a villain, a story, a saviour, a pawn and a king.

Now It's time to be Happy.

For once, for someone he's just Harry. An idiot who forgot to wear the same socks again and the best lover ever, according to a certain blonde.

"The best lover ever" is definitely a title he prefers over "The British saviour". It's humane.

[cocoavanille]

once the guest are gone 💕

[cocoavanille]

Tsuna loving how plumeria smells and looks and Xanxus getting him a perfume that resembles his usual picks (citrus-y woody, sometimes warm, sometimes fresh), but has a strong plumeria note, saffron and some hint of burnt wood in it.

– Is this a portrait of sorts?

– Right, Vongola's intuition. Yes it is.

Tsuna smiles, inhaling the scent again and puts it on.

– It's very comforting and vibrant at the same time. Surprised you see me that way.

– Hard to ignore a wildfire, isn't it?

– I'll take it as a compliment. You're more of a volcano, I think.

– Scary and stinky? Watch your mouth, I can still fry your ass.

Xanxus smirks without a real bute. Tsuna halts for a moment and hits him with:

– Hot and groundbreaking, really.

Xanxus also takes it as a compliment.

Judging by the look Tsuna gives him, it definitely is.

[cocoavanille]

My favourite KHR degree headcanons are Xanxus the vulcanologist and Mukuro the neuroscientist.

Tsuna with the double major/bachelor also (one business/management related on Ninth's wish and psychology by choice)

[cocoavanille]

For @drarrymicrofic | brave

Harry never thought about it like this before Hermione pointed out: "sometimes gentleness requires a lot of bravery".

In three and a half years him and Draco are a couple ("partners" is his preferred word – in love, law, crime and whatever life throws at them), and even before that, Draco was always first when it came to showing affection and making the necessary steps.

Five years ago, when they met again after the hearing. The evening after they closed the Manchester serial curser case, Draco was sent in as an expert curse breaker by the Academy.

– I don't expect you to like me. Just let me do my job and I won't interfere with yours ever again.

– Guess you're learning, after all.

– Would be stupid not to. If I ever commit a crime again, it better be for a more exciting reason than whatever that fever dream of a teenage experience was.

Harry laughed, unable to contain himself and they both immediately felt a sense of peace falling over them, relaxing shoulders and jaws. Draco paused for a moment and presented him with a chocolate and cherry candy, one of his favourites.

– You look tired.

– You're ugly too.

Harry shrugged, but smiled tasting rich chocolate with a delicious sour punch inside.

– You have a lot in common with this candy, you know.

– ... You're so fucking weird.

– And you're a prat.

– That would make you two a fantastic couple.

Ron snorts, nearing, waving the paperwork at them. Harry sighs. He's a national hero, why does he have to write reports?!

Their first date was magical – in every sense imaginable. Draco asked him out and took a week to prepare a beautiful evening near the lake, tent filled with aromas of well cooked meat, red wine and spicy cocoa. Harry was sceptical at first, thinking Draco wouldn't bother even showing up, but was blown away by details and softness in his tone and gaze. Then it hit him – it's not a game and he's not the only one battling feelings.

Draco held his hand during their first kiss – patient, careful, light. Almost innocent. Harry wanted to devour him, but immediately changed his mind, allowing true intimacy. Draco blushes adorably when he's the one being kissed, it turned out – a theory later confirmed time and time.

He definitely didn't expect Draco, who's been borderline obsessively working on lifting a curse from the object aurors have found lately, to show up in Mungo's.

– What's with that look? I'm fine.

– You have magical burns on half of the upper body.

– And completely fine.

Draco sighed and let in a nurse that observed him performing lifting – these types of curses couldn't be dissolved via potions only. Draco's magic was soothing and sharp, gently running up and down, soothing his skin and mind.

First sex was... Surprisingly sweet. Harry usually preferred heated interactions, less talking, more actions type of encounters. Draco hasld changed his preference drastically – turns out you can see stars while being taken care of with so much devotion and love you feel like falling apart.

Now it's his turn to be brave. Not because he has to, but because he wants to.

Kiss on the wrist makes tired Draco freeze for a second and look up from the research notes. Deep frown gets a little lighter.

– Is everything okay? Is it the light–

Harry pulls him up from the chair and waves the hand at the record player, eyes locked on his gorgeous partner.

– Dance with me. Please? Work can wait, you're exhausted anyway.

After a two second internal debate Draco gives him a warm smile and happily gives in, one hand on his shoulder, fingers warming his. Harry loves seeing grey eyes sparkle with joy in little moments like this.

– What did you do, Potter?

Harry smiles like he's hiding something and gives Draco a kiss that immediately melts him.

– I love you, – Harry whispers in his ear, cheek to cheek, – I really do.

– Scared?

Draco asks with a hint of genuine curiosity. His willingness to accept everything can't be perfect between them almost pisses Harry off. Because he's not willing to accept it.

– You wish.

Or maybe he's brave enough to realise there's no shadow hiding in the corner, not this time. They've learned their lessons, now it's their turn to be happy. And if anything stands in their way... It's in a strongly unfavorable position.

Draco's magic feels uncharacteristically warm and silk-like after he fucked him speechless. They need a vacation for more gentleness and fire for sure.

– Hey, wanna escape somewhere Mediterranean? For a week or two. Or forever, for that matter, love the climate.

Draco brushes fingers through his hair like they're the most precious thing on earth and his heart sings.

– Why are you suddenly being romantic? You don't need to prove anything. I'm not mad at you.

– I know. Just... Exercising in bravery.

Draco doesn't get exactly what he means, but assumes he's in the mood for cuddles and stands right. Harry always sleeps peacefully beside him, safe and content in scarred arms. He traces the lines of sectumsempra on still flushed chest, mindlessly muttering:

– In a way, it's like I left my mark on you.

– Well. Let's hope there's no prophecy about one of us having to die in order for the other to live.

– You'd be lying breathless in a minute.

– True.

Draco laughs and pulls him closer, kissing his forehead.

– Good night, Harry. You're making breakfast.

– Huh?!

– You've disturbed my work, remember?

– ... You accept apologies in form of pancakes?

– Add raspberry jam and I'm all yours.

– So cheap, Malfoy. What would your mother say?

– That I'm an idiot and would be correct. It's all your doing.

– How is you being the dim one my fault?! Uh–

Draco shuts him up with another kiss and he suddenly doesn't want to win the stupid fight. More cuddles and round two however seem like a great idea.

[cocoavanille]

Steal

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt, “steal.”

“Nice statue.”

Harry downed his firewhiskey before turning away from his golden likeness.

“It’s stupid. I hate it.”

“Hm.” Malfoy sipped his drink, considering. “We should steal it.”

“What? Why?”

“For fun.” Malfoy grinned, eyes glittering. “To cause mischief. To fix your poor nose.”

Harry laughed. “It is bad, isn’t it?”

[cocoavanille]

Expect | for @drarrymicrofic

Thank you for your kind words and comments in tags! And for bringing creativity to the space.

This top-class curse breaker sent in their aid by the french ministry is nothing like Harry could expect. First time he read "Draco Black" in the file, he frowned – Black, huh?

Sirius confirmed his suspicions.

– After the war ended, with Bellatrix dead by her hands, Lucius being a mess and everything else, Cissa took the kid and moved to France with Regulus. Can't blame them, I ran away too, just in a different way.

– Well, with how Andy and you described Narcissa a few times, we'll probably be dealing with an entitled arrogant brat.

– Honestly? No idea. I don't think I ever truly understood her or my brother, they're a mystery to me. Let's just hope Draco is as skilled as they say, we seriously need help with this case.

That would be true: they found the crazy wizarding guild's laboratory, but can't access it because of the layered curses. They tried, of course, Bill also took a chance, all ended up in Mungo's. It's like a mystery box, never guess what you'll be hit with next.

When he first sees Draco, something internally stills and calms down. Eyes a very specific shade of grey reminiscent of the sky above the sea after the storm's peak has passed. There's something icy and windy about him. Then Harry witnesses his magic and understands he felt it's essence with that association – it's incredibly precise, cold and yet soothing, almost like a lullaby.

Draco spends a day around the spot and then decides on a method he almost wants to scream not thinking about – energy transmutation and manipulation. If you can't safely lift the curse just transform all the power into a neutral and then disperse it or lock away. Brilliant, how the fuck none of them came up with that? Oh, yeah, there's a matter of absolutely enormous amount of dark magic powering these charms.

– Transmute it? Are you mad?

Harry asks with a raised brow, but Draco doesn't flinch, staring at him with unhidden distaste. Answers politely, starting to prepare the sigil on the ground in fron of the door to the lab.

– If you don't want help, why ask for it? Mr Potter, I'm sure you're a well-known auror for a good reason. Let me do my job so you can continue with yours.

Harry thinks he's a fool and steps back. They'll just write it off as an accident. He stays to witness the idiot meeting his end, nothing more.

And then magic happens. Draco takes a few deep breaths, filling lines of the sigil he stands at the centre of with his energy and then some weird sort of black mirror appears, starting to draw in the curse. Hours pass and the building is free of everything heavy and dangerous, filtered energy being gently distributed by wind magic and pulses Draco sends to the ground through his body.

When the ritual ends, Draco puts his wand in a holder, steps out of the sigil and cleans it away with a flick of the wrist.

– Good luck with your investigation, Mr Potter.

He turns to say he's misjudged him, but notices Draco activate some sort of balancing charm by touching the vintage ring he had definitely seen somewhere... Regulus' photo mom had. Harry decides to part ways quietly with a "thank you" that Draco politely returns. He has no idea about Narcissa and Regulus' part of the story and something tells him it's not as simple as Sirius makes it to be.

They find many leads that help them catch and defeat the guild.

Everything Harry can think of, however, is how nice Draco's hair looked, touching his shoulders and if the charmed tattoos on his fingers and neck hurt during the procedure. He never asked Sirius if his did, assumed it was the same case as muggle ones.

Unable getting Draco out of his head for a month, Harry finds the address and decides to send a message. Seriously, what the hell?

– You with a quill and a few ripped pages? Outside of detention? What are you doing, writing a love letter?

Hermione lightheartedly jokes and Harry stills with a confused smile.

– No?...

Is he? Does love from the first sight exist?

Guess he'll find out. If Draco writes back that is.

He does.

With all possible respect, Mr Potter, do fuck off. I can tell your intentions just from the phrasing. Find another handsome boy for a vacation fling.

P.S. A letter, seriously? With your level of magical agility?

Harry smiles. Jerk. A pretty and petty one at that. And undenyingly smart. He was thinking of having a one night stand to get him out of mind and move on, but something tells him it will be impossible to not fall deeper.

Figuring out how to crack the chimney in another country takes two evenings. Weak security system, honestly.

His face appears through hot embers.

– What If I'm into you for more than a fling? Will you give it a chance?

Draco freezes for a second, shoulders stiff, then turns and sits next to the chimney.

– Did anyone teach you about personal space?

– They tried.

– And failed, evidently. Perhaps I wasn't clear in my rejection, there – I'm not interested in you in any capacity outside of work. Leave me alone.

Ouch, Harry thinks, freezing cold! Not that he can't take a "no" for an answer or haven't been rejected before, but with Draco he's not giving up so easily.

– Why? You don't even know me. We can go on a date and see how it goes.

– If you're always that annoying, I don't think it's worth it.

– Okay, okay, I was an ass when you were there and made fun of you in front of the team, I get it. I was wrong, you're a decent professional. Can we schedule a date now?

Draco thinks for couple of seconds and then something sends a shiver down Harry's spine. It's the smile – gentle, sweet, completely fake.

– Next Sunday, Audrey's Sweets in Paris, ten fifteen am.

Oh, so he doesn't mind seeing him in France. Wonderful.

– Deal. Up for a bet? If you like me after, I can tease you about it for the rest of your life.

– If you want to waste time, fine.

There's something about his tone that makes Harry almost want to take it back – he did all of this half on principal, half to humour himself and get rid of obsessive thoughts. Now he feels truly challenged.

– We'll see. I'll be there at ten.

Draco, to his surprise, shows up. Gives him a chance and avoids making quick judgements, which is evern more surprising. After breaking the ice and finding a common ground in music, it becomes clear Draco just doesn't like people pushing and invading his space, which he did from the start. He's surprisingly sweet, actually – shows him around the city, takes him to a quality bookstore when he mentions a need to buy a present for a friend who loves reading. Harry makes him laugh three times. Counts for something, right? Previously he thought Draco was pretty, now he knows he's beautiful and it's not even about the gorgeous body. The resilience and some kind of deep rooted understanding of self are far more attractive.

Harry falls and soars in the grey skies, knowing the gentle winds will catch him. By the end of the night Draco looks at him with warmth and interest.

– I guess you can tease me for the rest of my life.

– Not before I kiss you.

– And that, my dear sir, would be a second date activity, – Draco stops his movement with a firm hand to shoulder push, – I can make time for a London night out on friday, don't know if your schedule allows tho.

– Unless we'll have an insane dark wizard on the run, I'll make it.

– It's a deal then.

Draco smiles – just a hint, and lands a kiss on his forehead. Harry, used to heated interactions and quick development, suddenly blushes.

– What for?...

– Being a patient good boy.

Draco smirks and he changes that smug face to a surprised one with tickles, his secret weapon.

The portkey spits him out in the London outskirts. He waits out the dizziness and apparates home.

Couple days later, when they're alone at the auror headquarters, Harry decides to test the waters.

– A little personal update. I think I'm falling in love with Draco Black, any thoughts?

Sirius pauses for a moment, makes sure to look him in the eyes to confirm it's not a prank and massages his temples with a pained expression.

– Good luck with that one, you'll need it. No idea why you're into the guy, considering he turned out to be an efficient, yes, but indeed moody broody spoiled brat. You were right.

– Well, as Remus has stated years ago, my type is beautiful bitches.

Harry laughs it off, then asks directly.

– Is there anything you want to tell me about why he didn't say a word to you that wasn't work-related?

– Why would he? Regulus practically raised him, from what I've heard. To them I'm a family traitor who has no concept of loyalty. To me they are a girl too smart to ever be happy that will remain a cold bitch for the rest of her life and a brother I once deeply cared about.

– Before what?

– Before he thought following the dark lord was a good idea.

– But he helped with the horcrux hunt, you told me yourself, mother did too.

– He also was the first who understood Voldemort uses horcruxes and there's a reason for it. Look, Harry, there's too much bad blood, you can't fix everything with love and conversations. Even if you really want to. Good luck with Draco, but I'm sure neither I or Reggie want anything to do with one another. Let it stay that way.

First time Harry meets Regulus, he understands. That's the eyes of a person who cherishes very few people. As for the rest of the world? He'd rather see it burn, once they're gone.

Draco is a little similar, as he finds out on the second year of their relationship. The difference being Draco will curse a government official and steal him on the way to the trial if it means keeping him safe.

People often turn out not who you'd expect them to be.

Sometimes it's a curse, but others definitely a blessing – snowy hair in his fingers, sweet moans silenced by the pillow.

Sometimes love finds you in mysterious ways and places when you least expect it.

[cocoavanille]

Drarry AU

Harry is raised by his parents + wolfstar and Draco by Narcissa and Regulus. (Lily basically led the horcrux hunt with Remus, Cissa the spy and others. Voldy is dead-dead. Reg is alive thanks to Cissa being in the cave with him (time, Black blood magic and a little (huge) law breaking). Lucissa divorced when she found out she's pregnant and he almost figured out she's a double agent. Lucius is completely out the picture and yes, Draco calls Regulus dad.)

So there we have Harry Potter, the golden boy, son of the heroes, loved by everyone and spoiled by Sirius Black. Kid has a good heart, bravery of a thousand man army and alarmingly little understanding of consequences. He's already friends with Neville and Ron when they go to Hogwarts.

Draco is great at keeping up social appearances but prefers to read, play the piano or study curse and enchantment related magic in peace. Theo and Daphne are the only people he isn't turned off by among peers before the school starts.

Draco could not care less about where the famous Harry Potter ends up, but Daphne sighs when the hat decides he's a Gryffindor. He gets sorted into Slytherin which surprises no one.

For the first two years of their school life Draco thinks they have nothing in common and decides to keep distance aside from necessary interactions. Harry likes it that way too – always with his Gryffindor friends, making stupid jokes and showing off.

During the third year happens Hermione Granger, his partner in crime in visiting the restricted section of the library. They're not too close but have a common interests in runes, ancient enchantment methods and often share first two places in the grades ranking, with occasional addition of Theo or Harry.

– Draco, can I ask you something?

– Sure, doubt anything will piss me off more than this potions assignment.

He puts down the quill, rubbing his eyes. Stupid Snape with his obsession over understanding the alchemy behind the interconnection of ingredients. It's a cool part of potion making, no doubt, but for years 5-7, not three. Hermione hesitates for a moment, then gets that confident look in her eye when nothing could possibly stop her.

– I need you to accompany us to the forbidden forest tomorrow at night.

He almost chokes on air, drowsiness disappearing in a second.

– ... Pardon?

Hermione leans in and whispers, face blank to not attract unnecessary attention.

– Ron and Harry were there yesterday and saw someone... taking dead hippogriff apart. They had special cases that fit all.

– Smugglers, – Draco concludes almost inaudible and looks at her, disturbed, – but what are you going to do? We should tell the teachers, this is ministry level business.

– We need to find out where they're based or some traces, otherwise the risk of exposing ourselves could be too high – imagine if they won't find anything and we just end up expelled!

Draco closes his eyes for two seconds. Unbelievable. No sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

– And you need me because?...

– You're the best at sound muting charms and distractions.

Right. A compliment to sell him on this reckless business. Letting them go there alone doesn't sit right with him.

– I'll bring backup.

Hermione probably thinks he's talking about enchanted protective stones. She's wrong.

They meet at ten near the eastern entering route. When the trio sees Snape they immediately tense.

– That's the backup?! I mean, good evening, professor...

– It's either me following you to check, being expelled right away or death of unsupervised students in the worst case. Miss Granger, I'm genuinely disappointed in your decision making this time. Mr Potter, mr Weasley, I suppose you can lead us to the spot you last saw the supposed smugglers?

To everyone's surprise, Harry, who's relationship with Snape balanced between mutual hatred and admiration, silently moves towards the forest. Draco catches up with him for a few minutes.

– Not to ruin your evening but this didn't feel slightly safe. Nothing personal.

– It's fine. Believe it or not I was pondering whether we should tell McGonagall.

Only at this moment does Draco notice how hard Harry is gripping his wand. Unusual for someone confident in a duel. Whatever he saw before in the forest made an impression. He doesn't like this at all.

They come across the murder sight. Ron casts enough light so the soaked into the dry ground remaining blood can be seen. Snape commands to look away, found something in the distance. A beak, it has no value on the black market. Shit. They're right, it's definitely the smugglers.

– We're returning to the castle and you tell the headmaster exactly what you saw then. Understood?

– Yes, professor.

Couple of metres away from the spot they suddenly hear a loud cry in the distance, reminiscent of horse somewhat and Draco shudders. Flashes of blue and green follow, Snapes gestures to stay quiet and casts nox, surronding them with a veil.

If there's one thing he's good at after growing up with mother and uncle deemed traitors by Voldemort's followers who didn't leave them alone for the first eight years of his life – hence him spending almost six months each year in France – it's sensing danger. Ron and Hermione hide behind Snape and him and Harry cover the sides. Draco carefully takes out two black agate stones with runes carved in and places one into Snape's palm, trusting he's smart enough to feel the shape with his fingers. Snape silently throws the second stone into the area where they heard just cracks and thumps before. Now they have an audio of the chat between three men discussing what's going to sell best – the heart or the teeth, used for heavy restorative potions... They're killing thestrals! And plan to return to the "local base". Huh? Somewhere in Hogsmeade, maybe? Draco can't think straight right now.

After what feels like an eternity, criminals leave the area and they all let out a sigh, quickly returning to school. At least that was the plan.

– Harry?

Hermione calls out, alarmed. Draco turns his head and finds out Potter isn't nearby. He's not dumb enough to get lost, so that means... No way. What a fucking idiot!

– Expecto patronum! Minerva, listen carefully.

There's no way Ron and Hermione will agree to return to the castle, Snape can't let them go alone and they have no time to loose if Harry chose to follow the smugglers. So they follow him – Ron put a tracing spell on him so they won't get lost last time they were in the woods, smart move. The move that saves stupid Potter's arse and life.

It's an old warehouse on the way to Hogsmeade. Playing hero only works when you're lucky and Harry is indeed – they find him right in the middle of trying to survive five attackers at once. With some success he must admit, but that's no fair match.

One of the smugglers throws a blinding powder and all goes pitch black inside the previously lit building. He can feel Snape's protection charms coating them, a movement nearby and a sequence of steps, too heavy for a thirteen year old. Whispers a disorienting charm and drops to the floor, waiting out. Casts stupefy, dodges a fallen body on instinct. He can't see shit, this makes everything harder but hears light quick steps and the door swing open. Draco runs towards the sound, sensing Harry's magic getting away.

Once he's out the building vision slowly restores, eyes teary from the alchemical substances. He sees Harry in the distance, following a guy with two cases in hands, trying to escape.

– Incarcerous!

The attack fails and counter strikes. Harry returns the impulse back, dodges, and Draco finally manages to get close enough to cast a protego on him in time – an ice blade almost reaches Harry's neck.

– I have no time for games, have fun with that!

The man apparates away and they are left with some type of weird, pulsating shining sphere. It has... Veins. Green with a hint of dark and he doesn't want to know what this is, not really.

– Let's get back!

Harry glances at him quickly and shakes his head.

– This thing won't let us. Look around.

Following his lead Draco notices faint walls of some type of barrier. He tries to send a signal in the air but it dies out, evaporating. Wonderful.

– Does it fade out all magic or?...

– Trying to figure that out. Take a closer look, these arteries are alive, so there's definitely magic moving inside that thing.

Draco forces himself to push down the nausea and anxiety, comes closer to inspect. Curse no doubt, but what kind?

– Let's try thinking it through. We're dealing with smugglers, they're not fighters but this trick was ready to be used. For what?

Harry frowns for a moment and then looks up at him.

– Maybe it's a cage of sorts? For magical creatures. Snape mentioned once that certain ingredients are sourced while the animal is alive to ensure the power doesn't die out.

– ...Sound, but not reassuring.

– Better ideas, mr astute?

– You got us into this, don't look at me.

– So we're going to die from hunger next to eachother, great!

Harry scoffs and then suddenly freezes for a moment. Takes a deep breath.

– Sorry.

Draco softens a little, returning his focus to the task on hand.

– It's fine, I'm on edge too. Wonder if others are coming... Right, so this thing has energy circulation, holds the barrier and absorbs our magic.

Oh, no. Shit. This can't be the modified version of the space pocket curse Regulus told him about in the summer. Right?!

– Draco?

Never in his life he wanted to be wrong so badly. There's only one way to find out.

– I need to try something, step back.

He throws the agate stone to the barrier wall and it penetrates, but gets stuck in the air half way dropping, and then starts to deform and grow bigger. He's never helping Granger ever again.

– Congratulations, we're in a space pocket that is isolated from the usual reality. Which means even if they're searching for us–

– They're seeing a distorted space or an illusion and can't find us. Is there a way out? Aside from sacrifice, mother mentioned this type of cursed enchantments can be dispelled by dying wish, so–

– Absolutely not, nobody dies today.

Draco cuts him off with determination he didn't know he possessed. Think, for fucks sake, you damn nerd! Were all those books for nothing? They can't kill the caster, so only option is to do something with the closed energy system in the core...

– There's a way, but there's little chances of survival too, if I'm not to sugarcoat.

Harry stares, impatient but ready. Draco feels his throat dry out and takes a shallow breath in.

– We either need to empty it out–

– Or overload it! Got it. I doubt taking in whatever is in there is a good idea, so...

– Yeah. But we're lucky if the barrier goes first and we fall out of the zone, if not... Well.

Harry thinks for a moment and then just swings his wand at the core, transfering his energy. Draco follows, battling the desire to freeze and close his eyes, accepting his fate.

The core starts pulsating, changing to a more vibrant green and they feel the space around them moving, trying to shake off the unnecessary energy. A loud crack, sizzle. Draco turns his head around in time to see part of the barrier vanishing behind them, then notices the color of the veins change to dark red, pulses growing stronger. It's seconds, he doesn't remember exactly what he was thinking – just uses depulso to throw them through the hole in the barrier shortly before the explosion comes.

Something slashes or burns his skin. They fall on the ground.

When he comes to his senses, there's ringing in his ears – loud, uncomfortable. He tries to sit up and immediately regrets it, a sharp pain follows. Draco stares at his hands, like they've been a canvas for wood carving. Oh this magic will leave scars even healed for sure, he thinks absentmindedly, looking for Harry when someone helps him sit up and he finds a pair of green eyes before his own. He never noticed how beautiful the color is, nothing like the evil magic of the core, more like emeralds. Harry would look so good in slytherin robes...

– Do you hear me?

– Along with ringing. Are you–

– Fine, just burns like yours, but you managed to get me further to the left. The trees took big part of the impact.

– The fire-

– Already put it out. You seem like you're about to throw up, it's a concussion.

– ... sure feels like it. You could've died, what were you thinking?

– That I'll deal with them and we can call the aurors.

Unbelievable.

Draco opens his mouth, then closes. No words, just desire to smack him and no power to do so.

Harry unexpectedly casts a decent stabilising charm. Draco faintly smiles – listened during the basic healing spells course and stayed away from anything that can worsen the state without proper medics around. The dizziness and ringing slowly fade and he manages to stand up with Harry's help, noticing him shifting weight to the left. Right ankle looks horrible, not mentioning the burns that hurt like a bitch – he feels it too. They need to get out of here and back to the castle.

– You're not as much of a git as you seem.

Harry says suddenly and Draco laughs, feeling relieved and exhausted at the same time.

– You're not that bad either– We're here!!!

Hermione, Ron and Snape rush towards them. Draco just now manages to take in the surroundings. Wait.

– Why is the moon so high?

He asks confused.

– Was a time pocket also, It seems.

Harry states dryly before hissing after forgetting to not step on the right leg. Draco supports him a little, preparing for Snape's fury. But he only catches Hermione and Ron mid hugging Harry, checks their injuries and decides to talk after dealing with the aftermath. Apparates them to Hogsmeade in a heartbeat.

By dawn they're finally free of questions, scolding and are back at Hogwarts. Pomfrey did everything she could but they'll have to accept a few scars – Harry has one on the chin and a string on the right hand and leg, his are covering both arms, palms and chest. Not the worst case, they look like thin ornamental lines, almost white against Harry's slightly goldish skin and pink on his pale canvas.

He turns to the side, noticing Harry playing with the button on the sleeve of his shirt. They need rest, Pomfrey said and some potions before breakfast. Bet they taste awful. It's his fault – he should've waited until help arrived and not proposed getting out themselves.

– Want me to cast a sleeping charm?

– ... Yeah.

He quietly sings part of the lullaby mother used to when he was having nightmares and in a couple minutes they both fall asleep.

Morning marks the first day of their friendship.

The smugglers are caught and dealt with within a week: head auror Sirius Black and his right hand Lily Evans can be quite effective.

Regulus assures him there's nothing he's done wrong – judging by description, it was a curse that would've slowly transformed their magic into its own strength and killed them. The chances of others finding them in time were minimal.

– Draco, look at me. If it were any other kids, they would end up panicked and dead either by trying to get through the barrier, or by the curse. You did well, both of you. A few scars are better than being dead.

– A win is a win, I guess.

Favourite spicy chocolate makes the day a little brighter.

____

Triwizard tournament opens with great feast and everyone cheering Cedric Diggory on, Draco is no exception. The dining hall falls silent when another piece comes out the goblet of fire and Dumbledore speaks the name "Harry Potter".

Ronald takes the news incredibly well. Hermione is in deep thoughts, Neville decides to stay quiet. Harry is distressed. Theo voices Draco's thoughts:

– This makes no sense, he's already popular, capable and kind of famous. Why would he put himself into this situation? He doesn't need the hype.

Luna puts out the candle with wet fingers, lingering scent of sage and vanilla filling the air.

– I think we should be more concerned with who does. Probably some adult business that he's being pushed into. Draco, could you check on him later? Something tells me Harry will be happy to see you.

– Questionable, but was going to regardless.

Harry is a millimetre close to throwing a tantrum this school won't survive. Journalists make it a scandal – because of course they do – "Heir of house Potter desperately proving himself, breaking rules of magic", "Secrets of the tournament: who's the chosen one" and other bullshit. Welcome to year four. Draco tries his best to keep up with Harry's temper without snapping his or the quickly formed "opposition" necks. He knows a curse for that.

When Snape asks to come with him he doesn't expect to hear "you will be guarded by mermaids in the lake".

– Pardon moi?

– You heard me.

– Well, shit.

– Language, mr Black.

Fuck you, honestly, Draco thinks. All of you.

– Does the headmaster have any ideas how Harry's name ended up in the goblet?

– Not yet.

He writes to mother immediately. This isn't some kind of weird coincidence, someone wants James and Lily Potter's son dead.

Harry pulls him out of the water. Draco is cold, but safe and this makes a huge difference. He gets to the stairs on his own, nudging Harry to dive again after Fleur's sister – he already decided to do so. And makes it in time! Fantastic results. Draco throws a towel over his head with a proud "not bad, Potter, almost brilliant".

– Almost? I'm always brilliant.

Harry shines a dashing smile and Draco nearly falls for it. He notices the shaky fingers and blueish mouth. Thankfully, Hermione is here with some hot tea and sugar.

Dragon trial makes him go grey, he's sure of it. How Harry is staying sane between almost being fried by this beast, the press and Ron finally figuring out he might be in the wrong, he has no idea. Hopefully, him offering late night meetings with cocoa, conversations or sitting in silence help.

Dumbledore figures out who's responsible for the incident, the man gets caught and arrested, but since Harry is already part of the tournament he will continue to participate.

Draco joins the quidditch team to take his mind of things. It works unless he doesn't think of Harry.

The Yule ball is near. Draco almost forgets he's supposed to find a date until Harry awkwardly asks him if he's invited anyone. There's something in the way he looks at him that makes him answer honestly.

– No. You?

– Thought of asking Hermione since, you know, Ron is being stupid and I don't want to dance with someone I barely know–

– Great idea, I'm sure you'll have a great time.

– I meant as a friend! Hermione's great, but not like that.

– Yeah, I get it. I'll probably ask Daphne or Kira just to have some company for the dance.

Harry hesitates for a moment, rubs his scarred chin and asks with a weird expression.

– Do you like Daphne? I mean, you're childhood friends and all...

– Not like that.

– Oh. Great. I'll be going then, see ya!

Draco can't take his eyes from his back for some reason until the sillouette disappears. What was that about?

For some reason Harry sits by the window for most of the ball, only chatting with Victor Krum who's definitely taken interest in Hermione.

– You better up your game, Ronald. He's quite the charmer.

– Fuck off, Draco. I don't need help.

– Well, you've fucked up a perfect chance for a dance, made her cry an hour before and now reek of jealousy hiding behind the glass.

– ... A Hogsmeade date?

Draco rolls his eyes. Unbelievable. They're definitely best friends with Harry for a reason.

– Start with an apology.

Cedric Diggory becomes the Triwizard Champion. Harry gets home safe. Draco finally breathes with his full chest.

___

Through year six Harry slowly looses his mind. When did Draco become so hot? Has he been hot this entire time and he didn't notice? Or is it the summer break magic, enchanted tattoos on his hands and hair below the shoulders? He can't really tell.

Draco almost bests him in quidditch during training and Harry realises he's definitely not thinking of him in a friend way. Not after the thought of kissing Draco on the lips appeared, that's for sure.

He's confused. Not because he doesn't know what to call it – Sirius and Remus are right there – but how do you even... approach this. Like, he dated girls and it's the matter of being bold enough to make the first move, maybe gift some flowers she likes, steal a glance, later a kiss. But giving Draco a bouquet seems almost comical, he'll definitely hit him with it. Or not.

– Ugh...

Hermione side eyes him for a moment. Harry sighs. Drinks tea. Finishes his homework. Sighs again.

– Mate, what is it?

– You can't just want to kiss your friend right?

– Harry, I love you, but don't you even dare.

He looks at Ron with a baffled expression and laughs, shaking his head.

– You're safe, don't worry. But the question remains.

– Obviously not, – Hermione closes the book, curious, – so, what are you going to do about your obvious crush on we-know-who?

– Are you sure we mean the same person? I haven't even given you a clue.

– There's no need for a clue with you staring at Draco like you want to eat him. Or should I say devour?

– Shut up.

Hermione laughs and advices him to just talk. Like it's going to work!

– Hermione, I admire your optimism, but we don't even know if he's into boys.

Pause seems almost comical. Neville, who's been sitting next to him the whole time, suddenly speaks.

– If he's straight I'm a birch tree. Have you seen him?

– Listen, long hair don't mean–

Hermione's turn to roll eyes.

– It's not the hair, it's the behaviour. Haven't you noticed how he acts around you since the last year?

– Like usual?...

– I can't do this today, we have too much charms homework. Long story short, just confess and be done with it. Worst thing he rejects you and you move on.

Logically, it's the only reasonable way. Emotionally Harry feels ripping his heart out will be easier. It would be simple if he wanted to just have sex or go on a few dates, but that's not the point.

Since their week long trip to France this summer Harry can't help thinking about Draco differently. Seeing him interact with younger cousins and Narcissa was like finding out you have only seen a painting in the poorly lit room – there's so much colors, beauty to discover. Draco was surprisingly good at entertaining kids, drawing and playing piano. Those fingers on the keys pushed buttons in his soul he wasn't aware of before.

Draco read poetry to his mother when he walked into the kitchen in the night to get some water, helped her gather healing herbs for potions from the garden, teaching Elise, his youngest cousin about the properties of chamomile and calendula.

Draco silently layed on the floor in Regulus' study, playing with a bracelet he always worn since he came to Hogwarts, deep in his thoughts. Turned out to be Regulus' present for eleventh birthday.

– What's on your mind?

– Career path. Technically, I can just open a perfumery business or a charms shop to pass the time, there's no need to make money.

– But?

Harry sat down beside him, attentive and patient. Draco relaxed a little, closing his eyes.

– But I always wanted to become a curse breaker or do research on energy altering curses.

– I think you'd do well in the field.

– Thank you. I just... Don't want mother to worry each day of her life. How did your family take your decision of joining the aurors?

– As expected. Mom and Remus gave a strong no, Sirius thinks it's a good option. Dad asked to think about wand making as a substitute, I used to be into it between like six and thirteen.

– Thirteen? Did you change your mind after that smuggler business?

Draco sits up, piercing through his soul with the grey sky of his eyes. Harry smiles, averting his gaze.

– It's not only that. I always feel... weaker than I should be. All the challenges I face seem to be bigger, stronger and I don't like feeling small. Maybe going through auror training will make that feeling go away.

Draco doesn't judge, he never does. But asks with care:

– Do you want to become an auror or do you want to escape fear?

And it changes everything. Because, if he's not running from fear, he actually wants to fly and create magic, not fight criminals.

Draco feels like home. Like summer rain, cold and gentle wind, flower petals on ice and gin. Like spring, salt bath after a long day, sage and bergamot.

Hermione and Ron are his best friends, period. But his connection with Draco has become special – deep, unique, layered. He doesn't want to loose it. Harry wants to stay his friend whatever happens, but maybe that's a risk he needs to accept if he dares asking for more.

He's jealous of how close Draco is with Theo – both in terms of communication and physical stuff. There's no need to touch his shoulder while laughing or allowing Theo to fix his hair.

Mine, mine, mine, get away. Harry catches himself and does a mental exercise – Draco is a person, not his property, he doesn't have the right to tell him what to do.

During Christmas party Remus finds him in his room, sitting by the open window. Lights a cigarette, standing next to him.

– What's on your mind? Spacing out since you got home.

– I think I'm in love with Draco.

Once he says it out loud, magic happens – it clicks inside. Now he's sure. Remus looks him in the eyes and softly puts a hand on his shoulder.

– I think you have all the chances.

– How so?

– If I dare trust my judgement, I'd say he's been into you for two years or so. But Harry, hear me out on something?

– Sure.

Remus states that they're very young, but it doesn't make their feelings any less important. Harry smiles – he has the best uncle in the world. Sirius teases him with the fairy godmother title, Harry prefers this one.

– Your parents figured it out quite young, but there are many people who find love in their fourtees or later. Your first relationship doesn't have to be the only or the last one. There's no pressure to do everything right, especially now – just enjoy the experience if you can, learn and grow, however it turns out. And do make the first move, he'll appreciate that I think.

– Thanks, Remus. There's one thing I'll argue on tho – if everything works out I want this to be the last relationship.

Maybe he's being dramatic, Harry doesn't care. His feelings are always intense, that's the kind of person he is.

Courage, however, leaves him after realising that a possible "no" will ruin their interactions for some time and they won't be able to escape the awkwardness.

____

It's their last year of school when everything changes.

They've stayed to clean up after the dueling club contest. Their match was absolutely magnificent – he never felt that concentrated and drawn into another wizard's energy field before! They even flexed some elemental magic, then he went for heavy dark offence and Draco pulled out the runic shield card and transfiguration as a mean of combat. Such a blast.

Now they're alone in the room. He can't take his eyes off slender fingers with symbols tatooed on them, hand elegantly flicking the wand. Sharp jawline, pretty pointy nose, thin lips. How he wants to feel them on his, whisper stupid things into his ear, hold him. So close and unbearably far.

Draco turns around with a strange look on his face. Comes closer, and closer again, almost nose to nose.

– Want a rematch?

Harry jokes, breath hitching. Draco locks eyes, tone serious.

– Yes, but not today. Harry, I... Haven't been honest with you.

– What do you mean?

– When you asked me if you're my best friend, I lied. You're more than a friend to me, I can't stand pretending any longer. It's so stupid and yet I find myself wishing you could like me back. I know you're into bright, sweet, extraverted people that I have nothing in common–

Harry kisses him, cutting off the nonsense. That's why he haven't made a move for years? That's what he thinks, that he could never like him back? So much for the confident impenetrable persona.

How much pressure is he actually capable of handling? Each time Harry is afraid he'll break, he crystallises, transmutes into something new and beautiful.

He slowly breaks the kiss, meeting Draco's gaze and almost chuckles at how lost he looks. Cups his cheek with a smile, gently brushing blushed skin with his thumb.

– I love you, Draco.

A shaky breath becomes a laugh and Draco hides his face between his neck and shoulder, interlocking their fingers. Hand in hand, scar to scar. Heart to heart.

– I love you, Harry.

And suddenly, the future isn't scary at all. Whatever lies ahead, they can handle it – they're a great team.

[cocoavanille]

@drarrymicrofic | steal

The Ministry is in the trenches of an international scandal that wouldn't exist if Harry – of course he's the reason – Potter would know how to shut up at the press conference.

When Hermione starts a third circle of lecturing, Draco enters the room with a knock.

– Miss Granger, I have good news and bad news, but before that can I steal the chosen one for a minute?

– ... sure. I could use a break.

Hermione sighs, waving her hand. She's had enough of this circus for the next five to eight years.

Harry, eyes full of desire to curse someone, gladly escapes with him to another floor. Draco locks them up in his cabinet, soundproof charms everywhere. Pours him a cup of tea and places a piece of his favourite chocolate cake on the table.

– What's this about?

Harry asks, looking a little alarmed, but eats anyway.

– You haven't touched food in twenty hours, there's no need for you to appear in Mungo's. About the case on hand – I've managed to contact a few mother's friends in the french ministry and they will be able to help. Both with voting you to keep place in the international magical safety committee and dispelling slander on monday meeting.

– There's a price, isn't there?

– Always. But you and minister have nothing to worry about except giving me a two week vacation once this is all over. I'll be back shortly.

Harry doesn't like it. Doesn't like it at all. But this whole mess needs to be resolved or the ministry is going to drown in battling for public image and they can't afford to spend resources on it, not with black market being on the rise and a serial killer in Wales waltzing around.

– Dare I ask?

– Better not, sweetheart. Finish your cake and lets present Grainger with a little relief. Seriously, you two will send her to the grave with stress one day.

Harry smiles faintly for the first time in hours.

– You're so cute when you care.

– Ew. Drop that.

Draco makes a face like he's eaten a full lemon. Harry laughs and pulls him in by the tie for a long, chocolate and gratitude tasting kiss.

– Now I feel better.

Draco sighs, fixing his appearance and sips some tea from another cup, the one with lavender and white roses on it. Hermione's present for latest equinox.

– You're lucky to have me, Potter.

– Uh huh. I am, as they say, the chosen one after all.

Draco rolls his eyes to the core of the Earth and back and they finally go back to the conference room to ease miss Granger's mind.

[cocoavanille]

For @drarrymicrofic prompt: “brief”; wc 50

It’ll only be brief, Harry reassured himself through gritted teeth.

We’ll keep it brief, he and Draco agreed after they had fallen into bed with each other on the job.

“I’ll see you soon,” Harry promised when he kissed Draco next in parting.

“Forever,” Draco spoke on their wedding day.

[cocoavanille]

So I've been thinking – down the line MC for sure becomes a well-known producer and there are other groups and artists who want to work with her. If she chooses to do so, there are going to be different experiences. She's ultra kind and professional so mostly good ones but... Let's say meeting an artist who's a dick behind closed doors isn't uncommon.

So picture this. While Alltius are on a well-deserved half-rest after their comeback, gathering strength to go on tour, MC works with another group. For a while it's ok and then one evening she comes home and crashes on the couch in the living room with dead eyes, staring at the ceiling.

Finn and Shuu find her first.

– You look like your soul has left your body, want some hot chocolate?

– At this point it's a need.

– On it, miss producer, hold on there.

When it's just her and Shuu, MC asks quietly:

– Hey, you told me you know ___ leader. Is he always... You know.

– I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. Is he bothering you?

– How should I put it... I'm used to sexism in a male dominated field, really, but the degrading nitpicking packed with objectifying comments with a cherry on top in a form of inappropriate flirting was impressive today.

Rian who's been standing in the doorway for a minute scoffs.

– Right, so what I'm hearing is Hiragi getting a punch in the face.

– Rian, you're Not punching anyone.

– Yeah, don't waste your energy, I'll gladly do it myself.

Finn brought a glass of sweetened water so the wait for chocolate wouldn't be exhausting and listened in.

MC laughs, slowly sitting up straight and shakes her head.

– It's fine, If he speaks like that again he's gonna need to find another producer. I should've called it a day immediately but honestly was too shocked. Whenever his elder members aren't around he's like a complete different person.

– Good to know who to avoid.

– And don't be afraid to report him to the management.

Shuu adds, patting MC's back. Hikaru comes back from the store just in time.

– Report what?

– Our producer has been harassed for like half a day from what I understood.

– ... It's Hiragi, isn't it? So the rumours were correct for once. Sad. MC, wanna get out of that arrangement? I'll settle things, trust me – it was your first meeting to discuss the concept of the song, nothing has been signed yet, thankfully.

– If it's not too much trouble on your part.

Shuu sighs, leaning in.

– MC, listen. Even if it would be all trouble in the world, I'm quite sure all of us would feel more content with you being safe and comfortable than our reputation or whatever at the cost of your wellbeing.

The notification comes in. Hikaru reads the message and laughs somewhat nervously.

– There an opportunity to do a competitive game variety with ___ in two weeks. Dance battles and sports included. I guess it's a no?

– Hold on, – Finn smirks, looking at everyone with a glint of mischief, – how about crashing them instead of smacking the face of their leader?

– I'll outdance all of them, bring it on!

Everybody laughs at how serious Rian is, but MC finds it endearing.

Alltius smash the competition and gain themselves a lot of new fans after the show.

They come home to a special winners curry and their favourite drinks on the table.

– You didn't have to do all of this, – Noah points out, digging in, – but thanks.

– It's no trouble. But I also wanted to show my gratitude for throwing their leader in the water in line with the rules of the game. Didn't expect it at all, you guys can be mean!

– It was cold, I checked.

Ren states with a blank expression.

[cocoavanille]

Three, two, one... One two. Idols of Starlight fandom how's the mic working? Alright! Let's start our little radio programme.

Let's discuss something fun, throw in your questions or head canons under the tag.

I'll start: in the group (+ our beloved manager and MC) who do you think is most likely to try something bold and unexpected with their style on a whim or for the concept? Which vibe would they go for in your opinion?

My options:

• Finn trying out some heavy smokey eye just because he felt 🌟 intense 🌟 that day. Guys caught him in the living room and went "nah with that makeup you're not wearing that boring of an outfit" so he ends up in a full on visual kei. Fans love it, but he doesn't stick to it.

• Rian being proposed by their stylist to try long hair for the next album concept, hesitant at first ends up IN LOVE with having almost mid-back length. Bonus points for blonde+red color mix. When Alltius see him with extensions for the first time half goes loud with questions and half just stares in awe. MC is the first in line to braid his hair. Fanbase is in shambles.

• Ren jokes for weeks about slowly falling into his second angsty teenager phase and then starts wearing the most wild gothic accessories to events and total black looks at home (a hoodie to hide yourself and your sorrows in for the win). Shuu stops the madness with eclairs and a talk. Everybody kinda misses the broody Ren who made death-related jokes but it's probably for the best. MC thinks of a new solo song tho – that part of him needs space to show itself.

• Noah going for a more traditionally masculine, cool type of look overall: undercut and some change in clothes. It suits him but members still perceive him as their lovely youngest so he isn't getting any more leeway to play games till 5am.

And a bonus question: who would accidentally cleanse the fandom of homophobes?

I unironically think it would be either Finn or Ren commenting on some big "scandal" in the industry with the "not cool, some people need to get an education" type of line.

As a more fun option – Rian making his own choreo for Alltius stage with a lot of fluid movements and being openly disgusted with people calling it "gay choreo".

– Yall have no idea what kind of choreo you'd get if I wanted to make it real juicy, humble yourselves.

|the video gets deleted by the company to avoid drama|

But Rian is in for the big game, he IS the drama. Out of pure spite he covers like 5 girl group dances/challenges with maximum diva energy.

[cocoavanille]

I need more otome games with at least the ability to choose a male mc, a genderqueer option is a dream.

[cocoavanille]

Beliefs | bittersweet post-canon minific

Yura sighs, locking the screen, silently observes his puppy play with the cat. They're in Saint Petersburg, end of spring filled with storms and glimpses of sun. It's pouring outside and Yura just warmed up after a run to the bakery.

– Will he ever feel better? In that sense.

Victor pauses before answering. Yuuri is back in Japan for two years, he rarely picks up the phone and most of their interactions happen during asian shows nowadays. What's it been since their first visit to Hasetsu? Eight years?

– Depends on what he chooses to believe moving forward. Remember Miyazaki's version of Howls moving castle and Sofie's curse?

– You mean that she was adding to the effect with her own insecurities and lack of self worth?

– Exactly. It doesn't matter how much we, the fans or his family believe in him, unless Yuuri himself challenges how he treats and sees himself.

– I mean it got a little better when he went to therapy, but honestly the month he stopped going it all came back tenfold. It's not that he hates himself even, it's like... Loosing trust in yourself? And frankly I think that's s way worse. What?

Victor ruffles his hair in a reassuring gesture, smiling at the pets playing. Was a good idea to bring the puppy for a visit, little ones have some entertainment at least.

– There comes a point when you can't help someone. Focus on what is feasible. It was his choice to leave this chapter behind and there is nothing we can do to assist him in his growth anymore.

Yura has an almost magical ability to look someone in the eyes and understand exactly what they're feeling, no matter how hard you hide it.

– He hurt you. You never talk about the breakup and it's been years.

– And dumped you as a friend. I would argue this type of breakup hurts more.

– It's weird, isn't it? He's there somewhere, playing coach and doing shows, unhappy and we're here trying to figure out what went wrong. I am two times Olympic champion who lost a friend, you are practically The King of figure skating world who lost a lover. And I can't even be mad at him – it felt like he was punishing himself the year he flew back home for good.

Victor takes a deep breath and voices something he's been saying to himself for a few months.

– There's no point anymore. Drop it. We lost the battle for Yuuri Katsuki recognising the best parts of himself, it's up to him now. I know you hate advices from people you don't share a lot of views with, but take this one from me – don't get caught up in other people's drama to the point it eats you alive. I almost didn't survive – literally – my first ever long-term relationship and loosing half of my friends after the ugly breakup. People who are struggling deserve compassion, but not to the point where you let them walk all over you. Glad you told him to fuck off, by the way.

– He didn't even apologize to you. That was it for me.

Victor lowers to the floor next to Yura, shoulder to shoulder. The rain finally stops, glimpses of sunlight piercing the clouds.

– For what it's worth, I'm glad you're my friend.

– I love you too.

Yura smiles faintly and hugs his two year old siberian princess, kissing the fluffy ear.

Nobody gives you a medal for caring. If they did, they'd have a separate room each, filled to the ceiling.

– Otabek and Mila are going to Tuscany in June, asked if we'd like to join.

Italy, the eternal inspiration. Not the opportunity you want to pass. That's it then, they need new perspectives and some well deserved rest.

– Hope you're going because I'm booking us the place in Florence!

– And I may have called David and pulled a favour to lend us his family villa for three days – olive trees all around, some peace and calm.

Right, Yura's friends with like half of younger Italian top skaters by chance and humour.

– Sounds like we're in for some good fun!

– Yeah let's hope to get back in shape somewhat before starting to work on choreography for your ice play in the end of August if we want to present it in December. Ouch!

Victor pinches his nose with a smile.

– No work talk during rest period, mister best co-choreographer. Where did you put the cinnamon rolls?

– On the counter, I'll brew the tea.

Nobody says it, but Victor knows they both hope Yuuri wins the battle someday. Doesn't matter if they're there to witness it.

He does eventually – his energy lights up in the photos, stories and interviews after the biggest show yet. Something finally clicked. Yura is relieved and he feels a slight hint of sadness – sometimes even the oceans of love we're ready to give aren't enough to help someone if the timing is off.

Love and life are both a mystery, yet they bring sense and color into existence.

– I think I have an idea for the water spirit costume.

Yura says with a frown and Victor pulls out a piece of paper.

Yuuri doesn't write or call, but they're finally content. You can be happy for someone in the distance, nothing wrong with that – stories align then grow apart.

– What are you thinking about?

– Leaving behind something precious.

– Makes room for something sweeter.

That's a good perspective to have, especially after so much hardship. Recalling last five years he truly doesn't understand how Yura is in his right mind.

– Now I get how you haven't gone crazy yet with all the shit you've been through.

– Hope is foolish, – Yura shrugs, – but I don't care. Following your logic, it's better to believe in possibility of a better life for yourself than the opposite. I'm choosing to at least try before despairing.

Maybe that's what it was all along for Yuuri – trying without internally admitting defeat.

Judging by his new programme presented during stars on ice, new strength is finally found. The interview puts a smile on both their faces.

"There came a point where I got tired of always belittling myself and thought – what's the worst that's going to happen if I finally give myself a chance? A real one this time, to be what I am".

What you choose to believe can break you or make you. Yuuri's story is a good example of why you need to choose wisely.

[cocoavanille]

For @drarrymicrofic | brief

A brief interaction is capable of unheard things. Changing someone's internal state entirely, for example.

Harry haven't seen Draco since the year after the war – when he came to call in a favour from Narcissa on Kingsley's orders.

Draco Malfoy Black is placing the enchanted jewellery on the other side of the shopwindow. Harry thinks he's dreaming for a second, blinks but reality slaps him in the face when the man shows his side profile for a second.

A fun trip to Paris, Fleur and Hermione said, to relax and escape the "british doom".

– What's wrong?

Nothing. Everything is finally getting right, if his feelings are any indicator.

– I'll catch up with you at the cafe, ok?

Hermione frowns, but doesn't question him further, takes a look at the sign and turns around to chase Fleur and Ron.

Harry takes a few breaths and pushes the stylish black door with silver handle open.

– Good afternoon.

Draco freezes at the sound of his voice for a few seconds, then lifts his head.

The eyes, Harry thinks, belong to a very different person he saw back then. Makes sense, they're thirty now.

– Good afternoon. Are you looking for something specific?

For some reason Harry is sure it took up half of Draco's strength to answer him in that calm tone. He shakes his head with a tired yet genuine, faint smile.

– Just found it. Can we talk? Promise I'm not here on ministry business.

– And I am not a criminal by the french wizarding laws.

With a flick of a wand the sign on the door reads "closed" and two cups levitate themselves on the table.

– Tea or coffee?

– Anything.

– Air then, fine.

Draco smirks and easily dodges a flashy spark of green.

– You're such a bitch.

Harry sighs, sudden relief taking over his body.

– You're an impulsive asshole. Some things never change, I see. You're having black coffee with some pain au chocolat.

Harry totally forgets he's supposed to be at the café until Hermione texts him.

"I'm fine. Sorry, having coffee somewhere else. See you tomorrow".

– Your wife?

Draco asks softly, ready to let him go, but Harry isn't walking away anytime soon.

– Hermione. See you don't keep updates on the British scene? Been divorced for eight years now. You?

– Close friends, mother and cousins are the only people I allow to bother me.

As if this day could get any better.

[cocoavanille]

Isn't meant to be.

Drarry no Voldy omegaverse AU where omega Draco is constantly bombarded with marriage proposals since he was fifteen, but he's still single at 23, happily married to cruses and enchantments reserch. Because his standards are, quite literally:

• Harry James Potter – the most wanted alpha in the wizarding world and his childhood best friend. Also his eternal crush and a man he would marry in a heartbeat, but Harry is playing the lying to himself game and he's not going to sit and wait, he's got plans for this lifetime. And seeing Harry with his girlfriends? Well, he got used to it during highschool.

He's happy to be his friend and partner in dangerous endeavours. If there's nothing more – fine, he has a life of his own.

• Theodore Nott, who's a ride or die friend and an alpha that has zero (more like negative) interest in him because of them being incompatible scent wise.

• Lucius Malfoy, who is a great father in this AU. Did they argue, especially about Draco pursuing a hard, risky job without any need to work? Sure. Did Lucius almost kill the idiot, who thought he could get to their inheritance by putting Draco under the imperious curse while they were at a party? Also yes. Draco was allowed to get All of Abraxas' things, research notes and access to the secret laboratory after Lucius understood there's no way Draco's backing down on a decision to continue his grandfather's projects. He isn't a fan, but will offer support – in a form of letting him be.

• Sirius Black, the scandalous uncle who always told him and Harry to never accept something your soul is against.

So Draco didn't.

He doesn't care, how many times more he will be called difficult, a disgrace of an omega, a tragedy for such a traditional family and all that.

As long as he's true to his heart and can stay by Harry's side, he's content. All is well.

Or so he thinks untill Harry fucking Potter decides to show up at his door in the cold rainy night, with a lost and awkward:

"I think I've been in love with you since the fifth year."

It takes Draco a couple of seconds to bite back a pained laugh.

– What do you expect me to say? You know. You knew then too. Everybody did – our friends, your mom, my dad. You have some nerve saying this to my face, Harry.

– Because I wasn't pitying you?

– Because I told you years ago and all you said was "cool". So, there you go, youngest head auror Potter: cool. Now I would love to wake up to a world where we can be friends and move on with our lives.

– I can't be your friend, Draco. Not like this.

Draco looks him dead in the eyes and asks himself why is he even considering giving that idiot a chance after dying inside each time he kissed a girlfriend in front of him, each time he flirted with the handsome coworker sitting by his side. Or showed up to his birthday party with hickeys on display, getting a murderous side eye from Hermione.

– Well too bad, because I can. And will, if you'd still like it. Now get home, it's late and we both have work tomorrow.

Draco closes the door, puts up the charm lock and goes to take a bath with a strange calmness in his chest.

Turns out his main standard is his own self-respect, diligently taught by mother and Regulus.

Wow, Draco thinks to himself, seeing Harry trying to win him over with letters, gifts and everything but what he's meant to do – apologise and back off.

Maybe it's Not meant to be.

The change in behaviour is almost appalling to him without a particular reason. He feels bad, but can't get over it. Decides to talk it out with mother when guilt of not wanting to accept Harry's feelings gets too heavy.

Mother looks at him with a sincere surprise and asks with brows, but not tone raised:

– Why on earth would you want to be with someone who chose to be a dick about your feelings for years?

– We were young and I was no sunshine either.

– You can argue, sure, but he still did it. And continued to pretend your confession was a joke years after school. So tell me, does it seem unnatural to be repulsed by the attention of someone who's took you for granted for years?

– ... I suppose not.

– Wonderful. By the way, I've asked some friends about your request and they have a place at the French Institute of High Magic, but you'll have to teach from time to time. If it's to your liking–

Draco feels his whole spirit light up. That's the opportunity he was hoping to get for years!

– I'm going! Set me up an interview. I'm getting into their research programme if it takes to fight a bloody vivern.

Draco Malfoy is an example of everything a proper omega shouldn't be – ambitious, stubborn, with a number of strong opinions. Not bound by poverty or fear of dying alone, uncomfortable for the surrounding alphas and hierarchy.

Draco Malfoy was never happier than after he's finally decided to let go of the only alpha he's been ready to change himself for.

Paris greets him with the warmth of grandfather's flat, welcome cookies from dear cousin on the table and a handsome coworker his age who doesn't waste years giving mixed signals – invites him to dinner after two months of getting to know eachother and is patient enough to give them time to build some trust.

Harry's letter finds him on a bright summer's day.

"... It doesn't feel right, I'm coming to see you."

Draco scoffs, throwing the paper in the chimney. Writes back a short, for once completely honest:

No need. It will get easier and pass, just wait it out. Speaking from experience.

Harry's friends will probably call him a bitch and whatnot, depending on what Harry tells them. Draco couldn't care less – Theo and Astoria are visiting next weekend, he's doing his dream research, cousin Amelie is baking her fabulous balckberry lavender cake.

And for once, all is truly well.

There's a difference between loving someone and holding on to an idea of what could be. If only he knew this sooner.

Harry Potter indeed does get over it on a romance level. However he despises France and anything to do with it for the rest of his life for taking his childhood best friend away from him.

Because doing so is easier than to admit defeat. Draco – the omega that he thought will always be by his side, no matter what, after all they've been through, the one he thought of as naturally his – moved on without a shadow of a doubt. And he underestimated that effort, honesty and intentions were, in fact, important to a relationship, as his mother said many times.

Now he wishes he'd listened. Now he knows what his feelings were.

But it's to late and the fire slowly dies out. So much for the "perfect scent compatibility" and "balancing eachother".

Lesson learned, Harry thinks to himself, when the burning feeling is finally replaced with readiness to write a new chapter, no amount of chemistry can make it work if both parties aren't there for it.

It would've been easier to hate, to blame – Draco or himself, but he chooses to crate a new standard:

Respect himself and the person he's in love with next enough to do what's best for both parties.

Their best is living on different sides of the La Manche.

[cocoavanille]

Something sweeter for @drarrymicrofic | welcome

Draco holds Harry's hand and swings his wrist to open the tall door before them, warmth and slight floral scent inviting them in.

– Welcome home.

He's proud of how it all turned out – tidying up and creating a couple of necessary changes to grandfather Abraxas' house was a week-long process. They're in France now, first almond flowers enveloping the branches in the yard, territory quiet and filled with clean, healing energy. Grandfather wasn't an alchemist by degree and a curse expert at heart for nothing. Politics were more of a side gig.

– Can definitely see why you asked for access here to be permitted when Kingsley owed you and Narcissa for that time you've got french aurors off our backs.

Harry looks around in awe, completely speechless when they reach the first floor living room. Light colors, big windows to the garden, lovely deep green and redwood furniture, a small hint of the library on the open shelves. Harry, of course, is immediately drawn to vinyl.

– Impressive collection. Where's the kitchen?

Harry haven't smiled like that for almost a year, something in Draco's heart finally rests at ease,

– Brace yourself for this one.

Harry blinks, then again at the sight of a comfortable huge space with everything you might need for cooking and baking, then walks to the alchemical devices near the left wall, curiously inspects them.

– I suspect these were used for homemade alcoholic drinks and whatnot?

– When they weren't for potions ingredients and alchemical substances that is.

– Cool.

Harry seems unusually energetic here, the enchantments under the house and inside the pool seem to not have lost an ounce of their strength – magical filter, slowly taking away any evil eye, exhaustion or tracing charms. Layed more than forty years ago, still going strong. Draco often wondered if he'll ever be able to equal Abraxas in strength and precision.

Draco pours him some tea and leans into a warm hug when they're back in the living room.

– I like it here, unexpectedly cozy despite the huge space and the previous owner.

– He'd love you, – Draco says quietly, closing his eyes, – you would become his favourite grandson in minutes.

Harry stays still for a couple seconds. Rubs his back gently, presses a soft kiss on his forhead.

– You were close, weren't you? Before he died.

– I guess?... He never spent time with father but always took me to hang out during summer and visited on random just to see me and mother. Sometimes I think he was the only person in this family who saw me as a wizard with some level of intelligence and had some faith in my abilities. Whenever he had time we were always somewhere in nature, he taught me to connect with elemental magic. Or in the library at the manor, he had a cabinet in there – lots of puzzles and dangerous artifacts I was allowed to play with. Best moments of my childhood. If I solved one he helped me play pranks on dad. Never on mom tho, old man adored her.

Harry laughs, sincere and lightheaded. Coming here for his recovery after the latest events was the right choice.

– You said he'd like me, why?

Draco sits on the sofa and points to the tea and cookies with his chin. A loud crunch pierces the air.

– You're bold, unapologetic, creative, smart and ambitious. Everything he liked in others. And you're not annoying as many other "heroes". Grandfather often used the saying "a fool convinced of his own righteousness is more dangerous than an earthquake".

– A sentiment I share after years of auror work.

– He was against father joining Voldemort, actually.

– ... Surprising, not gonna lie. So much for pureblood superiority.

Draco smirks, pouring himself some tea and sinks into the couch.

– Exactly. Riddle wasn't a pureblood. There's also a whole point of "why follow someone if you can use them to reach your own goals". According to mother, their relationship with father completely went downhill during the first war. If father listened to mom and him, maybe we wouldn't end up in so much shit eventually. But the past is gone and I got the best thing ever out of that mess, so.

Draco shrugs, belittling the horrors – a staple in their relationship.

– The best thing?

Harry repeats clueless, looking at him with a frown.

– What good could possibly come out of this–

– You, silly. It's always been you.

Draco levitates the cup away and kisses Harry on the lips, eyes closing. If the only way he could get to this point in life with Harry by his side was to go through hell and back, he'd do it again. But only if Harry could be spared from suffering this time.

Harry's cup sloppily slides on the table, they fall on the sofa. Draco presses kisses to his neck, hands under the thick hoodie on hot skin and Harry shivers with a sweet moan.

– How would your grandfather feel about us having sex in his living room?

– I'll show you photos of his one and only young love sometime later, quite the charmer.

– Oh.

The realisation finally hits Harry who's a little slow today.

– This villa is basically a queer space. Once again – welcome home, sweetheart. We can stay here however long you wish.

After two weeks Harry isn't sure if he wants to return to England. He'll think about it after the cherries and magnolias stop blooming.