#draco insists on calling harry 'harry potter' every single time

[rockingrobin69]

Numbly

“I've been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still na��ve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” but his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing wonder to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. I should inform you that violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it's not my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”   

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got there. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the silly jacket's back when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready tower appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet dusty smell of paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, not unpleasantly, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich from all the way back lunch sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

To the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.

[urwhorecrux]

How would the hp boys handle an argument with their partner?

⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ 𝗛𝗣 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 - 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗔𝗡 𝗔𝗥𝗚𝗨𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗡𝗘𝗥.

ft. harry potter, ron weasley, cedric diggory, & draco malfoy.

pairings. harry potter boys x gn!reader.

warnings. fluff, arguing, slight angst.

a/n. if you have any specific harry potter boy you wanna see in my prefrences, request it and i'll add it. <3

word count (all). 1.2k

masterlist. my preferences. send me a request <3.

— 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

He usually keeps his temper calm with you no matter what, but today was different for him. With everyone being on him about Voldemort returning and the daily prophet, he needed your support more than anything.

He couldn't put down that stupid daily prophet, at breakfast he read every single lie that sat on the page. You continiously warned him about it, even suggesting he takes a break from reading it and enjoy a breakfast with you, ron, and hermione, but he resisted. He carried it and read it everywhere he went, hardly ever putting it down.

You attempted to pry it gently from his hands before bed, insisting he take a break and try again tomorrow. Instead, he continued with it, getting slightly defensive towards you.

You continued attempting to take it from him, before he snapped, slightly raising his voice.

Your eyes slowly became glossy, filling with tears. You've never seen him so- bad-tempered. Even with others, he would still be upset yet would cool off before thinking about anything to say.

You quickly gathered your things, rushing out of his dorm before he could say anything to even attempt to apologize for yelling. As you reached your dorm your eyes were red with tears still dripping from the duct of your eyes. You eventually fell asleep, without harry and without a comforting thought of him.

The next morning at breakfast he approached you, with open arms which you avoided.

"Y/n, love please just let me tal-" he was interrupted by you hurridely running off, leaving for hours on before he saw you after school, in the courtyard.

He approached you again in the courtyard, this time with flowers and a letter.

"Y/n, please just-just stay and listen this time", he sat everything next to you, along with himself.

"I really am sorry for the way I acted, I swear I'll never raise my voice at you again, it's not what you deserve."

You inched over towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder and the other cupping his face.

"Haz, it's alright just- put down that stupid prophet when I say so" you giggled.

"I won't even go near it anymore" He smirked, placing soft kisses across your face.

— 𝑹𝑶𝑵 𝑾𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑳𝑬𝒀

Ron, being stubborn, had argued with you about how he'd constantly been copying your work.

After long quidditch practices he couldn't make the dedication to completely finish all his schoolwork, so he decided to ask you for help one night. Then, that one night turned to a couple days of work, then a full week of work. To the point where he had barely been trying in his classes, relying on you for the work.

Teachers couldn't help but notice, and eventually called you both out on it, getting you both in trouble. That led to Ron continuing to copy your work, no matter what the teachers say.

You tried telling him off for it, insisting that he wouldn't learn that way. But, instead of hearing you out he'd just left, left from your dorm and continued to ignore you for two days.

Two days later, you found him in class, the one he hadn't been going to due to loads of work and worrying about everything except class, and even though he didn't show it, he was still worried about you even though he was the one who stormed out.

After class he found you in your dorm, your roomates cleared out.

"Y/n.. can I come in?" he knocked softly on the door, an innocent look on his eyes.

You nodded, expecting for him to ask for your help again, ignoring the situation where he walked out on you two days ago. Instead he didn't, he spoke softly, "I know i've been slacking off in school, I didn't expect it to be like this though",

"Okay, continue", you stated.

"I wanna make it up to you y/n, I really do. I'll actually try harder and catch up this time, I mean it."

You slightly smiled, not ecxpecting him to actually remember or care to make it up to you, but he did.

— 𝑪𝑬𝑫𝑹𝑰𝑪 𝑫𝑰𝑮𝑮𝑶𝑹𝒀

Every so often you remembered that Cho was Cedric's ex, and that you weren't the first person to date him. It didn't really get to you, until eventually you saw her desperately trying to get his attention more and more.

When you'd been at Cedric's quidditch matches you seemed to notice you weren't the only one running down to go see him and cheer him on, she was too. After games she always lingered around.

"Cedric, that was great!" she smiled at him, practically drooling over him anytime he did anything.

"Yea, um- thanks." he quickly shrugged, his attention turning back to you.

You let it rest that time, not thinking much of it and not caring that he even talked to her, until the next time she offered to take him out, right after another match.

You knew you could trust Cedric but she was no where near trustworthy.

Later on you found the both of them, her unusually close to his face. You waited a few moments behind a wall, hearing small echos of their voices.

"Ced, please lets just- you know, get back toge-" you interrupted coming from behind the corner, gasping softly.

Cedric looks towards you, attempting to speak up and rush after you, but he knew you were already set off after you saw the two of them together.

The next morning you awoke to an unexpected surprise in your dorm, Cedric smiling down at you.

"Ced, what was that yesterday?" you frowned.

"Love I promise, I want nothing to do with her she just came up to me, I'm all yours just don't be upset" He interlocked his hand with yours, innocent eyes glaring at you.

"It'll never happen again?" you questioned, softly pouting at him.

"Never love, I promise."

— 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑶 𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑭𝑶𝒀

With the stress surrounding Draco during his 6th year back, it eventually started to affect you too. You both were most likely always busy, you with the slug club and him with his missions which Voldemort and his father set him on.

He had one coming up that was more than dangerous, a task he'd never done before and couldn't be sure that he would fullfil.

"Dray, you can't do it just tell you father he'd understa-"

You were interrupted by Draco's tone of voice, him lashing out towards you with no regrets it seemed.

You were nearly surprised he'd raise his voice at you, as it nearly never happens but this time it did. Your sight filled with water, you attempted to speak back, but it felt like you just choked. You sit still on his bed, unsure of anything to say.

"I have to go y/n, you don't understand" he scoffed, continuing to pack.

"Dray, please- just please don't do go I really mean it"

He looked to you with glossy eyes, becoming slightly hesitant, he sat next to you, nuzzling his neck into your shoulders.

"Y/n, love, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting it's just-"

"No, I know. Just please don't take this mission, any other one not this one though".

He cupped you cheek gently, nodding his head slightly, holding the mission off.

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

CHAPTER 23

THE NANNY: CHAPTER 23

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: Working and single parenting is not easy. Andy needs to find a nanny for his son Jacob. Annie, an education degree student at Lasell University, comes to their lives just in time for the big changes in Andy’s life.

Warnings: Language, I think that’s it.

A/N: The witch is back.

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

Word count: 1801

GIF not mine, if its yours, please let me know to give you credit :)  

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Annie walked into the house a little past 4 p.m. after a girls’ day out with Sharon. She left the house around noon and let her boys by themselves. The house was in complete silence, the dining table was a complete mess, water colors and paper sheets scattered over it, dirty plates in the sink. She then walked to the living room that looked like a warzone, not better than the dining room. Andy was sleeping with Jake on his chest, paint and stickers all over their faces and clothes and messy hair. Annie just shook her head and smiled, she took Jake in her arms and took him to his room. She went back to the living room and touched Andy’s cheek with the back of her hand.

“Baby,” Andy hummed, “I’m home. Did you have fun?” Andy hummed again and she giggled. Annie leaned in and give him a small kiss “Great job, daddy.” Andy turned to his side and started snoring while Annie left the room to let him rest a bit more before waking him up to clean up their mess.

Saturday, August 20th, Jake’s birthday was finally here. Annie totally convinced Jake to have a Harry Potter team party and asked every guess to dress as one of the characters except the main character because of course Jake had to be dressed as Harry Potter.  It has been two weeks since Andy talked to Lynn and they agreed on letting Andy have the afternoons free to spend more time with Jake. They have seen progress, Jake’s nightmares were ceasing, and when he had them were not about the monster. The dynamic was definitely changing, Annie took care of Jake in the mornings so Andy could spend the whole afternoon with him, she would tag alone if Jake insisted but in the most part it was just the two of them. The bond Jake and Andy were creating was evident, Annie couldn’t be happier to see how Jake was enjoying the company of his dad. They played ball in the back yard, Andy read stories to him before bed, they went out by themselves, and Andy sometimes even share and explain his work to Jake, so he could understand what he did and why his job was important in helping people.

It was around noon when Annie was setting the tables ready in the back yard. His brother and sister in law had already arrived, baby Denisse dressed as dobby was the cutest thing ever with a little sock sewed to her costume.

“Andy?!” Annie called him, from the beginning of the stairs. “Our friends are here. Come on!” no response, she smiled “Be right back.”

Anthony and his wife were dress as some Gryffindor students, while Sharon and Seb of course were dressed as Bellatrix and a death eater. These two have been dating since they met at Alessandro’s, and to be honest they were perfect for each other. Mark and his boyfriend opted to be Neville and Draco.

Annie walked to their room, Andy was hidden in the bathroom and she knocked at the door.

“Come on big guy.”

“I look stupid!”

“I’m sure you don’t, come on, let me see you.”

“No! I’m not coming out!”

“Oh please! It’s Jake’s birthday! He is going to be sad if you don’t come down.”

“Why didn’t you rent a Dumbledore costume?!”Andy opened the door and came out, the beard was absolutely ridiculous, it looked like a dead animal, and she couldn’t help but laughed.

“Ok! I’m not coming down!” But Annie grabbed him by the arm.

“No, I’m sorry, is just that beard is too much! But you don’t look bad. Although the clothes are a bit loose on you.”

“Of course they are! We are talking about a giant!”

“Ok, Hagrid is not a full giant.” Annie looked for the bag were the costume was. “I thought this included a belly.”

“It does, but I don’t like it.” Andy walked in the bathroom and came out holding some kind of rounded pillow.

“Ok, let’s put it on, I wanna see.” Annie put the fake belly between Andy’s pants and his shirt. “Hmmm, looks good to me, sexy chubby man.” She hugged him and winked at him, “Next Christmas you’re gonna be Santa, can’t wait to sit on your lap daddy.”

“I look fucking ridiculous.”

“Tell you what. If you come out like this and use the costume the whole party, I’ll let you put it anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” Andy lifted his eyebrow.

“Yes, baby. Anywhere, and you know I am a woman of my word.”

“Alright! Let’s do this!” Andy walked out of the room and down the stairs. It was impossible for every adult to hold their laugh. “Yeah, ha-ha, very funny.”

“You look ridiculous man.” Anthony said while laughing.

“I hope you don’t look like that when you get older.” Seb commented.

“Shut up both of you, he looks adorable!”

“I don’t like adorable, honey.”

“Ok, how about fucking sexy?”

“My god! Now you shut up, I don’t want to hear my little sister talking like that to some Harry Potter character, is gross.”

“Fine, I’m going to help Jake with his costume, you can go to the back, and beers are on the fridge.”

Five minutes later, Jake and Annie walked out to the back yard, Some of Jake’s friends were already there, including his neighbor Luis. Jake was so excited to see his dad dressed as Hagrid, and Andy, once he saw his son’s reaction, knew every prank Anthony and Seb did today will be worth it. The magician came around 3 p.m. and all the kids were ecstatic when he did the tricks, he even put Jake to help him in one of his acts. Around 6, some of the kids and their moms started to leave, but the rest of their friends remain in the yard, drinking and hanging out.

“Can I take off my costume now, honey?”

“Sure, baby. My promise stands still.” She winked at him and he ran to his room to change into a t-shirt and sweets. He was coming out the bathroom when his phone dinged. A text of an unknown number.

“Hi, Andy. Long time without talking.”

“Who is this?”

“Oh, that’s right! I changed my number. How about if you call me and see who am I, after all it’s been 3 years since you last saw me. It will be nice to catch up.”

Andy’s blood froze. When he read those last words he knew exactly who this person was. He dial the number and she immediately answered.

“Hello, my love.”

“Don’t call me that!” The nickname she used to call him stunk deep. “The fuck you want Laurie?”

“Ouch! So rude!”

“Fuck you! You left three years ago! You left your own son alone! How do you want me to treat you?! He was one! What kind of mother does that?! Never mind, don’t say anything! I already know the answer.”

“Come out, and let’s talk.”

Andy walked to the window and saw her standing right across the street and she waved her hand.

“How do you know where I live?”

“Come down and I’ll tell you.”

“No, get the fuck back to New York. You won’t ruin Jake’s birthday.”

“Such a special day to come back and see my son. I am an excellent birthday present.”

“No, you’re not! And he is no longer your son, he is mine. You send me that letter resigning to your parent’s rights remember?! Leave my family alone Laurie, I’m warning you.”

“Family? Andy you don’t have a family. You wanted to play the big happy family with me when I was fucking miserable! But you were too fucking busy trying to impress your boss to notice! Who else do you got? Your mother is dead and your dad is in jail.” Andy’s breath hitched “What? You thought I didn’t know? I found out about your dad before I left you. Poor little Andy is all alone.”

“I’m not alone, I have friends, I have Jake and I have...”

“Who? The nanny? So plain, certainly not better than me. Thought you had better taste.”

“Don’t you dare to talk about her! She is more of a mother than you ever were to Jake!”

“Yeah, whatever. But tell me, does your precious little nanny know about your dad? Does Jake know he has a grandfather?”

“If he doesn’t know about your existence, trust me he doesn’t know about my so called father.”

“Oh but I could tell him! Families don’t have secrets Andy, and you have been hiding so much shit just for everyone to think you are not fucked up.”

“What do you want?”

“I want my son back, and either we can do this the easy way or the hard way, you choose.” And she hang off the phone. Andy looked back again outside the window the phone still against his ear and saw her living in a white Audi.

“Baby! Why are you taking so long?”

“What?” Andy turned to see Annie.

“Oh, you’re on the phone, I’m sorry.”

“No, I just finish.” He put the phone in the pocket of his sweats.

“Great! Guess what? Sam’s mom told me Jake’s school is looking for a teacher assistant, I have to go there next Monday and give a sample class.”

“That’s amazing honey, I’m sure you’ll do great.” Andy turned to see once more to the window and made sure Laurie was no longer there.

“Wanna come with me? Our friends still down stairs, we are planning to play charades.”

“What?”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah…”

“You sure? You look pale. Who were you talking to?”

“Ammm Lynn, it was Lynn, she was telling me about this case I have to take care of next Monday.”

“Oh! Is it bad? You seem disturbed.”

“It’s fucking messed up.”

“I’m sorry baby,” She went to hug him and give him a kiss, “I’m sure you’ll do great.” Andy still seemed off, “Do you want me to tell everyone to leave? It can be just us, watch a movie, or we can play charades with Jake. And later I can help you relax, remember my offer.”

“I’m not in the mood honey. Not tonight.” He took a deep breath, “Let’s go play” He gave her a tight smile and walked towards the door.

“Andy,” she reached for his arm, “You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

“Yes, I know honey. Just a though case, nothing to worry about, ok?”

She nodded and walked together to meet their friends. The game of charades making Andy forget for a while Laurie’s call, but knowing very well she was not going to leave town that easily.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 32: After Wedding Fluff

"We can't just hide in the closet!" Harry giggled.

Giggled. Salazar Draco loved him. "Shh," he murmured, pressing his husband back further into the coat closet until they found the back wall. "Just one minute," Draco murmured, pressing his lips to the corner of Harry's mouth. "I just need one minute alone with you."

"Draco," Harry sighed, his hands sliding up and down Draco's sides. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Draco murmured, leaning all of his weight against Harry, pressing him back against the wall. "I can't believe we're married," he said.

Harry smiled, Draco could feel the curve of it against his own lips, "Took long enough," he said with a little laugh. "I thought we'd never get here with all of the things your mother insisted on."

"And all of the things Molly insisted on," Draco agreed. "But we're here now," he added.

"Yes, us and all 200 of our guests," Harry replied.

Draco groaned, "Don't remind me. I want them all to go away."

Harry wrapped his arms tighter around him.

(Read more below the cut)

"Maybe we could just apparate out of here, go straight to our-"

A sharp rap at the door interrupted Draco's thoughts of escaping straight to their honeymoon. "Draco," his mother called, "Stop trying to tempt Harry to leave for your honeymoon and get out here."

Harry burst into giggles once more and if Draco wasn't so in love with him, he'd hex him.

"It's only a few hours," she added through the door. "Do not make me come in there to get you."

Draco groaned, "Two minutes," he called.

"Fine," his mother conceded, "Then I'm sending Molly after you."

Harry groaned at that, "We have to be out of here in two minutes. She won't even hesitate to come in."

Draco kissed him, "Fine. Let's go out so we can get this over with."

"It's our wedding reception," Harry protested with a laugh.

"It's tedious," Draco pouted until Harry's lips found his once more, kissing away the pout until Draco was smiling against his lips.

"Come on, husband mine," Harry said, "Time to go have some dinner."

"Say it again," Draco murmured, tugging Harry's hand until he turned once more.

"Husband," Harry murmured, leaning in and kissing him, "My dear, sweet husband. Godric, I love you."

"Boys!" came the shout outside of the door, Molly Weasley rapping her knuckles against the wood.

"Yes," Harry called, tugging Draco behind him, "We know, we're coming."

------------

The night had been wonderful. Being surrounded by family and friends who wanted to celebrate you and wish you every happiness that life had to offer felt really good.

"I'm exhausted," Harry groaned as they stumbled through the floo and into the hotel room they'd be spending the night in.

"Me, too," Draco agreed.

"And I'm hungry," Harry added as he plopped down on the bed and started removing his shoes. "I don't think I got to eat more than two bites of food in a row without being interrupted to go and see someone."

Draco nodded, "And the waiter kept taking our plates." He pulled open the drawer in the bedside table, "Luckily, this hotel has 24 hour room service. So what'll it be?" he asked, holding out the menu to Harry.

They picked some food and sent their requests down to the kitchen.

"We have half an hour, what should we do with ourselves?" Draco asked, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

"Come here," Harry requested as he scooched back onto the bed and held out his arms.

He went more than willingly, crawling onto the mattress and letting Harry kiss his temple as he pulled him into his arms.

"This was," Harry sighed, "the best day."

Draco laughed and pressed a kiss to Harry's neck, "It was pretty nice, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Harry said wistfully. "Happy wedding day, Mr. Potter-Malfoy."

"Happy wedding day," he murmured back, his smile so big that his cheeks literally ached.

"I never thought I would be here," Harry whispered.

"Married to one another?" Draco said. "I should hope not," he teased, "Mortal enemies don't often end up falling in love."

Harry huffed a laugh, "I just meant married in general. Or this happy," he added. "It's like a fairy tale," he said, "I couldn't have imagined getting to be this happy."

"If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you, my love," Draco replied, brushing his hand over Harry's heart.

"You, too," he murmured back.

Draco laughed, shaking his head, "I know plenty of people who would disagree with you."

"But those people don't really know you," Harry said, rolling a bit and sliding down so they were face to face. "I want you to be radiantly, incandescently happy for the rest of your life. I want you to go to bed with the muscles aching in your cheeks from smiling so hard everyday," he said. He stroked his thumb over the corner of Draco's eyes, "I want you to get happy wrinkles when you're old."

"And I," Draco murmured, leaning closer to press his nose against Harry's, "Want you to fall asleep every day knowing that you are so loved. I want to know that you never doubted for a single moment for the rest of your life that you are precious and treasured." He pecked Harry's lips, "I want you to know that you are enough, just as you are. And I am head over heels crazy about you."

"That's a lovely goal," Harry whispered.

Draco nodded, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Harry smiled, "Right back at you," he replied. "Thank you for marrying me."

"Yes, you're quite stuck with me now."

"I wouldn't want my life to turn out any other way," Harry said.

They laid together quietly for a long moment before Harry broke the silence, "Draco?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm really tired."

Draco nodded, his eyes had already drifted shut, "Me too."

"After dinner," Harry started before breaking off to yawn, "I think I'm going to need to go straight to sleep."

"Good," Draco replied, "Wake me up in the morning with some sleepy morning sex, then."

"Deal," Harry whispered.

"Deal," he affirmed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replied.

And Draco believed him, in spite of all of the reasons he should feel differently. Maybe that's what allowing yourself to be loved was, allowing yourself to be seen with all of your faults and flaws, and accepting that you'd been chosen anyway.

He made one more vow, silent this time, to love Harry through everything. To see him, know him, and love him especially when it was hard, knowing that Harry would always do the same for him.

--------------

Day 31: Veritaserum | Day 33: Chocolate

[harrydracobang]

Harry/Draco Big Bang Fic & Art: Every Hour Has Led to This (Explicit)

Title: Every Hour Has Led to This Author: @sassy-cissa Artist(s): @celilasart Pairing(s): Draco/Astoria, Harry/Draco, background Hermione/Ron, Harry/OMC, & Pansy Parkinson/OMC,  Other Key Characters: Oliver Wood, Ginny Weasley, Original Characters, Pansy Parkinson, Narcissa Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~105,000 Era: Post-War Content/Warnings: m/f sex (not detailed), use of potions for sex, angst with a happy ending, pining Harry Potter, pining Draco Malfoy, removal/loss of magic, arranged marriage, Muggle accountant Draco Malfoy, Quidditch player Harry Potter, serious injury, romance, wanking, blow jobs, slow burn Summary: Banned from the wizarding world and sentenced to live as a Muggle for ten years, Draco Malfoy finds his world turned upside down. Navigating the Muggle world becomes easier thanks to help from some unexpected strangers who become family. But when his mother insists Draco fulfil an agreement set when he was a child, he finds himself married and a father. Then a divorced single father. 

After the war Harry Potter found himself without purpose, until an unexpected offer changed his life. Playboy, Quidditch star, war hero – Harry seems to have it all, until a Quidditch accident ends his career. Lost and without purpose, Harry's life is lonely until a surprising event brings him to Draco's door…literally. 

Running parallel lives for nearly 10 years, when they reconnect both Draco and Harry find the passion for life that had been missing. A story of love and loss and how the best things in life happen in their own time.   

Author’s Notes: To begin with, I have to thank @meandminniemcg. Quite a while ago she dropped a prompt in a discord channel called "free to write". It caught my eye and I never could forget it. She is the true reason this story exists. Thank you, Minnie – I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your brilliant prompt.  

There are not enough thank-you's in the world for my team. Oldenuf2nb this story would be nothing with you. There are no words that can express my undying love to you and for you. Thanks for being the peanut butter to my jelly and for always making my fic sound so much better than it would have without you.  

timothysboxers – thank you for your hand holding, prodding, wisdom and the ability to pull me back from the ledge – more times than I care to admit. This story spans ten years and two very different lives and keeping it all straight was a bitch. Tim you are absolutely the timeline keeper extraordinaire – and creator of the most impressive Mindmap ever – you're amazing. Your keen eye to details, perfect suggestions and additions, and your tireless beta work made this story so much better.  

And to @maesterchill who did a brilliant Brit-pick on this beast and whose recommendations helped portions of this much clearer. You're a star.  

Finally to my artist @celilasart (llap115 on AO3) – thank you for your stunning art that brings my story to life and for your much needed alpha help in the beginning when this was just a thought in my head. I was truly blessed to have you create the art for this story.  

Also thank you to the mods for all their hard work in putting this together.

Artist’s Notes: First of all, a gigantic thank you to the brilliant sassy_cissa for inviting me on this journey. I cannot believe how much Betsy has written in the last 6 months! It's just incredible! Her writing is so vivid that I had a hard time choosing which scenes to illustrate, and as you will see, I could not stop at only two illustrations. I hope you'll fall as much in love with her depiction of Harry and Draco and her OCs as I did! Enjoy! 

Next I need to thank the fellow BB artists and the sprinter crew on the Drarry discord for their feedback and encouragements, whether they knew what I was working on or not. You rock!! 

And of course, a huge thank you to the mods for organizing this wonderful fest. I can't wait to see and read all the other creations!!

READ AND VIEW ON AO3

[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Hogwarts No.1 Ship

Fandom: Harry Potter  Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader Word count: 3.4k Summary: You - Rubeus Hagrid’s niece and a surprising slytherin - have a crush on the Slytherin prince himself, but you are sugar and he is spice and there is no world where the two of you would fit together...right? Warning: Swearwordsm concussion, broken bones, but mostly fluffffffffff Requested by the amazing and patient (I’m really sorry it took so long) @onlycherryblossom​: Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you could right a Draco Malfoy x Reader. you know, the one we talked about. It'd be so awesome! i hope you have a good day/night! (I won’t put our chat in here so that I don’t spoiler anything)

Hogwarts had rarely ever known two students who were as opposite to each other as Draco Malfoy and Y/N Hagrid. Draco - who was the embodiment of how people imagined the stereotype of Slytherin to be - was (most of the time) a prideful, cold, unempathetic prick, while you were a selfless, positive thinking, kind and gentle soul that could‘ve been a descendant of Helga Huffelpuff herself. The two of you did have one thing in common though. Your house. The hat had made you both into Slytherins which was on Draco’s side not surprising at all, but quite a shock for everyone who had talked to you for even a minute. Probably the biggest shock was courtesy of Rubeus Hagris - Half-Giant and your adopted uncle (on his father’s side) - who insisted that the hat must have made a mistake, but was quickly shot down by Dumbledoor who assured that the hat didn‘t make any mistakes. After some initial tumbling though, Hagrid realized that the house didn‘t make the person and that it didn‘t matter in what house you were sorted into, you’d always be his little pumpkin. And he was quite right. Even after you had been a Slytherin for just about five years, you had only grown more kind and loving - having bonded with many people in the other houses and years, but not quite as many in your own house. You’d call Blaze and Millicent maybe something close to friends and Pansy tolerated you which is why you gave her the title of ‘good acquaintances‘, but other than that you didn‘t really have a lot of contact with them in your free time. The most complicated relationship you held though was the one to the aforementioned Draco Malfoy. In a weird twist of fate the two of you somehow became the main ship in Hogwarts (with Harry and Ginny or Harry and Hermione as close second) even though you couldn‘t remember more than two or three times that you had talked to the boy outside of a classroom or study environment. Sure, he had never bullied or teased you which already differentiated you from most of the students, but you simply explained it by the fact that you were a good student - especially in potions class - and behaved well enough to gain a number of house points which made you into a good asset to Slytherin and as such made you a less logical target. Now all in itself that would‘ve been more than fine with you, but for some stupid reason your heart decided to betray you against it‘s better judgement and fall for him. Somehow, even after years of seeing him kick others down and behave like a complete douchebag you couldn‘t help but blush slightly at the mention of his name and feel your heart flutter when you walked by him in the hall or in the common room. The worst part was in potions class where he sat right beside you after Snape deemed your former partner as way too unqualified for one of his best students and exchanged him for Draco. Working with him in and of itself was actually rather nice. He was a good student and did his work thoroughly and mindfully, but you found it hard to concentrate when his hand brushed yours as you read a passage in the book or when he poured ingredients in the coultron that you were stirring. You really tried to ignore your feelings and ban every thought of him, but it seemed like you weren‘t doing the best job at it since your uncle kept asking about what it was that was distracting you all the time. On a rainy October day fairly at the beginning of your fifth year you decided you had enough. You were sitting in your Uncles hut with a plate of more or less edible cookies in front of you and a cup of something that was surely supposed to be tea when you finally gathered the courage to say what you had been meaning to say for weeks now. “Uncle Rubeus, can I ask you something?” Hagrid turned to you with his usual smile as he patted fang who was drooling all over his lap where he had laid his head. “Course ya can pumpkin. What’s it about?” “Uhm...well… you know there is this boy that I-“ “Ohhh Ah see,” Hagrid quickly interrupted you before you could even ask the question, “Ya know, usually I’d be more than happy to help ya with every question you have but ah really don’t thin’ I’m the right person for this, I’m sorry.” A little bit disappointed but not really surprised you just sighed and shook your head, telling him that it was okay, before bidding your goodbyes and making your way back to the castle quietly mulling over what exactly your plan b should be now that plan a had failed and you still had no idea what to do with or how to get rid of your stupid crush on Draco.

“You know what I would do if I were you?“ Ginny asked and pointed the end of her quill at you. The both of you were sitting in a corner of the library where you had planned to help her study for her upcoming potions exam, only for her to basically interrogate you until you admitted that you had an unlucky crush, even though she luckily hadn‘t pushed you to tell her who the guy you had a crush on was. “I‘d probably just tell them, I mean what do you have to lose. Either he‘ll say yes and you‘re happy or he says no and you just avoid him like he doesn‘t even exist - which would honestly be the appropriate reaction if he refuses a snack like you. See, no real downside to it.“ “Oh really? Hmmm, I wonder why you haven‘t told Harry how you feel yet then,“ you teased her and tapped your chin. Ginny‘s face immediately started to rival the colour of her hair and the way she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted reminded you of an overgrown toddler - but in a cute way. “I-I don‘t like Harry, okay? I mean I did when I was like ten because he was famous and I was a child,“ she tried to make sure you really knew how silly she wanted you to believe she thought it was by drawing out the word child for a good few seconds before rolling her eyes and looking to the side, “And anyway, it‘s not like he‘d date his best friend’s sister…“ “Oh Gin,“ you immediately felt bad and grabbed one of her hands with yours, “Have you looked at yourself? You‘re amazing and if Harry doesn‘t see that through his stupid invisible cloak and these glasses than he doesn‘t even deserve you.“ “Even though I admit that yes, I am amazing, this isn‘t the topic that we should be conversing about right now, remember? I think there‘s a certain blond Slytherin that you should be worried about more right now.“ Immediately blood shot right to your cheeks and you quickly looked around to make sure no one could‘ve heard her before leaning forward and hissing: “What? No? I don‘t like Draco? Why would you even think that? I never said that he is the one I have a crush on.“ Ginny just raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, leaning back in her chair and picking the quill back up to play around with while she talked. “Listen honey, I‘m not judging you or anything. Don‘t get me wrong, I still and probably will always think Draco is a major asshole and doesn‘t even deserve to breath the same air as you-“ “He isn‘t that bad…“ “Yes he is, but anyways, no matter what I think of him I also know that you are a clever girl that knows how to protect herself and who knows, maybe you‘d even have a good influence on him.“ Images of you and Draco together with your friend group laughing and having fun crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat fasten involuntarily. “That‘s all great and good, but like I said, I don‘t have a crush on Draco,“ you gave the hope of getting out of this situation with the lie you‘ve been telling yourself for months still intact one last try, but Ginny didn‘t give it the time of day. “Oh please, I see the way you look at him in the dining hall and how your eyes are always on him when he‘s playing quidditch and just now you defended him even though the two of you aren‘t even friends. My love-radar is pinging like crazy around the two of you which is why I, Ginny Wealey also known as the love witch-“ “No one calls you that,“ you interrupted her only to be shushed by an evil glare. “I, Ginny Weasley, will help you in fulfilling your desire and getting together with Draco and I already have the perfect plan.“ “No no no no, please don‘t! Don‘t do this! Ginny no!“ you tried to make your point clear but she was already cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to leave. “Don‘t worry oh sweet Y/N, the next time we‘ll talk everything will be set in motion,“ she winked before dashing off leaving you standing in her figurative dust with your mouth agape for a few seconds before you let your head sink onto the table. This would definitely take an interesting turn…

After that you definitely started to actively avoid Draco which was - surprisingly enough - not as easy as you thought. Somehow he was almost always at least in your near vicinity. Besides the obvious factors of class (where you tried to focus on working and on praying whatever Ginny had planned wouldn‘t happen) and when you were eating in the great hall (where you had resorted to sitting at the very end of the table as far away from him as possible) he seemed to also be there in your free time. You were relaxing in the common room? He was there reading a book. You were outside with Harry and co.? Guess who’s coming their way to insult them (while not saying a single bad thing about you). By now there were just about three places where you were sure that he wouldn’t be able to pop up at any given moment. Your room, the bathroom and the potions classroom on Wednesday and Friday afternoon when class has already ended. After Snape had realized that he had some real potions-potential sitting in front of him he offered you extra credit as some sort of teaching assistant which basically meant that you helped him prepare lessons, helped him grade the first to third years tests and that you cleaned up and organized the potions classroom twice a week. Now usually, knowing that you were more than capable of handling the potions and ingredients standing around on your own after having seen you do it for a few months, you‘d be alone while you cleaned up except for the occasional visit of your professor to tell you which ingredients you should put on the students desks for the next class, but for some reason the next Friday - three days after Ginny had made her promise to you - the door already stood open and you could hear Professor Snape talking to someone. “I really expected better of you, your action is the reasons Slytherin has lost 50 housepoints and I hope you know that it is on you to gain them back, no matter your status,“ Snape‘s voice carried to where you stood and you wondered who the student was if Snape went so easy on them with his lecture. Usually you‘d be afraid for your life after losing even ten house points so getting such a calm reaction for 50 must‘ve really meant something. Your questions about the identity of the student were answered when you entered the dungeon room and immediately felt yourself freeze. Of course not even you (time dependent) sanctuary was safe anymore. Of course Draco just had to stand there and look at you without any identifiable emotion in his gaze. “Ah, Miss Hagrid, right on time as always,“ Snape nodded after he also noticed you and you felt slightly more at ease knowing that with him there nothing could really happen. “Should I come back later?” you asked politely, not sure if you had interrupted something. “No, you may stay. Mister Malfoy over here has got himself caught trying to sabotage McGonagall class, a childish act which I would’ve expected of the Weasleys but really not from you. As a punishment he will be the one to clean the potions classroom bi-weekly from now on until he has regained the house points lost. You’ll supervise him.” “I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I understand.” “Malfoy will do all the cleaning but since he has no experience with it I can’t just leave him alone so, since you’d be here anyway, you can watch him and make sure that everything goes orderly.“ It wasn‘t really a question as much as a command, something that you were used to from Snape, so you just nodded and bid him goodbye as he went to his office, leaving you and Draco behind. By now you had seen through what was happening. This was Ginny‘s plan. Somehow she must‘ve managed to blame Malfoy for the prank on McGonagall - something rather extreme given the taken house points- hoping (or somehow knowing) that his punishment would force you to spend at least an hour with him alone in a dimmed room twice a week. Inwardly you cursed your friend, while outwardly you tried everything to avoid directly looking at Draco as you explained his tasks to him before you sat down at your usual place and pulled out a book really hoping you could get him to not talk to you that way. Either your plan was working great or Draco just really didn‘t care for you, because an hour later you still hadn‘t exchanged any words, instead he dutifully, but slightly pouting, had done his job while you shot him the occasional glance to make sure he was doing it correctly. “I think that was all, you should be good to go now,“ you told him with a small smile, relieved that you were finally free to leave the room and with that the tension that had built up inside you as a mix of nervousness and fear. Draco had opened his mouth to respond when a third year came rushing inside with at least twelve books in her arms that almost towered over her which she quickly placed on a table, slightly out of breath. “Professor Snape sent me. He said these have to be sorted and put away.” You could probably feel Draco’s sigh before he had made it and - not really fond of spending more time so frustratingly close to your crush and yet so far - you just nodded and told both of them that you’d take care of it and that they could leave, which both promptly did. You took the books and carried them to the back of the room where a sole, old bookshelf was standing - since the students mostly had their own books - and started putting them away when you heard a sickening crunch before suddenly the shelf including books came crashing down at you and before you could even think to pull out your wand, the world turned black.

“I’m so so so sorry, you were right I shouldn’t have interfered, if I’d just listened to you you wouldn‘t be lying here now,“ Ginny whined from beside your bed where she had been sitting for the past twenty minutes apologizing over and over again and blaming herself for the broken arm, leg and the concussion that had you unable to leave the infirmary for the next three days to a week. “Ginny, how often do I gotta tell you, it isn’t your fault! I would’ve sorted those books in anyways - no matter if you had pulled that prank or not - and it would’ve fallen anyways,” you tried to reassure her and gave her a soft smile. “But-“ “No but, okay? We can’t change the past anyways, and even if we could I wouldn’t because thanks to you, I don’t have to take that stupid DADA test.” Your attempt to lighten the mood seemed to work, because soon you and Ginny were back to your usual conversation-style and it relieved you immensely. It made you feel okay again. She was just telling you of a stung Harry had pulled in the Gryffindor Common room when she suddenly paused mid sentence and looked up. You followed her eyes to where they were placed firmly on a certain Platinum blond boy that looked simultaneously like he’d rather be everywhere else and like he was glad to be there, it was a sight to see. “I think I’ll leave for now, I’ll come back later with tons of sweets that Luna and I are going to steal from Harry’s personal stash,” Ginny said goodbye and gave you a wink as she walked away making you torn between wanting to roll your eyes and feeling yourself blush. Unsure of what to do next you motioned to the chair that Ginny had just occupied and Draco seemed to get the hint because he quickly sat down. “Hey-“ “Hi-“ “Sorry, you first.” “No it’s fine, you’re injured, you go first.” “Well, uhm-“ you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, “-I wanted to thank you, for bringing me here I mean, Madame Pomfrey told me you carried me all the way.” You looked away hoping that he wouldn’t see how nervous you were. “You don’t need to thank me, I couldn’t just let you lay there buried under books, your not Granger after all,” he said, seemingly trying to joke but immediately noticed that it was probably not the best thing to say given that you and Hermione were good friends. “Listen, what I came here for,” now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but you were always with Potter or avoiding me or whatever, but after I saw you lying there… I guess I was just worried for you, I really don’t want you to get hurt.” Now that definitely caught your attention. For a second you played with the thought that this could possibly not be Malfoy but just someone else playing him with the help of polyjuice potion because he was definitely not acting like himself, but something in his word convinced you otherwise. “Thanks, I think, but would you mind me asking why? I mean...we’re not really the closest of friends,” you asked him, looking directly into his face to search signs of a possible answer. “Fuck it, I like you, okay? Happy?” You were completely stunned. Stunned, speechless, shocked. In all the time that you had been crushing on him you had never even really considered even the slightest possibility that he could reciprocate your feelings but now here he was telling you straight up. “You-You like me? Like like-like me?” You asked, just really wanting to be sure. There was a hint of nervousness and worry in his eyes, but he hid it behind a wall of annoyance. “You heard me, didn’t you? So, just get it over with, do you like me too or do you not, because if you don’t then I don’t want to waste my time any longer.” This definitely sounded more like the Draco you were used to and you had to giggle a little bit. “Yes, yes I like you too,” you confessed and like it was the most natural thing in the world you moved the uninjured hand over to where he laid on your bed and took it in yours. For the moment, you were caught in the shimmer of happiness and glee at having your crush there with you, definitely something more than your crush, and it would probably take a while until you‘d realize that there were some interesting things to follow, like telling your uncle about this for example...

[apr1cots]

bookshop babies

MY VERY LATE FIC for the most lovely @orange-peony

idek what happened here but i miss going to bookshops and i miss my boys.

ty to my loves @moonstruckwytch @phoebedelia and @starlitsilvereyes for helping me always and listening to me whine you complete me

ok what gives here we go....

it was a tuesday when harry realized he was in love. he was sitting in a coffee shop he’d never been to before. he could only assume that the wallpaper had been cheery once, but it peeled a bit at the edges, and a tear poorly hidden behind a photograph of john lennon revealed the greying drywall beneath. he was six chapters into some fantasy novel draco had given him the day before when a bookmark fell out from page 217. with a sigh edging too close to overdramatic, he set down the sipping caramel that the barista had chosen for him when he’d asked for something extra sweet, and reached for the floor without looking. consequently, he bumped his temple directly against the corner of the table and swore out loud. 

one side of the neon green bookmark advertised an upcoming book exchange in the east village. the back had a note written in draco’s signature scrawl underlined three times. 

potter, if you spill even a drop of coffee or whatever concoction you force one of those damned baristas to create on a single page of this book i will make absolutely certain that you never read another word again!

harry laughed and then blushed and realized he was done for. 

he took his time walking to the bookshop, relishing in the anonymity of muggle london and staring into the windows of cafes he had yet to visit. the bell above the weathered blue door jingled when harry stepped inside and draco looked up from where he was reading at the counter. he’d just cut his hair, (merlin, harry, muggles have to do this so often i’m in the shop every two weeks, i never knew!) and the sides were shaved close to his head, the top all long and soft and begging harry to run a hand through it. 

their eyes met. draco fought a smile but harry laughed before either of them could say anything. 

“you like this one then?”

“yeah, it’s wicked.”

he didn’t say anything else, instead settling into an armchair in his favorite corner, valiantly trying not to look up from his book to where he knew draco was sitting. a few customers came in and harry used draco’s distraction to watch unnoticed until draco caught his eye as the pretty girl in the sweater ducked her head to dig through her bag.

harry hoped draco couldn't see his blush from across the room and stared intently at the same paragraph for at least three minutes. 

later, when the afternoon sun was just moments away from casting blinding, golden light in through the window near the door, draco asked harry to fetch him a spare copy of the latest gaiman novel from a high shelf. harry summoned it wandlessly without looking. 

“potter! what’s wrong with you?” draco hissed, eyes ablaze with a malice harry hated inciting. 

“draco, relax. we are the only people in here. no one is hiding ‘round the cookbooks, i checked,” harry smirked cheekily, but it didn’t have the desired effect. 

“you are NOT to do magic here, i mean it. i… i really don’t want that to be part of my life here.”

he read between the lines of draco’s pleas and heard the desperation. draco wanted his place here, in this shop, on this street, in muggle london, to be apart. he wanted it to mean something even if it wasn’t what he had always imagined. harry longed to reach out and touch the worry pinching draco’s face.

instead, harry handed him the book. 

“would you like to come ‘round for dinner?”

hermione and ron came as the sun set and after they had eaten, they all sat around the fire. harry watched the easy way that hermione sat on the floor in front of ron’s armchair, leaning into his legs while mouthing the words to the book she was reading. she tucked her hair behind her ears repeatedly as it fell onto the pages filled with tiny print and harry noticed that draco had sat all the way at the other end of the sofa. hermione said ron’s name and he passed her his drink without asking, hand hovering near her head to take it back after just a sip. draco watched the fire when harry caught his eye. 

when they all said goodnight, hermione and ron stepped through the floo, and draco left out the front door just giving harry a little wave. harry went to bed alone. 

a week later, draco sat in the park on a soft blue blanket that he had produced from a wicker basket, clinking the wine glasses against the bottle.

harry joined him, settling a bit awkwardly on the ground, hands full with two oily packets of steaming fish and chips and draco rolled his eyes. 

“you live like a normal person, you can eat like one too,” harry quipped, bumping their shoulders together. it was an unusually warm day for the fall and draco had called harry on his mobile, insisting that they take advantage. harry told him no one else had been available to come, but truthfully, he hadn’t really asked. 

draco wore black trousers and a crisp white shirt under a dark grey sweater that looked so soft it might just melt right off. harry wore jeans and a navy sweater that molly had knit him, the paw prints climbing from his right hip to his left shoulder charmed not to trace wandering paths across his torso. 

the breeze played in the grass and the trees groaned with the anticipation of coming storms, but the sun cut through the clouds, warming harry’s face and tickling the white blond tips of draco’s hair. when harry rested his head by draco’s hip, close, but not touching, he noticed the subtlest of dark grey pinstripes on draco’s trousers. he smelled intoxicating and harry wanted to press his nose into draco’s thigh, but he picked up his book instead. 

“i’m not interesting enough for you, is that it?”

“you’ve been staring at the clouds in silence for at least five minutes. i think you’ll survive. i’ve only got a chapter left. then i’m all yours.”

draco looked at him sharply, then away again. 

three paragraphs later, draco’s hand brushed a curl off of his forehead, then began to play with his hair. 

harry froze. he had to read the word “dichotomy” thirteen times before it registered in his brain. then he sped to finish the page he had been stuck on for far too long in an effort to avoid suspicion. draco was still looking ahead, not at harry, but now his perfect, pale, aristocratic wrist was right there and harry knew that that was where draco sprayed his cologne and he still smelled so absolutely divine that harry couldn’t be expected to function platonically, like a normal human being. he floundered for a moment, knowing that draco would ask him questions about the ending, so he couldn’t very well fake finishing, but deciding that it was too strange to just set down his book moments after defending his right to read. 

before he could come to any sort of conclusion, draco looked down to find harry’s eyes on him and smiled so softly that harry had to sit up. draco's hand fell away then and harry kissed him without a word. 

there, on that pretty blue blanket, on that sunny fall day, harry’s heart pounded harder than it had in the forest on the most fateful of days. and when draco pulled away to blink his long eyelashes right against harry’s neck, harry grinned, not caring who was watching. 

the following tuesday harry carefully avoided familiar cracks in the sidewalk, walking to the bookshop. he’d finished yet another book, though he didn’t really need an excuse to see draco anymore. 

draco was busy at the counter. harry fell back against the door as he closed it, watching without hiding. he moved out of the way when draco was finished, walking behind the counter and hopping up to sit in front of draco. 

“hi.”

“hello.” 

they just stared at one another for a moment, the softest of silences buzzing between them. then draco touched harry’s thigh, still marveling just a bit that he was allowed and they kissed. 

“do you have a new recommendation for me?”

“what?”

“i finished my book.” 

“oh. oh, yes i actually- here,” he pulled out a book he’d placed under the counter and blushed. 

“you set this aside?”

draco shrugged, smiled, and ducked his head. “for you, yes.”

a year later on a saturday in september, draco promised never to run out of recommendations and harry promised to read every single one. harry admitted that the first time he’d entered the bookshop had been an accident and draco laughed and told him he’d known. everyone left with a book in hand and when harry and draco got home they added a new book to the table beside their bed- their story.

[inpizzawecrust]

“What do you mean, no?”

It was a Wednesday night and just like every Wednesday night since they left Hogwarts fifteen years ago, the Slytherin trio were out for drinks. They couldn’t remember how or why it started, most likely involving some type of theatrics from Pansy or Draco that most certainly earned an eye roll from Blaise, but they spent each Wednesday with each other without fail.

They talked about work, they talked about relationships, and though neither Pansy or Blaise were in committed relationships like Draco, the blonde almost always became the topic of discussion by the end of the night.

“So when’s the wedding?” Pansy bluntly asked as she finished off her martini.

“You ask this every week—”

“And yet you’re still not married.” Pansy drawled.

Draco shrugged, which really only made the woman groan, thus bringing a smirk to his face.

“We haven’t discussed any specific dates” Draco began like always, expecting his friends to grumble and try to insist they get married in the spring when the flowers have just bloomed, or the early autumn just before the leaves have fallen, only this time, they didn’t.

“Why is that?”

“Awfully rare for you to be joining in, Blaise.” Draco remarked.

“Possibly, but it’s warranted when you’ve been engaged for a decade.”

“It hasn’t been that long—”

“Yes it has,” Pansy nodded with widened eyes. “You and Potter have been together for twelve years—”

“If we’ve been together that long, do call him by his name—”

“Did you finally start to, or am I missing something?” She quipped with the raise of her brow. Draco blinked, somewhat taken aback by the forwardness, though that is Pansy Parkinson. Why he was surprised was more pressing of a question then why she said such a thing. “The point is, you and Harry have been together far too long to have not had a wedding. Luckily—”

“Dear god” Draco groaned while Blaise chuckled on the side of him. No good sentence that came from Pansy ever started with luckily. The only time something good came of it was twelve years prior when she said ‘Luckily, I know someone who’s interested’ in regards to the yearly ball the Ministry threw. He’s been with Harry ever since, but other than that, no good sentence from Pansy Parkinson started with the word luckily.

“I have taken matters into my own hands,” She continued and pulled out a large binder, carefully setting it in the middle of the table. “Your taste is all too flashy, Harry’s is far too boring, so after many trials, I’ve decided that this is the key to the perfect wedding for Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.”

Draco stared at the binder, the many tabs, the many sections—and subsections—stared back at him. It was all too much. Despite being “too flashy” as Pansy said, Draco had always felt quite indifferent when it came to planning his wedding, hence why he proposed and hoped Harry would take it as a sign to plan the wedding. The only problem was that Harry hadn’t planned a single aspect of the wedding in the last ten years.

As Pansy continued rattling things off as she went through the entire binder, Draco went along with the jokes, glared at the appropriate times, gave back remarks, but all he could think about was the conversation he’d be having when he got home. Normally, he didn’t say anything to Harry about whatever comments his friends had made that week about their engagement status, but he couldn’t exactly say nothing when he’d show up with the hefty binder that was so graciously put together by Pansy. He couldn’t exactly ignore it, or burn it—though Draco wasn’t sure which would make Pansy flip out more—so he clearly had to have this awful conversation with Harry. But no matter how Draco felt about having this conversation with his fiancé, he did have to admit that he was curious as to why Harry wouldn’t marry him.

When they finished their drinks and Pansy finished going through the binder in its entirety, the three friends went their separate ways. The moment Draco opened the door to the house, he momentarily regretted bringing up such a topic when he smelled that Harry was baking—momentarily being key because once he blinked, curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Harry, why won’t you marry me?” Draco loudly asked as he shut the front door behind him and walked down the hall.

“What?”

“Why won’t you marry me,” Draco repeated, this time lower as he entered the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway and watched as Harry put the tray of raw cookie dough in the oven. “We’ve been engaged for a decade and I proposed to you, which naturally means that you’d take the lead in planning the wedding, so why haven’t we wed?”

“We both know that you’d take over the planning, love,” Harry chuckled, his back still facing Draco as he removed the finished cookies from the pan to place them on the cooling rack.

“That’s not the point,” Draco flatly said as he blinked a few times, slightly annoyed at the answer he was receiving. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, not that his partner could see—which only added to the annoyance. “Why won’t you marry me?”

“Dunno, never really thought about getting married.”

“Then why did you say yes?” Draco frowned, “If you never thought about getting married then why did you say yes when I proposed ten years ago?”

“Because I thought I’d change,” Harry sighed as he turned around. With Harry leaning against the counter, Draco against the doorframe, and the entire room in between them, everything felt even more divided than Draco anticipated. “I thought at some point I’d want to marry you—”

“You don’t want to marry me?”

“No—”

“What do you mean, no?” Draco snapped.

“Draco, it’s nothing against you specifically—”

“It sorta sounds like it when you say that you don’t want to marry me!” Draco retorted.

“Draco, let me explain—”

“Why should I? You agreed to marry me when you didn’t want to, then proceeded to waste my time for ten years!”

In between the moments of rage, Draco saw Harry. In the twelve years of being together, they had their fair share of arguments, but they never let the argument become bigger than them. The moment he saw Harry, the love of his life, he was reminded of everything they built, everything they fought for—what they were currently fighting for. He was reminded of how it’s not Draco versus Harry, it hasn’t been that way for years, but rather the two of them versus the problem. They’re on the same team. So Draco took a deep breath, watched Harry do the same, and hoped that whatever it was, it wasn’t bigger than them and they love they had for each other.

“Draco, let me explain,” Harry calmly spoke as he crossed the room. Once he reached Draco, he squeezed one of his hands before softly speaking again. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry you, it’s that I don’t want to marry you.”

Draco blinked. How on earth did he manage to fall in love with an idiot? He took a deep breath to control another outburst, which naturally brought a smile to Harry’s face.

“I’ve never quite understood the point of weddings, it just seems like a lot of time planning for a big party and an excuse for stress, which is why I haven’t planned ours.”

“Can’t fault you there,” Draco softly spoke as he looked down into Harry’s eyes. Just staring into the green eyes calmed him in a way unlike anything else in the world. “What about legally getting married? Going to the Ministry and signing the papers, what about that?”

Harry shrugged before speaking, causing Draco’a heart to sink.

“I don’t find it all that necessary to sign documents for the Ministry to know that we love each other and are committed to each other. The love and commitment I have for this relationship won’t change by a piece of paper,” He quietly explained. Draco slightly nodded, it was a fairly understandable explanation, but a part of Draco wanted to get married. He wanted to sign the papers, he wanted people to know that they planned on spending the rest of their lives together, he wanted people to know of all the hard work they previously put and would continue to put into this relationship. Just as Draco opened his mouth to voice his opinion, Harry smiled—twelve years of being with Harry was more than enough to know what that smile meant. “But I love you and if you want a wedding or just want to sign the papers, then I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Harry nodded with a smile as he wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist. “If that’s what you want then I’ll do it.”

“So if I want a big extravagant wedding?”

“I’ll spend months planning the entire thing.”

“Eloping in Paris?”

“Consider the hotel already booked.”

“What if it’s always been my dream to have my parents watch me get married?”

“I’d call you a liar,” Harry grinned, causing Draco to laugh. He tightened his arms around Draco’s waist as the laughs died down. “But we’d be at Azkaban outside of their cells tomorrow.”

Draco smiled and brought a hand through Harry’s messy curls.

“You play a dangerous game, Potter,” He whispered as he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead.

“Only for you, Malfoy.”

~*~

The next morning, Draco pulled their finest suits from their closet and smiled when he told Harry that he had already called them in sick for work. Harry didn’t ask questions as he got dressed or as Draco tied their ties. When they were ready, they flooed hand in hand to the Ministry. Glances were given as they stepped out of the flames, but they had stopped paying mind to them years ago. They spoke to the receptionists, who smiled when they told him they were getting married, and walked hand in hand until they reached the room. It was just like a muggle courthouse and when Kingsley arrived to sign off on the document, it suddenly felt real. They signed the papers and when Kingsley announced them as married, Draco grinned as he kissed Harry, every part of him knowing he wouldn’t have this any other way.

[pretend-writer]

Addicted (Draco Malfoy x reader)

Requested

Summary: Y/N discovers a surprising truth after reading Malfoy's mind.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Title Reference: Addicted x Saving Abel

Word Count: 1.1k words

Warning: mention of sex, swearing

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

I would be lying to myself if I said it was embarrassing to be seen with Malfoy. Sure, he was one of the worst people in Slytherin or the entire school of Hogwarts for that matter but it was something about him that kept me drawn to him.

During the holidays last year, I've decided to stay at Hogwarts instead of going back home. Harry and I were supposed to spend it together but insisted on staying with the Weasleys. I've gotten an invited by Ron also but I decided I'd love some peace and quiet alone in the dormitories.

Weirdly enough, Malfoy was at Hogwarts as well. Knowing how crazy the Malfoy family was, I was quite surprised that he was on school grounds. I'd say he made the right decision, I would hate to spend the holidays with his crazy father.

One night we had dinner together, figured we'd keep each other company since Hogwarts was practically empty. It did become lonely at times, being by myself for days so call me crazy but it was nice talking to someone. Even if that someone was Malfoy.

After dinner, we still continued to talk on the hallways. Honestly, I should of just shut up and went back to the Gryffindor dormitories and headed straight to bed. I don't know, I was chatty that day and it was probably all of the days I didn't talk at all, I had to let it all out.

It never made sense why Malfoy and I were talking for hours. We were never friends, more enemies I would say. I couldn't stand how arrogant he was and he loved the attention I gave him when I'd correct him every class. Hermione would agree with me on this, the best thing about class was looking for all his wrong answers and calling him out.

The loneliness probably got the best of us that night. No, it did get the best of us. Because the next thing we knew, we were throwing each other's clothes across the Slytherin dormitories on his bed.

When I left his bed the next morning, I swore to myself that I would never speak to this man again. Not only did I lie to myself but I continued to sleep with Malfoy. Even after the holidays were over.

I didn't know why I would go out of my way to sneak around my best friends just to sleep with someone like Malfoy. It was as if I was addicted, I would regret the sex afterwards but end up going back for it every single time. Which didn't work in my favor at all, made Malfoy even cockier.

'So same time tomorrow?' Malfoy snickered, picking up his boxers from the side of his bed as he put it on.

'Don't know, I have loads of homework I have to catch up on.' I shook my head, 'Besides we're going to get caught if we keep this up. I don't want point taken away, or even expelled for that matter.'

He rolled his eyes, 'You still have Potter's invisibility cloak right? We'll be fine.'

I don't think Malfoy ever understood responsibility. It was easy for him to say all of that stuff, his precious daddy can always beg Hogwarts to keep him. Not only will it be over for me but my parents would kill me if I got expelled.

'You probably will get to stay here but I'll be kicked out. I can't risk that.' I sighed, not even wanting to think about the possibilities I could've been caught. Rethinking all of the sneaking around I've done, I didn't know why I've continued to do this.

'Okay, no. It's over.' I started putting all my clothes off, zipping up my jeans and jacket. 'We can't do this anymore.'

'Really? Now you want to end things?'

'Why does it matter? It was all sex. You can find someone else. It's just not worth it for me.' I grabbed Harry's cloak as I head to the door.

'But I love you.'

Turning around look at Malfoy, I cocked my head. ‘You love me?’

He quickly shook his head, brows furrowing from all of the confusion. ‘I-I didn’t say that.’

‘Yes, you did. I heard you.’

Malfoy bit his lip and stood there in silence, watching me like a lost puppy. I knew I heard his voice, I heard him loud and clear. What I didn’t understand was the reason why he’d lie to me when we both knew he said those words.

‘Why are you lying to me?’

‘I’m not, I promise you I didn’t say anyth-’

He paused, sighing as he placed his hand over his forehead. Being irritated about how he stopped his sentence, I pushed his shoulder. ‘What?’

‘You’re a Legilimens?’

Raising my brows, I stared at Malfoy as I held in my laughter. It didn’t matter because moments later, a laugh escaped my mouth. I couldn’t help but cackle about this stupidity. ‘You’re going to really use that as an excuse?’

‘It’s not an e-’ Malfoy rolled his eyes, then took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t say it okay? I-I thought it before you walked out the door.’

‘So you do love me?’

‘Yeah, sure.’ Malfoy responded with a straight face. ‘You never told me you were a Legilimens.’

‘I’ve never read minds until now.’ A smirk formed on my face, ‘You never told me you loved me.’

‘I just did.’

‘Technically, you didn’t.’

Malfoy lightly chuckled, ‘Why are you such a smartass?’

‘Why are you such an jackass?’

He grabbed my hand and pulled me in towards him, our bodies touching just like it did couple of minutes ago. He smiled devilishly as his hands worked his way on my sides. ‘I know you love me back.’

I couldn’t help but bury my face into his chest as I felt his breath on my neck. Malfoy left small kisses on them as he waited for my answer. I hated how cocky this man could get but I loved how he held me in his arms. The way Malfoy knew how to sweet talk me to make me feel better when I was down.

Despite us not really hanging out outside the bedrooms or maybe sometimes the bathrooms when we hooked up, we’d had great conversations together. It was more so my pride that wasn’t letting me admit that I’d probably want something more with Draco Malfoy.

‘Just say it back.’ He nagged, lowering his touches down my ass. ‘I can feel you’re intense. Just say it.’

‘Fine, I love you.’ I looked up at him, caressing his cheek as I licked my lips. ‘I love you, Malfoy.’

‘Y/N, call me Draco.’ I laughed lightly. ‘You say it just fine when I’m fucking you.’

‘Then make me say it.’

A huge grin formed on Malfoy’s face, brows raising in surprise as he picked me up. ‘Game on.’

[sitp-recs]

Do you know any werewolf draco fics?

I feel like I read everything 😭💔

Hi anon! I haven’t read many creature fics in general so I am listing all the Werewolf!Draco fics I know. I reckon some of them are not very well known or recced, so I hope you can find some new reads in here :)

Dangerous by Faith Wood (2014, E, 6k)

Being trapped in a dungeon with Malfoy — who's a werewolf, a former Death Eater, and a giant git — is definitely dangerous. Harry has no reason to be excited. None at all.

Heat of the Heart by @carpemermaidtales (2017, E, 6k)

Draco was recently bitten by a werewolf in the line of duty as an Auror. He'd been dealing with it as best he could, but then his first heat came on hot and fast in the middle of filling out reports with his Auror partner, Harry Potter. Luckily for him, Potter has a knack for saving his arse.

Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (2022, E, 8k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

Harry Potter and the Werewolf Consultant by 0idontknow0 (2014, E, 15k)

After Teddy transforms into a werewolf for the first time Harry and Andromeda don’t know what to do. They consult an adult werewolf to help Teddy adjust and that werewolf turns out to be one Draco Malfoy.

Just Beneath the Skin by leontina (2016, E, 16k)

Draco is a new werewolf and has found a supportive mentor in Remus Lupin. Trying to deal with his monthly transformations and keeping it a secret is hard enough, but it's even more so when Harry insists on following Draco around thinking that he's up to something.

Savage by marguerite_26 (2012, E, 18k)

In a post-war world that lives in fear and ignorance of werewolves, Draco Malfoy has taken every step to keep his condition hidden. When the delicate balance of his life shatters in a single moment, it is Harry Potter alone standing in his defence.

Dull Knives and White Hands by calrissian18 (2012, M, 19k)

Voldemort has finally been killed but not before unleashing his final hell on the wizarding world: a highly contagious lycanthropy virus that spreads through skin on skin contact.

The Elusive Mate by 0idontknow0 (2014, E, 25k)

Harry had done it (a) to save lives and (b) because the idea of him being Malfoy’s mate was clearly ridiculous, but now he had to tell Malfoy.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (2020, E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart, orphaned (2021, E, 40k)

Three years ago at the tragic Battle that freed our great Wizarding World from the grip of a megalomaniac Dark Wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, our world lost many Witches and Wizards. Among the dead and missing was Draco Malfoy, the only son of notorious Death Eaters Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, both of whom volunteered their home for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to use as a headquarters.

Embers by @shiftylinguini (2017, E, 41k)

Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion.

Nightcall by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (2015, E, 116k)

A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime.

Edit: thank you @uggghhhwhy for reccing Turning Over a New Leaf, Entering the Next Phase, And Other Rot Like That by Allychik6 (2020, M, 80k)

For Harry, it's all in a day's work, helping Hermione with her werewolf outreach program, handling drunken splinchings or late night break-ins on the nightshift , fixing the faulty floo in his parlor, and putting Teddy to bed on time. So it doesn't leave much time for dating, that's okay because Ginny's out of town most of the time anyway.

[fallingoverharrypotter]

Torn a New One

This is based on the @drarrymicrofic​ prompt for pretend, and got very long. Heres the ao3 link :).

The shirt is supposed to make Harry look like that one Bratz doll meme; you know the one. 

Thanks for reading <3 <3

Harry is a stoic man. That’s what Hermione calls him.

He’s sitting on Ron’s plush carpeted floors in his shiny new flat. Ron himself is passed out on a couch that costs more galleons than a year of Hermione’s tuition, with Hermione herself teetering on the edge of both her couch and hers and Ron’s refusal to bring up that they’re still fucking on the side of their tumultuous breakup. She brings up Harry’s problems to distract herself, and Harry tells her not to bother. Harry also tells her that she and Ron should just own up to their idiocy and sort their crap out sooner rather than later, and then Hermione yells loud enough to wake Ron with: Harry James Potter, you’re a complete and utter hypocrite. Ron does wake up when their voices raise like this, and then cordons Hermione off to the main bedroom leaving Harry to pretend that he’ll floo home, before the three of them end up eating cereal whilst sitting at/on Ron’s granite countertops the next morning.

All three look a right picture. Hermione is staunchly refusing to acknowledge that she’s wearing a t-shirt of Ron’s – old Canon’s merch that she’s absolutely swimming in. Harry, in solidarity, is also wearing one of Ron’s shirts without pants – the newest Wheezes rollout collection, classic stylized lettering (Ron’s got this beautiful flat because every single Witch and Wizard between the ages of 14 and 37 owns Wheezes now). And Ron himself is shirtless and in nothing but underwear.

They’ve seen more of each other than is completely normal over the last 15 years, but they’re still indulgent enough not to bring up any of the shit they refuse to talk about. They need a balancing force, Harry often thinks, someone who is outrightly honest and refuses the stupid little games that the golden trio fall into to avoid talking about their true feelings. That’s what Harry thinks inside his head, but his body ends up groaning and bending forward so his forehead smacks the countertops none too gently. His consciousness sounds more and more like someone he refuses to think about whenever he’s been drinking. Merlin save him.

“Oi,” Ron admonishes without looking up from his bowl. He’s leaning atop the counter on forearms and staring into his cereal, swirling the spoon around the stodgy mess and eating no longer.

Harry grunts first, and then says “gonna sick up, Ronnykins?” and gets glared at by Hermione who is onto her third bowl of cereal at this point. Right. Can’t joke about Lavender either, apparently. That fling definitely didn’t help the dynamic, Harry reminds himself.

“Jus’ don’t wan’ you bruising my bench with your fat head.”

Harry kicks out at Ron with his closest foot and makes contact, gets an immediate groan for his efforts, before Ron’s pulling up from his slouch and getting Harry into a pretty tight headlock. Harry resorts to elbowing Ron in the gut over and over. Ron groans and releases, making a mad dash for the fancy powder room into which he projectiles.

Hermione, for all she looks dazed and noncommittal this early into a hangover, manages to give off an air of created aloofness about the violent noises coming from down the hall. Harry smirks at her, and gets his own kick in response that makes him exclaim “ow, fuck. You two are so bloody violent.”

Before she responds, there’s a tapping at the window. Owl. Hermione stares at Harry to let him know that there’s no way she’s moving from her lounging for the bloody post, so Harry straightens up to open the window for the tawny. Efficient things these post owls are this morning; just drops the paper on the countertop near Harry’s bowl before flying right out the window without even waiting for a treat.

Harry’s shaking his head to brush away the last fuzz of the evening with the assistance of the scent of fresh air. Hermione gasps out loud. That makes Harry turn around quick enough for whiplash, and then he wishes fervently for death by sustained head trauma when the figure on the front of the paper, unfurled and sepia, winks right at him.

“Fuck,” Harry says. His gut churns, and then he’s running down the hall, past the occupied powder room to Ron’s master bath, and vomits up his guts.

 ***

Ron’s back in the kitchen by the time that Harry stumbles back in. Three strong cups of tea are quick-brewing under Hermione’s wand, even though both her and Ron’s attention is maintained by the Prophet’s front page. Because that is Draco Malfoy wearing a Wheezes “I shagged Harry Potter and all I got was this stupid shirt” collectable.

“It’s ironic!” Ron and George had insisted on its’ inception 4 years back. Only 100 had been made, a necessity: scarcity is key. They resell for a lot of money these days. Harry would rather die than see another in person. His face, a terrible photo of him caught by photographers during a pretty brutal night out, is plastered right on the middle along with stylized fireworks that go off every couple of minutes. He’d been convinced into making them, to try and control the narrative or whatever bullshit the Weasley’s had spouted just a couple of days beforehand when Harry had started stomping around the burrow or the floor of the joke shop or Hermione and Ron’s old shoebox apartment in anguish. It worked, he guesses, and he doesn’t see many of them anymore, as they’re kept in the strongest of imperturbable charms and modified protegos by anyone lucky enough to get one. But this one. This one he didn’t know about.

Hermione’s been muttering to herself as she read the accompanying story, when her voice perks up. “Merlin, listen to this: ‘this intrepid reporter asked what I’m certain all our readership will be most curious to uncover now that we are sitting down with the one and only Draco Malfoy. When we had sat down in Mr. Malfoy’s beautifully appointed drawing room, I too was especially shocked at his choice of attire,’” Hermione pauses here to roll her eyes and mutter “oh here we go,” before continuing in a higher and haughtier voice. “‘We all know the poise that Mr. Malfoy holds, one of Wizarding Britain’s most darling Stars, his performance in Wizarding Wireless serials having taken our world by storm the past 6 years. I must myself mention the serialisation of the modern take on the Wizarding classic story of Millicent Mimbletonia’s Marvelous Manor; captured this reporter’s heart, it did.’ What a load of absolute nonsense.”

“Oh, come on, Herm,” Ron says and knocks into her arm to get her to continue the story.

“Fine, but this is all absolute tripe. What was Draco thinking! Okay. Blah blah blah, you can’t believe how long this person goes on about Draco’s drawing room, blah. Okay here. ‘On questioning Mr. Malfoy’s choice to wear the now famously collectible Wheezes’ Harry Potter shirt, the gentleman seems to look slightly pensive.’

“‘‘Monsieur,’ our Star addresses me, ‘when you have been in the business of telling stories for as long as I, you start to have a great fondness for truth. I must now admit to you, and all of your lovely readers, that I bought this shirt on release and whilst under Polyjuice’. Now readers, you must bear with Mr. Malfoy here. Yours truly was very shocked-’ Good God, can this man obfuscate. Okay, then Draco says, ‘‘I’ve kept my ownership of such an item close to my chest, and away from my closest relationships. I have found over the years that true mutual affection, friendship, and love, have foundations built on beds of uncertainty and trust simultaneously, and thus I was afraid to expose myself.’ I but in here and ask what we must all be thinking at this admission: is he such a big fan of our Saviour that he is ashamed? But Mr. Malfoy continues: ‘No, monsieur. In all honesty, I am the man’s biggest critic.’’” Harry ducks his head, his hands shaking as he reaches for the now over-brewed tea.

Hermione looks up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. Ron looks back at her wide eyed too, glancing small looks at Harry every now and again when he finds something particularly salacious, but he says nothing. Harry is hiding his trembling hands and trembling mouth behind a blisteringly hot cup of tea. She receives no objections, and continues. “‘‘I am livid that he’s been out of the public eye for so long regardless of his exceptional ability to bring about change in those around him; Potter has worked the same archival job in the Ministry for 5 years, with no end in sight, I fear. He refuses to allow those outside of his closest friends and family to know him in any sense, and I would argue that this is truly detrimental to his relationship with the Wizarding community. Although I disagree with the man on many things, I will be the first to say here and now that if any person deserves privacy, it is him. But the relationships we build with those we love-’’” and Harry snatches the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Harry,” Ron starts, reaching out a hand and grasping his upper arm. Hermione too has hopped down off the counter and is crowding Harry’s other side. He wants to shake them off, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at the paper in his hands with Draco’s figure. Draco’s white blond head of hair turned beige on paper, his eyes sharp and flirty to readers, his hands restlessly gripping at his shirt. The shirt with Harry’s face.

Harry is a stoic man. Hermione tells him that exactly, Ron tells him that adjacently, and Draco. Draco has said the same thing in so many ways and at so many times that Harry has had it drilled into his head. His eyes are watering now, a little. And he can’t read much more of the article, but he doesn’t really need to. Because Draco will skate around enough of his personal life that it seems as though he’s come clean about something when he’s actually just marketing his next serial; it’s what he does.

This time, though, he’s wearing one of those terrible shirts that almost single-handedly sparked the Wheezes fashion line and bought Ron this apartment, and he’s saying things here that Harry knows are true. Knows are directed right at Harry. Knows because a week ago Harry had walked right out of Draco’s “well-appointed” drawing room, slamming the door and not answering the following owls. Harry hasn’t slept at his own sparse flat for a week. He’s spent time at Ron’s, spent time at Hermione’s, spent time at the Burrow. He’s even spent time in the dark halls of Grimmauld, which he hasn’t wanted to touch for years, no matter how many people around him shared their opinions on it being the perfect. Home. One day.

They’re standing there, the three of them, when a knock sounds on Ron’s front door. Harry freezes, but Ron staggers out into the hallway, still in nothing but underwear.

“Sweet Merlin, Weasley, could you put on some bloody pants? You do know it’s ten o’clock?” Says the visitor, and Harry just lets his back go limp, setting out to truly bruise Ron’s beautiful granite countertops with his forehead once again. He can hear Ron sarcastically mumble something along the lines of ‘yes Malfoy, of course you can come in’. Hermione grips his arm slightly in sympathy, but turns to face the entrance to the kitchen anyway. Like a traitor.

“Hermione, lovely as always. I see the three of you are in similar states of distressed undress this morning. Have you finally succumbed to your polyamorous destiny?”

“Nice to see you too, Draco. Lovely article.”

“Thank you. Do you like the shirt, too? Catches a sweet mint in resale these days.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yes, yes. Now, Harry, please pick yourself up off of the place we civilised people prepare our food.”

Harry groans into the cool surface, but can’t stop himself from responding. It’s a natural reaction to the bullshit that comes out of Draco’s mouth most times. “If you’ve ever made a meal by yourself in your life, I’ll eat the countertop.”

“Harry,” his voice is menacing, and his footsteps are getting closer, “I’m not civilised.” And at that Draco grabs Harry by the shoulder and turns up around and back up against the counter top with not a small amount of force.

Harry’s reply comes out breathless from the impact. “You said ‘we’.”

“It was a universal ‘we’.” Draco says this through gritted teeth. His blond eyebrows are sitting right on top of his grey eyes and they scream murder louder than they’ve ever done before, which is saying something since Draco was once a Death Eater, no matter what the admiring general Wizarding public would like to remember.  

Harry doesn’t have a retort prepared, per se. It would be a more concise comment on how Draco hadn’t taken a single English language course his entire life, and what would he know about the universal ‘we’, but Harry meets Draco’s eyes and he’s a bit lost. A week of blanket non-communication. A bit extreme. Not gone longer than a couple of days without talking for years, have they.

“Cuppa, Draco?” That’s from Ron.

“Yes. Two sugars. Level.”

Ron scoffs, but Draco beats him to it. “Weasley it’s two-level sugars, please, for once, reorient your sense of balance before you spill the entire sugar pot into the cup.”

“Just don’t give him any sugar, Ron. He’s obviously already mental, we don’t want him to go into cardiac arrest.” This from Hermione.

“Uh-”

Draco scoffs before Ron can respond. “Settle down Granger. I’m not going to pretend to like black tea for some sense of superiority like some of us.”

“It’s better for your-”

“You know what’s good for your health?” Draco all but yells and spins around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron, still next to naked, and Hermione drowning in Ron’s clothes. She’s back to sitting on the counter, Ron leaning back next to her. They look like they’ve looked for the past 10 years – drawn to each other, allies, et cetera. Draco huffs. “What’s good for your health is you two sitting down and talking about your absolutely bloody insane coupling. What’s good for your health is not getting blackout drunk every Friday night and ending up sleeping with each other, and then not talking about it, until the next week when you can do it again.”

Ron and Hermione are shifting where they sit, Hermione, looking as though she’s getting herself ready to argue back, and Ron in a more protected position behind his ex-girlfriend. Harry feels a little sorry for them, getting the third degree from Draco when he looks as unhinged as he does now. The Harry on his chest, a mess when the photo was taken, is now looking at them disappointedly like he’s on Draco’s side. Like a magical recreation of a Harry who was in quite an intense meltdown at the time has any right to be “on Draco’s side” about any issues of wellbeing.

Hermione does get the strength to pipe up. “Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy.” But that’s all she can get out. Harry’s pretty sure she’s stumped. Doesn’t have an argument. Draco, Harry knows, has refused to get involved in this situation. Has watched from the side-lines and stewed. Harry’s been all for letting the two of them work their shit out in their own time, but he’s a stoic man, what does he know about all that?

“Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy,” is Draco’s retort, mocking back in a high-pitched squeak that Harry winces at. Hermione was about to hop off the counter, he could see, but Ron’s sudden arm around her waist kept her down. “You two just have to talk about it. So what if Hermione slept with Lavender? You guys weren’t together at the time!”

Hermione splutters, eyes wide, all thoughts of advancing physically on Draco gone. Ron sat eyes wide too, flicking between Draco and Hermione as if waiting for more.

“Wait-” he starts.

Hermione wails “Ron I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know. It was such a bad thing to do-”

“No wait! You’ve been acting weird because of that?” And Ron looks incredulously at Harry. Harry sends him an incredulous look back, equally as surprised that Draco hit the nail on the head.

“What! You knew?” Hermione is still wailing.

Ron turns fully to face her and wails himself: “Of course I knew! How could I not know! Harry told me! Draco told me! Lavender told me! Hell, a month ago you got so drunk you told me.”

Hermione’s eyes are so wide that Harry’s afraid she’s going to start crying, and he grabs Draco’s arm in shock. Draco tenses all of a sudden and then Harry consciously remembers why he’s not doing that and shrinks back again. Ron and Hermione aren’t really focusing on anything but themselves now, so they don’t notice how Draco turns slowly back to face Harry, backed against the kitchen’s island like he has been since Draco arrived.

“And you, Harry Potter.” Draco pauses, and Harry has time to do a quick pass over. Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Draco in the middle of Ron’s stylish London flat are two very different Draco’s. Quiet, pensive, charming and loveable Draco in the papers. Thoughtful. Friendly. A bloody myth.

This Draco. Angry, flustered, dishevelled, loud. This is the same Draco who, when Harry slipped up the other week – the week when everything changed – went red, went silent, went unresponsive in so many ways. Harry, fresh off the first love confession he’d ever given, so incredibly off the cuff that it had shocked him and scared him, had had to storm out of the apartment, slam the doors behind him, and apparate away to his own flat he barely spends any time in.

He’d slipped up. They’d never even suggested anything romantic between the two of them. They’d been close for a long time at this point and. Feelings. His feelings. They were supposed to be unspoken. He’d been nursing the growing beast of his feelings behind his stupid chest, which was okay as long as they were unspoken. Pretending every day that they weren’t eating at him alive.

Eating at him when he woke up in Draco’s spare room on more mornings than he’d liked to count, early enough before work that they could sit for breakfasts in Draco’s kitchen. And then Harry’s co-workers at the Ministry archives asking him questions about Draco’s new shows or his schedule or his favourite foods. Draco and Harry having dinner with Ron and Hermione at hole in the wall restaurants in the muggle world. Birthdays together; dinners at Draco’s or Ron’s nicer flats; bickering over anything and everything they could get their minds on.

“You hate my job.”

Harry’s eyes bulge open. Did he mean to say that? Sweet Merlin. It was definitely him, and now Draco is staring at him in confused consternation, as if he has to come to terms now that Harry’s gone insane.

Harry doubles down, though. Trusts his subconscious decisions. “Yeah, you hate my job!” he repeats.

“Are,” Draco starts, slowly, “you kidding me.”

He could respond, but Harry just shakes his head instead.

Harry’s thought Draco’s been properly angry this whole time. He was wrong. “I hate your job? Who doesn’t hate your job!” Draco’s arms reach out and grab tightly around Harry’s upper arms. Harry’s not above flexing, just a little. He tells himself it’s to test the grip, but honestly, he’s hoping to distract Draco from the rage.

“It’s not that bad!” Harry repeats, and Draco groans loudly.

“Not that bad? Are you trying to give me a stress induced ulcer?”

“What do you know about stress induced ulcers?” comes a faint response from Hermione.

Draco turns his head, hands still tight around Harry’s biceps, and says “don’t you two have make-up sex to attend to?”

Harry responds. “Ron’s sick.”

Draco glares back at Harry for a second, and then turns back to where Ron and Hermione haven’t moved. “Get out, you’re distracting him from the fight.”

“We’re the emotional support,” and “lame fight” come respectively from Hermione and Ron.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Draco yells in their direction, but Harry’s sure that he’s ignoring Ron’s comment. “Emotional support! You two have let this wanker,” a thumb thrown at Harry from over Draco’s shoulder, “probably crash on your couches rather than forcing him to face me. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Draco,” Harry feels he has to say, and draws Draco’s attention from his two best friends who definitely have been letting him crash on their couches and had not once tried to force Harry to face his problems. He loves them a hell of a lot.

“Don’t you try to lessen this, Harry Potter.” Harry’s been on the receiving edge of worse glares from Draco, so this one isn’t that bad. Harry’s actually feeling a lot better now that Draco is in the same room as him. Feels his terrible, traitorous heart almost relax. “I’m sick of you three. You’re the worst bloody enablers for each other.”

Harry scoffs. Sure, they’d never force him to do something he didn’t want to, but it’s not like they agree with his decisions all the time.

Draco hears the scoff of course, and gives up on trying to chase the others out of the kitchen. He turns around towards the entrance, faces away from all of them and talks to himself at top volume. “This is what my life has become. The sole source of constructive criticism for the bloody Golden Trio.”

Ron snorts to cover up a laugh.

“I survive working for a fascist dictator, successfully rebuild my image, forge a new path for myself in the world, but I’m here. An overworked, under-rewarded, glorified therapist!”  

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. The other two look at Harry in commiseration, but Harry is starting to think that Draco has a bit of a point when he realises that Ron’s arm is still around Hermione’s waist who is leaning right into his side.

“Okay.” Draco takes a deep breath and turns around to face Harry. “Since they’re not leaving, you all get to hear this.” He steps closer. “I hate your job. I hate your flat. I hate that you won’t face up to hard things, and I refuse to be okay with any of that.”

Harry swallows hard.

“People are letting you get away with anything at the moment, and when you told me you loved me, I got scared. Because I thought that I’d become one of those people to you too.”

“That’s not-”

“No.” Draco stops Harry for butting in. “No. We’re not pretending any longer. I love you-” thump goes Harry’s heart in his chest, eyes bulging and smile unable to be stopped “-but sometimes I seriously don’t like you.”

Harry’s smile does dim at that, but only slightly.

Draco looks away at last, his hands on his hips, and starts pacing. “I couldn’t believe-” sharp glance at Harry through the pacing, “-you just left after you said that. I couldn’t believe you’d actually not answer my owls. You’re an absolute coward sometimes.”

“You didn’t say anything…” Harry mumbles.

“Oh,” Draco responds with an eyeroll, still pacing, “so you get to freak out for a week, but I’m not allowed longer than a couple of minutes to compose myself?”

Harry ducks his eyes, ashamed.

Draco hmphs, and pauses in his pacing to look down his nose at Harry. “That’s right. You should feel bad.”

Shirt-Harry shakes his head at real-Har- “God Draco, take the shirt off!”

“What?” Draco is shocked into pausing his restless movement. “Take my shirt off? You haven’t even apologised and want to get me half naked like the rest of you? I think not!”

“That’s not- ugh, forget this.” Harry reaches forward and grabs Draco mid-pace. “Draco.” Deep breath. Harry meets Draco’s eyes. Draco looks like he’s been through his paces. He doesn’t even look angry anymore, he just looks like the culmination of a week of stress. Ron and Hermione are eating dry cereal right out of the box from their perch as they watch, and they both give Harry nods and a thumbs up in encouragement when his eyes stray to them.

He’s a stoic man: Draco and Hermione are right. He hasn’t had to be brave in a long while. This is a moment that’s worth it though, even if he has to fake it at first.

“I’m sorry.” He has to pause at that, because he can feel the emotions bubbling up a bit too high. He takes a deep breath, and makes sure that Draco’s eyes don’t stray. “You’re… you’re right. About a lot of that-”

Draco buts in with “I’m right about all of it, actua-”

“Shut up, do you want me to get this out?”

Draco concedes.

Harry takes another breath, but the nerves have disappeared in the face of Draco’s unfiltered verve. “I shouldn’t have left. I was-”

“A coward.”

“Draco.”

“…sorry.”

“I was. I was a coward. I was scared. You didn’t respond, which never happens. You’re so good with your words.” He has to take a minute to collect his thoughts, but finds the right thread. “I love you, and have done for a while. I ran because I kind of didn’t mean to say it then. We were already fighting about something, and it just came out, which wasn’t right, and sometimes I’m so afraid that things will change, because you’re my best friend-” “Hey!” “-my best friend and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You should have said that then.”

Harry closes his eyes. God, feelings are so bloody hard. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Oh well, as long as you know.”

“Draco. Shut up.” He swallows. “I like my job.”

“No, you don’t. You come home-” a sharp breath “-you come to mine, I mean. You come to mine after work and you can’t stop complaining. We like our jobs. I’m sure when Hermione finishes her ChP and becomes the Minister she’ll love her job too.” (“It’s a PhD, Draco, I’ve told you a million times.” “Maybe another time, Herm.”)

Harry has to breath deeper, because his blood is pumping a bit too fast in his ears. He drops his hands from Draco and takes a couple of steps back. A retreat. “I think,” and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can force the words out of his throat. He looks up and meets all of their eyes. “I don’t think I can do important things anymore. I. I don’t want to- I.”

“Merlin sakes, Harry.” Draco says. “I think it may be time we force you into therapy.” And Draco just looks impatient. “You can’t keep pretending it’s not a problem, and we can’t keep letting you!”

Harry. Harry nods. He thinks he nods. It’s what he wants to do, but he’s not really looking at anyone anymore, eyes to the ground, heart a bit too fast in his chest for comfort. He wishes that he was still eating soggy cereal in the kitchen before the post arrived this morning. He’s a stoic coward.

Draco seems to take a deep breath, and then he turns around to face the others. “Okay, get up. I’m sick of standing in Weasley’s kitchen.”

Harry takes a pause and looks at Draco’s face. He’s perfectly serious, and so is the Harry on his shirt.  Harry’s heart is still racing, but Draco just looks resigned and present. He can’t help himself from smiling a little when his eyes catch on Draco’s. He gets a pretty severe glare in response, before Draco just walks right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Harry follows, and hears the small grunt from Hermione hitting the ground behind him. Two sets of feet follow his own.

“Don’t forget my tea, Weasley!”

Ron scoffs, but still walks back into the kitchen to make a tea he’d promised about 20 minutes earlier.

Harry sits down on the floor in the same place he sat last night. Draco’s chosen the armchair near the fire; where he usually sits. Hermione stomps over to take the seat on the couch closest to the armchair, and Ron can be heard pottering around the kitchen.

“PhD.”

Draco looks to Hermione with a frown. “What?”

Hermione looks haughty yet contrite. Like she actually can’t help herself from making sure that Draco knows he was wrong, and feels a little bit sorry about it. “It’s a PhD, not a ChP or whatever you called it.”

“Honestly Granger, what does it matter?”

A harrumph from Hermione as she settles back into Ron’s expensive couch cushions. “It’s a very important thing.”

Harry chucks her a grin, and she smiles back proudly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Why do you all insist on patting yourselves on the back constantly. You don’t see me singing my own praises.”

Ron let’s out a violent laugh from the kitchen, and Draco flushes a little bit, his eyes flicking to Harry who grins at him too.

Mugs float out from the kitchen, Ron trailing behind. Harry grabs his out of the air and cherishes the sent of the strong tea. He can’t help but laugh when Hermione grimaces at the taste of her milkless cup, and Draco looks at her as if he’s won something.

Harry’s won something. He’s won Draco sitting here in Ron’s expensive apartment, Draco rolling his eyes when Hermione chides him about his too sweet tea, then Draco chiding Ron when he argues that Ron made it too sweet anyway, and that if he has to have teeth work done it’ll be Ron’s fault.

“You can make your own tea, you know, you’re not that famous.”

“Actually, Weasley, I’m more famous than all three of you, currently. The only thing getting you through is dumb luck and a gullible consumer base. I get by on pure talent.”

“Sure, Draco.”

“Also, I expect thanks when Wheezes gets the significant boost in sales it’s sure to this week, what with the Prophet this morning.”

“Sure, Draco.”

Harry smiles. His arse will probably start hurting before his mug is drained, and the sounds of arguing will get tiring soon after that. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Therapy. I’ll do it.”

Ron and Hermione smile at him like they knew it was coming all along, pressed up against each other on the expensive couches. Draco just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for who knows what. Probably an oral manifesto of Harry’s recognised faults and his plans to change them. Harry just smiles right back at Draco, wide and unashamed. Draco shakes his head a little bit, lips pulling up too.

Harry’s worried that if Draco keeps looking at him at all that he’ll have to walk over there and kiss him without warning. He picks his mug up and keeps sipping though, pretends he doesn’t absolutely need to do just that. Because there’s going to be time. Lots of it.

His stoicism has its uses sometimes, maybe.

[autumnsnuggling]

Of Stone Steps and Speccy Gits

I was hit by inspiration and this came out of it! Teen and up for language (it’s colourful) but no other warnings. 800 words. Thanks to @teawithpotter for the quick beta! Any mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy! 

It was raining. Why was it always raining?! And cold. So fucking cold. You wouldn’t have thought it was only September. Stupid fucking British weather. Mother had told him to go to France. Why in Merlin’s name hadn’t he listened?

Hissing at a sudden brisk wind, he quickly renewed both his umbrella and warming charms, frowning as the latter failed to keep the icy feeling in his legs at bay. Stupid stone steps. Whoever invented them needed a good kicking—and yes, he was volunteering. Not that he had the energy, of course. His afternoon had been sure to drain him of that. 

God, he could use a cup of Earl Grey right about now. But acquiring some would mean actually doing the thing he’d been avoiding for the last hour or so, and given that he wasn’t completely frozen yet, that simply wasn’t going to happen. But as the rain fractured his spellwork one drop at a time, the rude gnawing sensation that had accosted him for the better part of the afternoon returned with a vengeance. 

He could leave—should leave, in fact. Honestly, he didn’t know why he’d walked here in the first place. This was the last, most ridiculous option he could have ever imagined turning to. And yet here he was. Freezing his bollocks off. Slowly allowing the rain’s dribble to ruin his fine attire. With absolutely no intention of leaving, no matter what his stupidly jittering nerves wanted him to do. But knowing he wasn’t going anywhere didn’t mean he knew what the fuck to do now.

How did people make this look so simple? So easy? As though the very thought of it didn’t make them want to tear their very skin into confetti and bury themselves underneath it? It was unnatural. Absurd. Impertinent! The idea of his arse permanently attaching itself to the steps was preferable in comparison. It was completely, utterly, disgustingly—

"Malfoy?"

—inescapable.

Fuck.

Instinct, cursed and traitorous, whipped his head around so fast his neck almost snapped in two, revealing—as dreaded—the saviour himself.

"Potter," he drawled quickly, as he lost the fight to yet another outrageously impudent shiver. "How nice of you to join me." 

Merlin. How could a single bemused smile warm his insides so? 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Enjoying the ambiance," he quipped. "You should try it sometime. Some peace might settle that permanently electrocuted hair of yours."

Ugh, and just when did the roll of those stupidly brilliant eyes become so familiar? So addictive? 

"Draco..."

But there it was. His destruction. A single word. Two soft, measly syllables. And as they rolled gently, kindly, effortlessly from Potter's mouth, Draco’s perfectly arched eyebrow dropped limply back to it’s natural pathetic position quicker than a hippogriff could drop a turd. 

“Well, there may have been a minor misunderstanding with the prick I was sharing a flat with—”

“Was sharing a flat with?” Potter, the absolute wanker, smirked.

“Yes, was,” Draco snipped. “And I may have called him an absolute twat-waffle who I couldn’t bear to lay eyes upon ever again—” Harry snorted—“and for some incomprehensible reason, it appears he was offended.”

“Imagine that,” Potter barely suppressed a chuckle.

“Anyway,” Draco glared pointedly before sucking in a deep breath. “He may have changed the locks, warded the flat with Auror grade spells and left town for the foreseeable future.”

“I see.” Potter failed to suppress a horribly knowing grin. Wanker. “So… you’re locked out.”

Draco pursed his lips. The patterns the rain was creating on the concrete suddenly demanded his attention. “I suppose, if you must insist on being crude, you could put it that way.”

“And you have nowhere to go, seeing as Pansy and Greg are away, your parents live in France, and Blaise is off shacking up with every fuckable bloke in Brazil?”

“Bloody selfish cunts, the lot of them.”

“And so you decided that sitting out on the cold steps in front of my house, in the rain, after having walked for an hour because you hate apparating, was preferable to sitting on the cold steps in front of yours because...?” 

“Yours has a more satisfying view,” he grumbled into his knees. Because really, who wouldn’t prefer a crumbling grey cul-de-sac over a grassy knoll? A twat-waffle. That’s who.

“Of course!” Potter was practically vibrating with silent laughter. “Uh, one final question,” he leant against the door frame, crossing those disgusting, thin, inviting arms over his chest with far too much nonchalance. “Just how long have you been admiring my spectacular view?”

As a single drop of frigid water slowly rolled down Draco’s neck, he viciously fought the heinous urge to shudder once more.

“Well, surrounded by such beauty, though a simpleton such as yourself may struggle to see it—it’s rather difficult to keep track of time, Potter. And I didn’t check the particular minute that my hoofwanking bunglecunt of an ex-roommate abandoned me to the elements, so it’s rather unfair of you to demand such an answer, and I—” 

“Draco?” 

He sighed. “What?”

“Get inside, you knob.”

[immxrtalbi]

I finally did a masterlist!! It’s categorized in ships and I rounded them. They’re not really in any order, and will update whenever I do a new story and so on. Also read the tags carefully in the other page! Give love and comments :)

~~~

~ Tom/Harry

Physical Obliviate [E, 15k; Ongoing]

Harry wakes up with no memory of his past life. The only thing he remembers is a girl screaming at him to run. Luckily, he meets Abraxas who treats him real well and even lets Harry stay at his manor. Sounds simple enough. But upon meeting a man named Riddle, Harry can't help but feel like he's met him before, and the scar on his forehead burns just by looking at him.

Azkaban Break [ E, 9k]

"Are you afraid of me… Potter, is it?" He mocked. Bastard.

Harry nodded, still wary.

"Oh. For a second, I thought I forgot about it," Voldemort said in a dull tone.

It shouldn't be surprising that his temper got the best out of him. "I'm Harry Potter. And of course I'm not afraid! You're here because you murdered several people and almost ruled Britain! You got everything you deserve."

Twinkle Riddle [T, 1k]

Harry Potter is a portrait, and makes a living in making Tom's life hell by pretending he doesn't hear the passwords.

Horcruxes Dearest [T. 800 words]

Tom somehow ends up in the future where a young man named Harry wears his belongings.

Feasting on a Lie [E, 800 words]

"You know how we do it," Tom reminded. He gulped a mouthful of blood and then reached the back of Harry's head, pulling the hair before pushing him forward in a deep kiss.

Scaly Rumors [M, 6k]

Things got stranger for Harry. He kept dreaming about the lake, the light he saw. Hands touching him. He would wake up every time, sweating and calling out for someone. Harry didn't know who to talk to about this without sounding insane.

The wound on his collarbone didn't heal. It left a huge bite mark—that wasn't from a grindylow. Harry told no one about it. And what made matters worse, everyone seemed to be aware of his obsession with the lake.

Home of Three [T, 2k]

"Teddy is fine," he insisted, narrowing his eyes towards him.

Harry had frowned and said, "Teddy, be nice. Tom didn't mean any harm."

"It's quite alright, Harry." Then Tom crossed his arms, lips forming into a grin—which Teddy found scary. "Teddy," he tested the name out, almost mockingly, "I get a feeling we're going to get along just fine."

Dirty Little Secret [T, 2k]

Harry would've been scared of a furious Tom if he was sober, but not right now. Instead he sighed and glanced at his empty glass. While he was relieved that he didn't kiss Cedric, he was disappointed that nothing exciting happened.

A part of him wanted to believe that Tom would declare his love and kiss him in front of everybody. But alas, his dream didn't come true.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tom hissed closely, careful to avoid others from overhearing.

Caged Love [M, 4k]

Tom's heart did a flip. He never wanted to let Harry go. "If I ever meet them, I'll kill them."

Laughing, Harry shook his head and pulled him closer. "You're such a kidder!"

But Tom wasn't kidding. He was being dead serious. If this was love, Tom would make sure to keep it caged up so others wouldn't have it.

Harry was his.

Paper Crane of Mistakes [T, 1k]

Harry grumbled and walked faster, hoping Tom could take the hint. He didn't. Tom kept talking about how Harry should try harder in school and stop causing trouble.

"Don't you ever stop talking!" Harry glared at him. "You need to loosen up. Go get laid or something—"

"Is that an offer?" Tom smirked.

Harry raised his hand and made sure the punch left a good mark.

Two Alike Sides [T, 1k]

He covered his hand on Harry's—it was still on his chest—and gently pulled it off, but he didn't let go, instead he laced their fingers together. "Your way of thinking will be your demise one day," Tom informed him, almost darkly.

"Maybe so," Harry whispered, and he attempted to pull away, except Tom wouldn't let him.

*Series We’re Not in Hogwarts Anymore [Ongoing, currently 5k]

*Part 1: Magic Gone [T, 2k]

"If you're here for money... let me assure you that you won't get a single pound from me," Tom promised.

"I don't want your money! I have my own in a vault!" Harry snapped.

"A what?"

"Forget it." Harry pushed away his plate. All he had was his wand and a few Galleons in his pockets. "I have nowhere to go. I'm not from around here. Can I just stay for a few days until this gets sorted out—"

*Part 2: Reliving Nightmares [T, 2k] 

"Then why do I still make you scream?" Then Voldemort touched Harry's scar on his forehead, causing Harry to cry in agony. It felt like he was struck with crucio.

'Stop it, stop it, stop it! Please!'

Then Harry was awakened by someone shaking him. By the same man who made his life a living hell.

"You were crying in your sleep—" Tom didn't have a chance to finish as Harry pushed him away like a maniac.

*Part 3: Scotland Blues [T, 2k]

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't raised his head. The whole time he was staring at Tom's collarbone because he knew if he looked into his eyes… Harry would see a strong emotion he wasn't ready to face just yet. He could deny his own feelings, but not Tom's.

~ Cedric/Harry

6 Year Anniversary, Not 5 [E, 1k]

"Happy Anniversary," Harry breathed. He liked the way Cedric's fingers massaged his nape; it brought shivers down his spine.

"You're the best husband I could ever ask for."

~ Regulus/James

Broomsticks & Crushes [T, 2k]

Taking Harry to get a broomstick was what James was looking forward to, however, he didn’t expect Regulus Black to be the owner of Black’s Brooms. And that his crush on James hadn’t faded since their times at Hogwarts. Would he give Regulus a chance this time around?

~ Teddy/James S.

Nothing to Worry About [T, 1k]

"Can you please stop pacing? It's making me nervous," Teddy said with a frown.

James, who was circling around the couch, replied, "How can you not be nervous? We're telling my dad that we've been dating for a while—How are you this calm?"

~ Rarepairs

Badges Off [T, 900 words] (Cedric/Draco)

Draco asks Cedric to the ball after Cho told him she’s already going with someone else.

To Being Roommates [T, 1.5k] (Regulus/Harry)

Regulus and Harry are forced to be roommates since both own 12 Grimmauld place and no one wants to leave.

Reserved Seeker [T, 1k] (Regulus/Harry)

Regulus was hanging upside down. His legs holding onto the broom, his hair falling all around his face, and a smirk on his lips. Harry had never been more enamored.

Decode Me [M, 6k; Ongoing] (Edward/Harry) 

Harry just had to save people's lives, again, not caring whatever happened to him. He assumed that the time-turner would kill him... not landing Harry in a river in the middle of nowhere. Bleeding and hurt while walking around the forest, he didn't expect a good looking man to save him, or for Harry to sense something wasn't right.

~ No Pairings

Secret Diary [T, 1k]

Albus and Scorpius read Harry's old diary and find out that Voldemort was the not worst thing he had dealt with.

[drarryangels]

For the prompts, can I please get Drarry and touch starved? P.s. you're writing is amazing.

SO. I am so, so incredibly sorry. This prompt is soooo oooold. Oh my god I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this. I love and appreciate you, and a million apologies. 

I hope you like this. I tried hard. 

1990

“Boy!” Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing viciously at Harry. Every step took him closer and closer to Harry, sweatily clambering into his space. “Get in the cupboard now!”

Harry wrapped his arms around himself and slowly edged towards the cupboard. He was only a couple steps from the entrance of the cupboard now. His cupboard. Oh, how he wished it wasn’t his. How he wished it was a cupboard like any other. 

Uncle Vernon came closer. A step before the sill of the cupboard door, Harry stopped and wheeled around to Uncle Vernon’s purple face. “I don’t want to go,” Harry whimpered, doing his best to prevent his face from crinkling up into a sob. 

Every bone in his body was screaming at him to close his mouth, shut it all down. No tears, no little gasps of air. His body betrayed him. 

“What did you say, boy?” Uncle Vernon leered down at Harry, leaning closer and closer. 

“Nothing,” Harry murmured. He backed even further towards the cupboard. Harry chanced a glance backwards. Darkness crept out of the edges of the tiny cupboard, sneaking out of the spiderwebs and into Harry’s belly. He shook his head back and forth a little. One breath and he’d be inside.

No matter what Uncle Vernon did, no matter how many meals he had to miss, no matter how many chores he had to do. No matter what it cost, Harry didn’t think he could go a centimeter closer to the beckoning cupboard door. The tiny grail on the door gleamed cruelly at him, waiting for the door to slam behind him. 

“Get in,” Uncle Vernon said. Mockery fell out of his voice and the sharp knife of brutality edged its way into his tone. It wouldn’t be long before Aunt Petunia would come pecking out of the kitchen, wielding a hot frying pan. 

See, the thing about the Dursleys was that they never touched Harry. Harry couldn’t think of a single time in his life when he had been willingly touched by another human, except for when an odd man had come up to shake his hand in a store nearly a year ago. 

Even when the Dursleys forced him to do something, they refused to touch him. The only contact Harry ever received was when someone’s shoulder brushed against his on the rare occasion that he was taken out in public. 

Despite the fact that the Dursleys never allowed their bare skin anywhere near his, they did happen to be very creative in punishing him in other ways. Belts and frying pans were favorites. 

Uncle Vernon’s voice came through him in waves and wobbled throughout his skull before he could understand what was happening. By the time it reached his understanding that Uncle Vernon would make him sorry if he didn’t go in his cupboard when asked, the end of a well oiled belt was already whipping down through the air. 

The sharp crack of the end of the leather belt resounded through the entry way. Pain slapped across Harry’s shoulder, and he reached up automatically to protect himself. A light whip drifted through the air in shimmering horror. The belt fell perfectly on his wrist, which would be easily covered up by a long sleeved t-shirt and passed off as a nasty fall if seen. The Dursleys were nothing if not excellent at maintaining a reputation.

Harry distantly felt himself crumple over, falling back into his cupboard. The dark corners swallowed him whole as he tumbled onto the pillow crammed in the back. Most days it served as his matress, but occasionally, the ratty feathers made for his blanket. Uncle Vernon slammed the door before his skimpy frame was tucked all the way in,and his foot got caught in the doorway. Uncle Vernon took a long look at a bony toe wiggled into a hole in one of Dudley’s ratty socks before slamming the crooked door over Harry’s ankle repeatedly. 

Harry didn’t make a peep. The door slammed over and over again and the noise cracked through the house like a quiet flame lighting under a cold rock. Spikes drove up Harry’s leg, but he managed to pull in his foot by the pant leg and stared wide eyed up at Uncle Vernon until he slammed the door for good. 

The shiny metal grill grinned at him through stripes of shuttered light. Then Uncle Vernon slid the grill closed and Harry was alone. 

That cupboard door didn’t open for another week after that. 

1999

Firelight flickered over Harry’s face and warmed him up through the tip of his nose. A weight dipped the couch next to him, but he didn’t turn to look who it was. If he bothered to think about it, he knew who it was. No one other than Ron and Hermione spoke to him these days, and even they didn’t come by often. After the war had ended, all of Harry’s friends got busy with the continuation of their lives and Harry fell behind with every step of a life he hadn’t expected. Only one person ever came around these days.

“Potter,” Draco said softly. No matter how many times Harry had asked him to call him Harry instead of Potter, Draco still insisted on it. “Potter,” Draco said again.

“What is it?” Harry asked quietly, still not looking up. 

Grimmauld Place stood sturdy and strong, warmer and brighter since Harry had moved in and renovated after the war. It served as both a dreadful reminder and a longing glimpse at everything the war had taken and given, but Harry couldn’t imagine ever letting go of it. Surprisingly, it had become home. 

“Am I allowed to ask what happened today?” Draco said, scooting closer on the couch and bringing his knees up to his chin. 

Harry shrugged and sunk deeper into the couch cushions. Draco could ask.

He could ask all he wanted about the little guest bedroom at the top of the stairs. He could ask about how small it was, or how Harry had ended up locked in there for the better part of a day thanks to the upended magic of Blacks. He could ask about when Draco had come around for tea, as he always did, why he had found Harry in a sobbing, shaking mess clutching onto the handle of the locked door. Why when Draco opened the door, Harry couldn’t move at first because he was expecting a blow to come hailing from above, his reward for being liberated. 

Although Draco could ask, that didn’t mean Harry had to answer any of the questions. 

But then, Draco had pried Harry’s hands off the rusted door handle and touched Harry’s back gently and Harry had hurtled forward, catching Draco into a crushing hug. And instead of doing everything Harry expected him to do, he’d simply tugged Harry a little closer and held on. 

So when Draco said, “It’s okay if the answer is no.”

Harry said, “No. I mean yes. I- I’m sorry. I’ll explain.” Draco watched him patiently and Harry took a deep breath. “My aunt and uncle… they didn’t treat me like a person really.”

Draco lay his hand over the hand Harry was worrying into the threads of the pillow on the couch. “We don’t have to talk about this-”

“I do,” Harry interrupted. He finally looked up at Draco, whose eyes were open and sweet, and who was sitting, ready to listen like no one ever was. “If you don’t mind listening, I’d like to talk about it.”

“Okay,” a soft smile slipped over Draco’s cheeks and he intertwined his fingers with Harry’s, effectively stopping him from rubbing holes into the couch. 

Harry toyed with the pillow in between them for a moment before pushing it off the couch. He watched Draco watch him as he moved closer to him and closed the gap in between their knees on the couch. “I never think about it like this, but I suppose my aunt and uncle abused me.” Harry tried to ignore Draco’s sharp intake of breath. “They never touched me. Not with their skin at least. But they were pretty generous with getting me to do what they wanted with a belt or kitchen ware.”

Draco was shaking his head, his mouth open in a little ‘o’. Something in Harry’s chest squeezed tightly. Lungs, heart, ribs. He shook his shoulders a little and rotated his body to face Draco’s.

“It’s… difficult to talk about. Or even think about really.” Harry inhaled heavily. “When I was two, they put me in a cupboard. The one under the stairs.” Harry’s words came out jolted and uneven. He tried to control the ragged timing of his air coming out in abrasive gasps. The sound echoed endlessly in his ears. “I lived there until I was almost eleven.”

“Potter,” Draco interrupted. The two were now sitting opposite each other, their knees touching. Harry stared at the ground while Draco tried to pick up Harry’s face with his eyes. “You really don’t have to tell me any of this.” Draco paused. “I know things are different between us now. But I’m not- I’m not Ronald or Hermione.”

Harry finally squeezed Draco’s hand in return. This part was new. The touching and hand holding. It only ever happened when they were alone, in private, but it still existed in the most wonderful, stomach-swooping of ways. 

“I know,” Harry said slowly, “but it’s easier to say this to you.”

“Why me?”

“Because in some ways… you understand it?” Harry looked at Draco carefully. Maybe Harry was reading this all wrong, and Draco had no idea how important it was that he tell Draco this and not Ron and Hermione. Harry tried to shrug it off casually. 

Draco lightly brushed his fingers over Harry’s shoulder before dropping his hand back into his own lap. “I think I get it. The things I went through when I was younger with my father, and the things from the Manor when the Dark- when He was there, are different. But I suppose, they’re the same in some ways.”

Harry nodded, mostly to reassure himself. And it was with that he found himself telling Draco everything that had transpired from the moment he could remember recognizing that the Dursleys were not his own family. He told Draco all about the cupboard, the chores, the bullying. They never touched him with their bare skin. How he’d had a panic attack when Hermione hugged him for the first time. How he never let anyone touch him until fifth year, when Cho had kissed him. He cried then because the feeling of bare skin touching a part of him that was so new was so inherently wrong, even though it felt so good. He spoke until his mouth was dry about the hitting, and the ignoring, and the slapping away all traces of magic. 

It was horrible, every bit of it. When he finished, his face was wet with tears and his tongue was paper from every bit of his life that he hadn’t let himself touch. But by the end, Draco was looking at him with a face that didn’t look any different than it had when he had started. Sadder, maybe. But there was no pity or revenge. 

“Do you know,” Harry laughed wetly, trying to pull every torn memory from the past several hours into one sentence. “The thing I was most afraid of was being seen.”

“I know,” Draco whispered, his cheeks glimmering with unnoticed tears. “I know.”

Maybe it was the look in Draco’s eyes, or the way he was leaning just slightly forward into Harry’s words. Perhaps it was because Draco Malfoy had become a beautiful soul. For the first time in his life, Harry reached out to touch someone before they touched him. It was a move of trust, and of giving a piece of himself to someone he was expecting to protect it forever. He linked his fingers between Draco’s and pulled him in to kiss him on the cheek. 

The second passed in the gust of an exhale and Harry leaned back again. Draco smiled through his tears and cautiously swiped his thumb under Harry’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Draco said. “For what they did to you, and for being so cruel when we met. And thank you for telling me.” 

Relief plunged through Harry’s veins. Someday, he thought, he would tell Draco the other things. Dumbledore and his missions and crazy plans. The give and take of both having and not having Sirius in his life. His parents. Dying and then coming back to life. 

Someday. For now, he just let Draco hold onto his hand and talk to him quietly about things that wouldn’t matter in the morning. 

2009

“Mmph,” Draco groaned, turning his face into the pillow. Harry smiled and propped himself up on his elbow to watch the smooth swells and curves of Draco’s back. He scooted closer to Draco and bent his head down briefly to inhale into the joint of Draco’s shoulder and neck.

“Draco,” Harry whispered. He lifted a hand carefully to the back of Draco’s neck and trailed his fingertips down his spine, letting his hand bump over the soft ridges of his back. “Wake up.”

“Why?” Draco grumbled into the pillow. Harry brushed his lips lightly against the fine hairs at the soft nape of Draco’s neck. It was the kind of light kiss that was barely meant to be felt, only given. “Who s’this?” Draco muttered.

“It’s Harry,” he grinned and tried not to snicker. 

“Potter?” Draco sat up suddenly, his hair sticking up in every direction and a muddled expression smeared across his face from sleep. “I know him!”

Harry laughed and reached up to pat Draco’s hair down. “Love, you married him.”

Draco whirled to see Harry laying back in the white nest of the comforter and blankets. “Oh,” Draco flopped back and closed his eyes tightly against the thin golden light. “S’too early.”

Harry slung his body over Draco’s and threw a leg around his hips. Draco shifted under him and made a gruff noise that Harry ignored, instead opting to cuddle himself closer. “Not happy to hear you married me?”

Draco grunted and sleepily looped his hands around Harry’s waist. “A loser like you?” He shrugged lopsidedly, pressed up into the pillows. “I would never.”

Harry melted the rest of his body weight over Draco to squish him. “Git. I love you.”

Pale eyelashes lifted up and a hint of gray peeked out from Draco’s face. “I love you too.”

[fanficflaneuse]

Sleepless

A/N: Hello, magical tumblr beings. First of all, I can't to thank you enough for all your love and support on my very first imagine ever (you can check it out here). I wrote yet another fluffy, sickly-sweet, absolutely self indulgent imagine. I hope you like this one as well! 

Details: 

Draco Malfoy x reader (she/her pronouns). 

Words: 1689 

Summary: the reader has insomnia and decides to roam the castle in the middle of the night. Fluff ensues. 

Disclaimers: so Draco’s characterization here was a bit of a problem. It still bothers me a bit. This is fluffy and a bit pointless. Mentions of Dolores Umbridge. 

(Y/N) got tired of tossing and turning in bed. The soft snoring of her roommates only made things worse. She peaked through the curtains of her four-poster bed and saw Hermione sleeping. Her best friend had fallen in the arms of Morpheus a while ago.  And there she was, unable to close her eyes as the night seemed to stretch infinitely.

(Y/N) couldn’t remember a time in her life when she hadn’t suffered from insomnia. Usually, the sleeping draught helped her, but these days the stress around her was so overpowering she hadn’t even ventured into Madam Pomfrey’s realm for a small dose.

This year things were agitated to say the least. Pained by the tragedy at the Triwizard Tournament, Harry insisted that Voldemort was back. People were harsh. They mocked him, spread rumours about how he had lost his mind, accused him of lying. Some even claimed that he had murdered Cedric Diggory. She was one of Harry’s closest friends and she had her own reasons to believe him, which meant she was also a member of Dumbledore’s Army.

If the strain of running an underground society wasn’t enough, the fact that Dolores Umbridge had taken over the school gave plenty of reasons to drive anyone mad. The sickly-sweet pink lady was one of the most hateful people (Y/N) had ever met. She seemed to have taken a bow to make students’ lives miserable. She was dead set against Harry and the three people she, rather contemptuously, referred to as his “dream team”, which, of course, included her, along with Hermione and Ron.

The icing on the cake? (Y/N) had a crush. An annoying, deeply confusing crush on the one boy she definitely shouldn’t be ogling at. She blamed Snape for this. Hadn’t he decided that (Y/N) and Hermione had to be separated in his class, she wouldn’t have to seat next to the most hands...stupid and obnoxious Slytherin in the whole school. She wouldn’t have to talk to him every day, notice the little gestures that made him seem so vulnerable, so human. How his big grey eyes could hold so much emotion. How he had expressive eyebrows. How the corners of his lips curled just slightly in an awkward attempt to the friendly to her. How he’d fumble with his family ring and pout when he was confused. How he had this one single curl that wouldn’t be tamed regardless of how he combed his blond hair. How he would always treat her with kindness, albeit with a bit of playful cockiness, even when he was horrible to her friends.

Yes, it was totally Snape’s fault. Now, she not only had to deal with the butterflies and the blushing, the typical embarrassment of such situations, but also the guilt of liking a guy who’d call her best friends horrible slurs and created elaborate campaigns to discredit and embarrass them. What was wrong with her? She felt like a traitor.

If Ron thought Cho Chang could explode from an emotional overload, (Y/N) felt she could combust then and there.

Tired of being in bed, she pushed her covers and stood up. She slid into her linen night robe and slippers and left the room, swiftly and silently as a cat. It was not the first time (Y/N) roamed through the castle late at night. Walking helped to ease her mind and she found that the castle seemed more beautiful and enthralling the darker and lonelier it was.

(Y/N) was so distracted she didn’t realize she had unconsciously walked all the way to the astronomy tower. She decided to climb up, something she had never done in all of her nightly rounds. Once she walked through the door, (Y/N)’s gaze met those stormy grey eyes that gave her both butterflies and heartache at the same time. She gulped and took a few steps back. If she could’ve guessed, she probably looked terrified at the moment; he was, after all, part of Umbridge’s inquisitors.

“(Y/N) wait,” he said softly.

“Will you report me with Umbridge?” she asked, panicky.

“What? No. I just… what are you doing here?”

“I can’t sleep,” she shrugged.

She turned around to leave when she heard him whisper a “me neither” that sounded a bit desperate. She pictured his lips curled down ever just slightly and, finding the image adorable, decided to turn around. (Y/N) found him fiddling with his ring, which made her smile. He looked so shy and a cute that she couldn’t believe it was the same guy who could make her knees buckle with one of his infamous cocky smirks. She walked towards him while crossing her arms, suddenly self-conscious of her choice of outfit.

“Why so shy?” he asked, trying to go back to his cocky, confident persona, complete with checking her out. He thought he had nailed it until she raised an eyebrow in response, which made him cringe at his choice of words.

Draco Malfoy was used to having his walls so frighteningly high it was conflicting for him to interact with someone he actually wanted to let in. With her, her smart questions, her kind smile, the way he treated him as an equal and how she seemed to be interested in what he actually had to say, he felt the façade crumbling to bits. With his walls down, though, his “suave” persona turned a bit to dust. Around her, he felt dorky. Draco Malfoy dorky? Merlin, if his father knew this.

“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked absentmindedly, completely disregarding his last question. He noticed how her gaze shifted to the sky, her face full of wonder. He looked back at the stars as well and spotted Orion immediately.

“I have a lot in my mind,” he answered, “what about you?”

“Me too,” she answered.

“That’s Taurus, right?” she asked, pointing at the wrong constellation.

Draco smiled. Whenever they finished their work with a few minutes to spare, they would seat down and talk about their interests. Astronomy and Greek mythology were amongst the many topics they covered. He shared his knowledge on the first and learned about the later.  

The conversation then changed topics and they found themselves sitting on the floor, backs against the railing, sharing laughs and jokes and experiences. It was the first time they had the chance to have a full-on conversation, to ramble, laugh and be unapologetically friendly. Usually, their conversations ended after the bell rang. Tonight, they could talk for as long as they wanted to. Make each other blush as many times as they wanted to. Seat as incredibly close to each other as they wanted to. No one was waiting for the outside of the classroom, nobody would judge or mock them for being friendly with the other. Suddenly, (Y/N) was not mad that the night seemed to stretch infinitively.

“So, you believe Potter,” Draco pointed out.  

There was a bit of fake annoyance in his voice.  The conversation taken a more serious tone when she mentioned something about his inquisitorial squad.

“He is my best friend,” (Y/N) answered, shrugging once again.

“Pansy is my best friend and I don’t believe half of the things she says,” Draco stated, trying to light up the mood once again. He mentally patted his back when (Y/N) laughed.

“If there is one person that truly knows Harry is not lying it’s you, Draco”.

She said this without a trace of malice in her voice. She was merely stating a fact. Draco could’ve pretended he was offended, he could’ve scoffed and stormed off, how dare she imply he and his family had something to do with the Dark L Volde You Know Who? He could use that to stand up, close that door and never see her again, not have to deal with the terrible crush he had on her. But here’s the thing, he didn’t want to do any of that. He wanted to keep talking to her now and every single day. He wanted to see if she felt that same tickling in his stomach whenever he was around. And he wanted to kiss her. So so badly.

Besides, everybody knew his parents had connections to the Dark Lord. And his father…his father had been acting rather strangely when he got back home from his fourth year. He had talked nonsense all summer. It hadn’t taken him too long to connect the dots. He knew Voldemort was back. There was no doubt about it. But until he decided to reveal himself, he had to play his part. And thus, the whole Potter stinks campaign had started.

“(Y/N/N)…” he looked down, sad and ashamed.

She put her hand on his arm and their eyes met again. Draco was transfixed. (Y/N)’s heart was pounding hard on her chest. She leaned in slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of his reaction. Their noses were almost touching. She put one of her hands gently on Draco’s cheek and he leaned into her touch. The both closed their eyes as their lips finally touched. The kiss was slow at first, a bit shy even. But then they got comfortable with each other, his hands travelled to her waist, the hand that wasn’t on his cheek tangled in his blond hair. The kiss became hungrier. He bit her lip, she slithered her tongue into his mouth.

When they finally pulled away, Draco looked at (Y/N)’s flushed face and found himself absolutely smitten.

“I fancy you, Draco” she blurted out.

Draco gave her a huge, wholehearted smile. She smiled back.

“I fancy you too, (Y/N/N),” he said as he caressed her hair softly.

The kissed again and again, sweet chaste kisses and pecks that made them both erupt in giggles. Draco felt on cloud nine. (Y/N) couldn’t believe what was happening. That night, they didn’t speak of every possible way in which things could possibly go wrong. They didn’t talk about Draco’s concerns and certainties, about the war to come. They didn’t talk about (Y/N)’s guilt about her friends. They just kissed and talked and held each other all night.

And it was a beautiful night.

[selenes-sun]

Two//

Platonic! Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

This was inspired by the song “Two” By Sleeping At Last which is linked here!

Masterlist

A/N: For my first Draco fic I thought I would write something Angsty so here you go! I hope you enjoy it because this song made me really emotional and it inspired me to write this equally emotional fic. Also this is my first song fic so I really hope I did this right😅! Requests are open! :D (gif not mine)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I first saw you, you were surrounded by all of your friends, you looked so happy. You were smiling at something your friend was telling you. You seemed like you had everything you needed and more.

I didn’t know you yet but I was happy for you. I was happy that you found the happiness you needed.

The second time I saw you, you were alone. I went up to you because you looked upset, and I wanted to make you feel better. Although you did push me away.

But I saw you again. You were with your friends again and you were laughing. To the stranger’s eye, it’ll look like you were genuinely happy, but the more I looked at you, I could see how fake it was.

Sweetheart, you look a little tired 

When did you last eat?

I kept catching you when you were alone and you always looked upset. I tried talking to you every time, but you were always very closed off. Then one day, I finally broke through your wall. You started talking and I just sat there and listened.

I could tell that you appreciated the company. We would always meet up at the strangest times, but I did it for you. I never cared if it was the middle of the night or the crack of dawn. I was always there for you. 

It was finally summertime. We kept meeting up. Then one day I saw a bruise on your arm, I knew that probably wasn’t the only place you had them but I didn’t comment or pry because I knew it was a touchy subject. One thing I did do was offer you to stay at my house.

At first, you refused, said you had to get back home, but I insisted and you reluctantly agreed. You stayed at my house for a few days and then, out of nowhere, you left. You didn’t leave anything but I didn’t mind, as long as you were ok.

Come in and make yourself right at home

Stay as long as you need

I finally asked you, I didn’t mean to pry but you answered me. I sat there and listened like I always did. I didn’t speak, because I knew you knew me as put together. Because I was always by your side.

I offered to help you in any way possible. I was your emotional support after all. But I also helped you with other things. I would sacrifice myself for you. But you didn’t need to know that. Because I was always listening and never speaking.

Tell me, is something wrong?

If something's wrong, you can count on me

You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat

There were things that you still wouldn’t tell me. But I did the best I could to help you with everything else. I would take you out, maybe to buy necessities, because no one would do it with you. Maybe it was paying for meals, although you always insisted to pay, I would refuse.

I did it so you knew that everyone in the world was different. That not everybody was using you, that they genuinely cared. I did it to take the weight off your shoulders, although this added weight to mine, I would never tell you that because I was protecting you.

It's okay if you can't find the words

Let me take your coat

And this weight off of your shoulders

I would never tell you, but I would kill for you, or maybe I’d make peace with said person. I did it because I loved you. You didn’t see me as anything more than a best friend, a sibling perhaps. But it didn’t matter, as long as you were happy.

I loved you but I would never tell you because that’s not what you needed at the moment. I did it because I wanted to show you that I wasn’t getting anything out of this friendship.

Like a force to be reckoned with

A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss

I will love you with every single thing I have

Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess

Or calm waters, if that serves you best

I will love you without any strings attached

Sometimes you would come to me and you would start crying. I thought you were very strong for doing that because showing emotion was good. I was always there to comfort you. I knew that if I could take your place I would, with no regrets.

It's okay if you can't catch your breath

You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest

The more I took your walls down, the more I would build mine up because you didn’t need to know about my problems. I wanted to be there for you, not for me. I didn’t need to put more weight on your shoulders with my life.

I know exactly how the rule goes

Put my mask on first

No, I don't want to talk about myself

Tell me where it hurts

The more I was around you, the happier I saw you. Except for this time you looked genuinely happy. I wanted to build you up until you felt good about yourself. Until you could find your happiness with others and not just me.

Maybe when you were ok I would find that happiness for myself. But not until I was sure. 

I just want to build you up, build you up

'Til you're good as new

And maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too

I tried looking back at all the memories. At all the moments that we shared together. I also tried recalling all the times I saw you and shifted through my memories, hoping to see when you started feeling this way.

After the war was when you met Astoria. I wanted to love you, to hold your hand and make new memories with you. But everyone could clearly tell that you loved her. I saw the way you looked at her and I hoped that one day I could find someone to look at me the same way.

I don't even know where to start

Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart

I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well

I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself

I stood by your side as every year passed. I watched you fall in love and propose to her years later. When Astoria offered to make me a bridesmaid I was happy to accept because she truly was kind and caring enough. I knew that she was the right person for you.

I wanted to love you as something more. Someone might’ve beat me to it but as long as you were happy, I was too. I knew that I was lucky, to find you and be able to heal you enough so you could find love yourself.

When you asked me to give a speech at your wedding I was filled with honor. I was glad that you asked me because it proved how important I was to you.

Like a force to be reckoned with

A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss

I will love you without any strings attached

And what a privilege it is to love

A great honor to hold you up

“Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, take Astoria Charlotte Greengrass as your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

Like a force to be reckoned with

A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss

I will love you with every single thing I have

“I do.”

Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess

Or calm waters if that serves you best

“And do you, Astoria Charlotte Greengrass, take Draco Lucius Malfoy as your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?”

I will love you without any strings attached

“I do,”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride,” Draco pulled Astoria in for a kiss and I was by your side, smiling. It was a sad watery smile but I played it off as a smile of pure joy.

I was happy for you and I hope you knew that. I was there from the beginning and I was happy that I found you on time. I was happy that I was there through it all, through your times of happiness and through your times of sadness.

Standing here today, was the best feeling, because I knew I did a good job in protecting you. That was my only prize in our friendship, seeing you happy with everyone, but especially yourself.

At the reception, I saw you laughing and dancing, having the time of your life. Then it was finally time for speeches. I got up from my seat and grabbed the microphone.

“I wanted to congratulate you because both of you look so happy together. I can’t wait to see the many happy years that will come into your marriage. I wanted to thank you Draco for being there for me and you Astoria, for being there for him. I love the both of you so much and I’m glad to be able to now call you my sister Astoria.”

I will love you without a single string attached

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