#i also ate too many cadbury mini eggs so my stomach hurts

[cibeewastaken]

8th year fic were harry rubs draco's stomach for him cause it hurts a lot and he doesnt want to be around people? :3

“Is this an occurrence every year? Do you gorge yourself with Easter candies and cream-filled chocolate eggs? And I’ve never seen anyone but Ron and Ginny eat that much cake. Draco, you ate an entire cake, plus two bags of Cadbury Mini Eggs—”

“Oh my god,” Draco moaned into Harry’s neck. “Every word out of your mouth makes me want to puke.”

Harry adjusted his arm that was squeezed between the armrest and his head, leaning back further so Draco could lie on top of him. His other arm went around Draco’s waist and rested on the squishy tummy. Harry hadn’t known he would like it so much. The feeling of it underneath his palm made him slightly tender with how soft Draco’s body had gotten since the start of the year. 

“You’re being weird,” Draco mumbled.

“Just patting your chocolate baby.”

“Ugh, shut your face hole.” Draco groaned. Then louder since no one was in the common room to be disturbed. Despite the rainy day, everyone went out to the Quidditch game. Draco had been too sick to go, and in the rare show of selfless generosity, he had told Harry to go.

The thought of leaving never entered Harry’s mind.

“You’re missing Quidditch for me,” Draco had said miserably, face down on the sofa and complexion slightly green. “I don’t want you to miss Quidditch for me.”

Harry had sat down and arranged Draco’s head onto his lap. “I’ve been missing Quidditch for you since I was sixteen.”

And now there they were, on the sofa together. Harry gently rubbing Draco’s stomach as Draco made sad, sniffling sounds. Sounds that made Harry wanted to call him darling.

“You know who could help,” Harry started. 

“No,” Draco snapped. “No, no!”

But Harry never cared about Draco’s decisions when Draco was making bad decisions. “Dobby?”

Draco wailed loudly as Dobby popped up right next to their sofa. “Dobby, what do you use to do to help Draco when he’s like this?” Harry asked.

“Dobby is familiar with this state of Young Master Draco,” Dobby said.

“This has never happened before!” Draco screeched.

“Dobby is the expert,” Dobby told Harry. “Dobby used to make Young Master a cup of ginger tea! Especially on Easter Sunday, Easter Monday, Young Master’s birthday, Litha, Halloween, Christmas Eve, Yule, and—” 

“That’s enough!” Draco said. 

“Young Master Draco shouldn’t talk to Dobby like that, not when Dobby still has pictures of Young Master Draco dressed up as a unicorn when—”

“That’s enough!” Draco said again, now very clearly panicking.

Harry was halfway off the sofa and on the carpet laughing. Draco pinched Harry’s thigh, but Harry only yelped a little and continued to laugh. Then Draco started moaning about the unfairness and disrespect of some people, how he was in pain, anguish! Horror! And his boyfriend would rather scoff at him than make him feel better, the injustice—! 

Dobby Disapparated back to the kitchen and started on the tea when it was clear that Harry Potter and Young Master Draco had forgotten about him and everything else once again. Dobby also made some hearty vegetable broth. Something savory always made Draco feel better when he ate himself into tummy aches. 

Harry had stopped laughing and Draco had stopped whining when Dobby popped back into the Eighth Year common room. Instead, they were now on the carpet together; Harry pressing soft kisses repeatedly to the corner of Draco’s smile. Harry’s palm, back on Draco’s stomach, circling gently.

“I’ll know to stop you from eating too many sweets in the future,” Harry said into his kisses.

“I like to see you try,” Draco said. He looked as though Harry was making Draco sore from love.

Dobby quietly placed the tray of food just beside the fireplace and sneaked away.