Content: Fluff, First Dates, Jogger Harry, Attorney Draco
Warnings: a sentence about tattoos and scars
Summary:
your heart melts into my cup
it tastes like warm honey
draco runs into harry at a park. dates, love, and smiles ensue
Read it now on AO3!
🌞 This work is part of H/D Summer Vibes, a Gay Wizard Boys server gift exchange. Please help spread the love by sharing your favourite works and leaving kudos and comments. If you would like to join the GWB, you can do so with this link: here.
It's only Thursday and I've painted you three times this week, even my art teacher is tired of me painting you but I can't resist my brush when I see you sitting in the cafe across reading the abridged version's of Shakespeare because you enjoy reading but you're not particularly fond of Shakespeare. I've painted you in your red sweater, your white sweater and your leather jacket, I think all of it is very contrasting but I wish to see you in green, but you never wear green, you never do. I hope to give you all of these paintings one day, maybe then I won't be so afraid of confessing my feelings for you, Maybe then through my art I could say " this is how I see you " or " I tried painting you in different Angles but all your Angles are great" and then maybe you could blush and ask me for a cup of coffee but you've never even spared a glance at me when I'm painting, I wish you would.
I think we should call it fate or maybe you had already planned but when on the very next Friday you crossed me through the street and I had almost assumed you weren't going to say anything, you did.
" you live across me now, is that right ?"
I nodded.
You smiled at me " a cup of coffee ? I was about to go to the cafe ?"
I nodded cheerfully and we went to the same cafe you go to every day and ordered your two specials and Involved me in a interesting conversation about Julius Caesar but I had no idea what you were talking about Because I was busy painting you in my head.
It was like moments Switch when you realised I was only watching and listening less when you asked "how did your painting turn out yesterday ?"
There was a knowing smile on your face as if it was secret only you and I knew and I blushed, I wish I didn't but you were so irresistible. I couldn't reply, I couldn't because nothing coherent framed in my brain. Little did you know about how I was painting you but the way you knew I was painting made a garden of flowers grow inside my chest.
" how do you know I paint ?"
" I see you cross me to get there everyday except Friday's "
Friday was today.
You knew I thought, you knew, all this time.
" Maybe one day I'd let you see my paintings" I sipped my coffee
" maybe one day you could paint me " he suggestively smiled.
Your mischievous smile said it all, oh how you knew.
" maybe one day you'd wear green "
You wore green the next day and you asked me for a coffee again and this time instead of you talking about Shakespeare you let me talk about the different types of varnish brings out a different glow in the painting and how my favourite brand of paints was ' aquarelle' an old set from my mother's collection that were no longer sold and you listened gracefully, like I was singing a lullaby.
That night when you walked me home, and when you looked at me for a minute longer than one, I knew you were painting me in your head and I was painting you in mind and I sort of liked it. I sort of liked thinking that we were painting each other only your painting was a painting in words, or framing me in one of the characters from Shakespearean plays and I was painting you in my head with soft strokes of just right colour of tan and your green sweater which unknowningly I had started loving too much.
Then just suddenly you gave me a very charming smile, the one that was so hard to resist and you whispered " good night, draco" and you kissed me on my forehead and i liked how you kissed my forehead rather than on the lips and it was more intimate than the kiss you might press against my lips but I think if you had, I wouldn't had been able to control myself. And then you went into your own apartment watching me as I Walked into mine with a smile that failed to dissolve.
Most days, his students were calm and quiet even, except for today. No, today, they were loud with their whispers, loud with their giggles and obvious with their stares.
“Okay,” Harry said after two boys near the front burst into muffled laughter when he walked by. “What’s gotten into all of you? Do I have something on me?” He knew he didn’t. After ten minutes of their behaviour he had looked in a mirror, but still, there had to be something that set them off.
As one, the class collectively turned towards Scorpius who slid lower in his seat in an attempt to hide.
“Scorpius,” he said, tone suspicious as his eyes narrowed. “Would you happen to know what’s going on?”
Scorpius shook his head quickly as a small squeak left his mouth before he pressed his lips together tightly.
“That’s not true,” Fitzwilliam argued as he stuck his tongue out at Scorpius, who narrowed his eyes. “Scorpius said you and Mister Malfoy are getting married.”
“I did not!” Scorpius yelled as his fingers clutched the edge of his desk. “I said they could.”
Harry closed his eyes as they continued to bicker. He hadn’t even gone his date with Draco yet and it had already been blown out of proportion.
The five-minute warning bell went off and everyone began to collect their things and put away any class materials. Harry had to talk over the commotion to make sure he was heard.
“For your homework tonight,” he ignored several groans. “I want a paragraph on what you look forward to the most for the upcoming holidays, and you must illustrate it as well. I don’t care what you draw, but I will be hanging them up on the wall.”
“Like a decoration?” Mark Abbot asked as he clapped his hands in excitement. “I’m going to draw my cat!”
“I’m going to draw my mum’s apple trees!” Fitzwilliam added as he helped Mark clean up.
Harry grinned when they continued to talk about his cat all the way to the door to wait for his parents. Most students were hard to make out due to the puffy jackets as the autumn weather was soon to turn into winter. He turned in time to see Scorpius try to walk by him half crouched and a hand covering the left side of his face as if that would hide him.
Hello there! I went through a bad streak of inspiration but the planets were realigned and I’ve been working on this illustration since last night. I’m trying to implement some texture (noise) in the final artwork but I’m still not very convinced about it… What do you think? After my last illustration of Harry and Draco as adults, I wanted so bad to draw them a little younger so here they are! I have to confess that I totally regretted drawing the bookshelf, I HATE drawing backgrounds so much, srly. Btw, I decided to start posting my illustrations on Instagram (@cuckooboo_) but I haven’t posted anything yet because I’m trying to organize everything (hopefully this week I’ll start posting there). I hope to see you there!
Love, Cuckooboo.
Rita Skeeter reports a new couple alert! Pansy Parkinson looked very cozy with the infamous Holyhead Harpies chaser, Ginevra Weasley, at the charity match yesterday afternoon. Who knew snakes were fond of lions?
“One might believe,” Headteacher McGonagall pronounced, her eyes roving over Draco and Harry, “that you might have approached your eighth year with a better attitude! Fighting like first years! I can only hope that a graveyard shift stacking books in the library will teach you a modicum of sense!”
The witch gave them a final glare and stalked from the room.
“She’s finally gone,” Harry said, closing the gap between himself and Draco. He pressed a kiss onto the other man’s lips and slipped his hand beneath his robes.
“Merlin only knows,” Harry answered, unfastening Draco’s belt and pushing it to the ground. “Now, can I please suck your cock? I’ve been daydreaming about it since Charms class.”
📚📚📚
Based on the @drarrymicrofic prompt of: graveyard.
Two sapphics out on the town and fallin in love for @caroll-in! Happy birthday darling, your talent and kindness never fails to make me smile, and I hope this gives you a little smile in return 💓✨
"Teddy!" Harry called as he opened the door to Andromeda's, long past the formality of knocking before entering. "It's your favorite uncle!" he called.
"Unca Draco!" shrieked the little voice as the toddler came running to the door, giggles pealing out of his mouth.
Harry shook his head at the little boy whose hair had turned itself black before he'd even entered the room, giving away his fun. "Uncle Draco?" Harry asked with mock outrage. "Uncle Draco?!" He scooped up the giggling boy, tickling him until he burst into shrieking, hysterical giggles.
After a moment he set the boy back on his feet and said, "Well, I guess if Uncle Draco's your favorite, I'll save this," he said, dangling a little sweet he'd picked up on the way, "for my own favorite nephew."
His eyes went wide and he smiled at Harry, that big, innocent smile that made Harry breathless and somehow sad all at once. "Just joking," he informed Harry. "You're both my favorite."
Harry pretended to consider that for a moment, then caved. "Alright," he said, "I guess you're my favorite, too," he added with a wink, handing over the treat. "Go ask nana if it's okay for you to have it now."
"Nana," he bellowed, racing away once more.
Harry shook his head.
"He always eventually caves and says I'm his favorite when I bring him a treat," a voice informed him. Not just a voice, Harry supposed, that voice. The voice that found its way into dreams, that he found interrupting his thoughts during the day.
(More below the cut)
Harry stood up quickly, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed that they'd had an audience. "Yes, well," he replied, mouth a bit dry suddenly as he took in Draco's appearance; tight jeans and a loose (yet somehow flattering) tshirt that left part of his collarbones exposed. He was barefoot, shoes and socks abandoned completely, his ankles peaking out just below the cuff of his jeans. There was something about Draco barefoot that made Harry ache with longing.
"Admitting defeat so easily?" Draco asked, smirking.
"You know," Harry said, forcing his brain and his mouth to start working once more, "You could be nicer to me, at least today."
"And why would that be?" the other man teased, his smile warm in a way Harry never would have imagined it could be when they were younger.
"It is my birthday," Harry replied.
Draco took another step toward him, "Is it really? I had no idea. Is that why you bought Teddy a present?"
He rolled his eyes, "Well I wasn't going to buy myself a present." he replied.
"Why not?" he asked. "I always buy myself a birthday present. Birthday presents are important."
"What did you get me then? If birthday presents are so important?" he teased, refusing to think about all of the times he'd tried to tell himself just the opposite as a child and teenager.
Draco just grinned at him, "I guess you'll have to wait and see."
Andromeda called them a few moments later, telling them to come to dinner. Dinner was light and fun, full of good natured teasing and a bit of bickering. Andromeda made his favorites and Teddy filled all of the silent spaces, filled all of the holes and sadness that Harry still struggled with sometimes.
There was cake and then presents; Teddy gave him a lovely (messy) painting of the two of them holding hands and Harry knew he was going to frame it to bring to work to hang on his wall. Andromeda gave him a new pair of gloves to wear when he went out flying. Then last came a package that Draco handed over a bit shyly.
Harry smiled in spite of himself, "You didn't have to-"
"I wanted to," Draco assured him before he could finish that thought.
He peeled back the brown paper to find a candle within the wrappings. Harry opened the lid and sniffed; it smelled like fresh air and sunshine, like the handle of a broom stick, like the pages of magic books, and just a little like strawberries. A memory of taking Teddy out flying one afternoon with Draco sprang to mind.
"I made it myself," Draco said before Harry could get the full memory to play out so he could figure out why it made him think of Draco.
"It's such an interesting smell," Harry said, smiling faintly as he held it up to sniff it again. "What is it?"
Draco shrugged one irritatingly elegant shoulder, "You tell me."
"I hate tests," he said before sniffing and saying, "It smells like summer. Like open windows and sunshine. It smells like the handle of a freshly polished broom. A bit like books," he added. "Maybe a little bit like freshly picked strawberries?"
The other man's brow furrowed, "Interesting," he said.
"What was it supposed to smell like?"
Draco said nothing, but pulled a notebook out of his pocket to jot down Harry's answers.
"Alright, young man," Andromeda said and Harry jumped to attention before realizing she was talking to Teddy. "It's past your bed time."
Teddy groaned, "Just a little longer?"
"Not one moment more," she replied steadily.
"Can Unca Harry and Unca Draco come up?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.
Harry followed after Teddy and Draco followed after him. They'd done this before, many times at this point, in fact. They had the routine down; Draco got out his pajamas while Harry helped him brush his teeth, then Harry picked out a book while Draco helped him change into pajamas, Harry read a book while Draco dimmed the lights, then Draco sang him a song.
It went perfectly smoothly, as though they'd been doing this for years. And in fairness, they had been, Harry supposed. When they finished with everything Teddy held out his arms to Draco, "Huggie and nose kissies."
Draco obliged him, "Good night, Teddy."
"Nigh-Night," he replied, before reaching for Harry.
Harry bent over him and gave him a hug and brushed his nose back and forth across Teddy's a few times. "Good night, sweetpea, Uncle Harry loves you," he whispered.
"Love you," Teddy replied. "Happy Birthday."
"Thank you," Harry replied, feeling a little misty eyed as he pulled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? We'll go have lunch at the park."
"Unca Draco, too?" he asked.
"Yeah, Uncle Draco, too, if he's free."
"Oh, I suppose I could squeeze you two in," he replied, giving Harry's arm a gentle tug toward the door.
"Sleep tight, bug," Harry called, casting a few floating baubles of dim light over Teddy's bed before following Draco out of the room.
They headed downstairs and Harry said, "Well, sorry I can't stay to chat. I'm supposed to meet Ron and Hermione for a celebratory pint. Ginny's over at theirs, hanging out in case Rose wakes up."
"Yes," Draco said, "And I've still got some work to finish up at home."
"Oh," Harry said, frowning at him, "I was going to see if you wanted to join us."
He shook his head, "Weasley doesn't really-"
"But it's my birthday," Harry interrupted.
"It is," Andromeda agreed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Draco you should go out. You're too entrenched in your work." She kissed his cheek too, "You boys get out and enjoy yourselves."
"I'll walk you out," Draco offered and Harry really wished he'd change his mind.
When they got outside onto the top step, Draco hummed, "Well, Happy Birthday, Harry."
"Thanks," he said, "Are you sure you can't-"
"Did the candle remind you of anyone?" Draco asked suddenly, interrupting Harry's thoughts.
Harry frowned, "Only you," he said. He looked up, catching Draco's gaze, he repeated, "I only thought of you."
Draco stepped forward suddenly, crowding into Harry's personal space to place a hasty kiss on Harry's lips. He backpedaled quickly and started do the stairs.
Harry only barely caught him before he got away down the steps.
"Where are you-? What do you-?" Harry managed, unable to form a coherent thought, before he pulled Draco back into him and returned the kiss. "Don't run," Harry whispered before pressing his lips to Draco's again.
"Harry," the other man murmured, melting against him and wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders.
They kissed for a long moment and Harry was flying, lighter and freer than he could remember being in years. He pressed Draco back against the wall and stroked his hands slowly up and down his sides. At this point, Harry never wanted the kiss to end.
But the couldn't kiss forever and Draco pulled back eventually and said, "You should know I cheated."
"Sorry?" Harry asked, still far more focused on the way Draco's lips had felt on his and on the way Draco's lips turned cherry red when they'd been kissed.
"The candle," he elabroated. "There's a little bit of amortentia in it, so it-"
"Smells like the person I love," Harry finished.
Draco flushed but nodded.
Harry thought about this for a moment, wondering if he should be mad but unable to feel anything except giddy that the other man had kissed him. "If you didn't love me too, I'd be pissed."
The other man leaned in close and brushed his nose over Harry's, "I had to be sure," he whispered.
"I'm sure," Harry assured, pulling Draco in to kiss him once more.
He was late to meet Ron and Hermione at the pub, but the hand he clasped tightly in his was more than worth the teasing he got for being late.
When he left the Wizarding World, Harry hadn't thought too much about what would happen to Draco Malfoy after he testified for him at his trial.
If pressed, he probably would have assumed that Malfoy would have continued in his father's footsteps. He would have imagined well tailored suits and robes, long blonde hair, the same aristocratic nose tipped in the air.
So, perhaps his jaw all but hitting the floor when he saw the other man for the first time in five years was understandable.
And it wasn't the fact that he was walking into the muggle bar that Harry worked at that shocked him, it was the fact that Malfoy had trimmed his hair short on the sides and left the top long; it was that he'd dyed it hot pink.
It was the fact that his left arm had a muggle tattoo covering the dark mark that had once been there with beautiful, bright flowers; new life coming out of death. It was the dragon tattoo peaking out of the collar of his shirt, that Harry guessed, was shaped around his namesake constellation.
It was the loose, black v-neck, muggle t-shirt tucked into skinny jeans that were cuffed just above his ankles. And the three earrings in the cartilage at the top of his right ear.
It was that he looked nothing like the stiff, tidy, pretentious twat that Harry would have envisioned him growing into and it made Harry wonder what else he was wrong about.
Malfoy caught sight of him a few second later and literally froze in place.
"What can I get you?" Harry asked, giving him a little smile.
"Sorry," Malfoy said, cocking his head uncertainly, "You look like someone I used to know."
(Read more below the cut)
And that was fair, too, Harry supposed. He didn't look anything like the scrawny, desperate teen he'd been the last time Malfoy saw him, either. Harry had grown a good six inches since then, his shoulders had filled out, he'd grown his hair long because the curls were less messy that way, he'd grown a beard that he kept short and tidy, and he had a few tattoos of his own. "You look like someone I used to know, too," he replied, "But you can't possibly be the same person that I thought I knew and I'm sure that I'm not quite what you thought either." He tilted his head at Malfoy, "What can I get you?" he repeated.
"What would you recommend?" Malfoy asked as he slid into a bar stool with a touch more caution than Harry liked.
"Do you like sweet drinks?" he asked, "I have this cotton candy drink that we make with cranberry juice and raspberry vodka," then he added, "And cotton candy, obviously."
"That would definitely be something I've never tried before," Malfoy replied with a little smile.
"Done." While Harry was making the drink he said, "So what brings you so far from home?"
Malfoy cocked his head, "I left home ages ago," he said. "Disowned, as a matter of fact."
Harry frowned as he reached under the bar to fetch the cotton candy, "What? Why?"
Harry saw him lift one shoulder casually before having to stick his head into the cupboard below to reach the bag of cotton candy in the back, "Apparently, Malfoys are allowed to make all sorts of mistakes and commit all sorts of atrocities, but being gay was just one step too far for them."
Harry bashed the back of his head against the bar in his haste to stand up, "Wait, you're-?" he started before registering just how badly that had hurt, "Ouch, fuck," he said, rubbing the back of his skull.
"Here," Malfoy murmured, holding out his hand, "Let me."
Harry leaned over and Malfoy gently cupped the back of his head and murmured something under his breath. A moment later a warm, tingly feeling suffused Harry's head and all of the pain disappeared.
"Wow," Harry said, rubbing the back of his skull again and feeling for any tender spots, "That was amazing."
Malfoy shrugged and Harry went back to working on the drink. "I was training to be a healer," he confessed softly so no one would overhear, "But then I had one too many people refuse to let me help them because of-" he broke off and shook his head, "Well you know."
"I'm sorry that happened to you," Harry said with a frown as he slid the drink across the bar. He was about to say more when Ben, one of his regulars, came up to the bar for a refill, "Hold that thought," he said, making his way over to get him another bourbon.
"This," Malfoy said, pointing to the drink Harry had made him when he returned a few minutes later, "Is actually quite tasty, Potter."
He laughed, "No need for the tone of surprise, this has been my job for nearly five years now. And you can call me, Harry," he added.
The corner of Draco's mouth tilted up, "Oh I can, can I?"
Harry nodded, "And I think I'll be calling you Draco."
"Bold of you," he said but he was smiling so Harry didn't take him too seriously.
"Gryffindor," he replied, pointing to himself with a wink. "So tell me about yourself, Draco," he said.
And to his surprise and utter delight, Draco did. He sat at the bar, sipping that martini before switching over to lemonade, all evening, telling Harry about his life and asking questions about Harry in turn.
One things led to another and by the time Harry was getting ready to leave, Harry was really not ready for the night to end.
"Can I walk you home?" Draco asked, apparently he wasn't ready for it to end either.
Harry smiled at him and nodded toward his house, they set off down the street talking about nothing. He only lived a few blocks away and they found themselves standing at the bottom of Harry's steps all too soon.
"Will you punch me if I kiss you?" Draco asked him.
Harry shook his head with a smile he couldn't quite hide, and leaned forward to meet Draco halfway. The moment their lips met, Harry's veins felt like they'd been set on fire. He reached out and clasped the fabric of Draco's t-shirt in his hands and pulled him forward, crashing their bodies together.
The other man gave him a breathless little smile and Harry dragged him up the stairs and straight to the bedroom.
Afterward, Harry got up to order them some pizza and when he returned, Draco was laid on his back on the bed, his pink hair fanned out across the pillow, Harry couldn't help but think that his body looked more gorgeous than any work of art he'd ever seen. And Harry sat up beside him admire him better, "I thought this one was your constellation," he murmured triumphantly, stroking his fingers over the dragon that curled over his collarbone and up his neck.
"Well spotted," Draco said, a smile in his voice.
He brushed his fingers over the snitch on Draco's chest, "I've got one of these, too," he murmured, leaning a bit so Draco can see the snitch he has on his own hip.
"Yes, I noticed," Draco replied, giving him a little smirk, "What does it say under it?"
"I open at the close," Harry said.
Draco hummed, "You'll have to tell me the story sometime."
"I'd like that," Harry told him, surprised to find that it was true since he'd never wanted to talk to anyone about the war. He trailed his fingers over the flower that had been tattooed over Draco's heart. "For your mum?" he asked.
He gave him a sad smile and nodded, "The black narcissus."
"These are for my parents," he told him, pointing to the antlers adorned with lilies along his collarbones.
"What are these ones?" he asked, trailing his fingers over the Marauder's map style footprints on his bicep and shoulder.
"These," he said, twisting to show Draco that they wrapped around his shoulder and onto his back, "are names of the people who have held me up, some of them still living, and others who live on in me." He grinned at him, "I'll show you the map they're modeled after the next time I have it out."
"Do you have any others?"
"Yeah," Harry said, collapsing onto his back so he could show Draco his ankle, "Deathly Hallows on my ankle."
Draco's fingers brushed lightly over his skin and Harry's spine tingled pleasantly.
"Do you have others?" he echoed
He nodded and rolled over onto his stomach and Harry had to hold back a gasp, "Beautiful," he whispered, trailing his fingers lightly over the wings covering Draco's shoulder blades.
"They're to remind me that I am free. I made my choice to fly instead of staying shackled."
"They're beautiful," Harry repeated.
Draco reached back and pointed to his neck and Harry's eyes followed to a compass. "To remind me that I choose the direction of my life from here on out."
"I love that," Harry replied, flopping back down on the bed next to Draco. "I'm planning my next one."
"Oh?" Draco asked, turning his head to the side and resting it on his forearms so he could look at Harry.
Harry nodded, "A constellation as well, Sirius, and wolfsbane incorporated somehow."
"Are all of yours for people, then?"
"Yeah," he replied, about to say more when the doorbell rang. "That'll be the pizza. Do you want to eat in here or in the kitchen?" he asked as he stood up and started looking for a pair of pants to put on to answer the door
"I should go-"
"Draco," he said, leaning in and stealing another kiss, "Stay. Please."
"For how long?" Draco asked.
The doorbell rang again and Harry stumbled into his boxers, "For as long as you want. Stay forever if you like."
And he was surprised to find that he was only half joking.
Written for the @drarrymicrofic prompt, Love Letters (and Laugh, from last month)
They’d been dating for exactly two months before Draco admitted that he’d written the god-awful love poem of Harry’s second year.
”I was going through an artistic phase! I was twelve!”
”You—“ here Harry had to pause because he was laughing too hard — “You compared my eyes—“ he wheezed— “To toads! Pickled ones!”
“Fresh pickled toads are important and rare potions ingredients! They’re used in inner beauty potions! It’s romantic!”
”Draco, who even—“ Harry giggled — “Who even knows about inner beauty potions?! How and why did you know about inner beauty potions at twelve?”
Draco flushed a brilliant red, and Harry thought he had never looked more adorable. Or, he would have thought that if he‘d had any brain-space left to do anything but laugh.
”Oh, laugh it up, Chosen One. You thought Ginevra Weasley wrote that! No one on the Light side called Voldemort the Dark Lord!”
”Draco, you said Ginny wrote that!“
Draco sniffed. “Classic diversionary tactics. I couldn’t let you know your nemesis had written it, after all, could I have?”
”Di— Divers-“ Harry dissolved into laughter, making one last valiant attempt at speaking. “Diversionary tactics? We were in second year!”
“I was a very advanced child,” Draco said, crossing his arms. ”Unlike you, I might add. Have you aged at all past seven?” Draco tried to sneer, but his lips betrayed his smile.
As a creature, Severus has long known he will need to bond with his mate or face being made a slave to the whole of wizardkind. For Harry, the news is a shock made more difficult by the awakening of uncomfortable desires.
Raised in a Muggle orphanage, Harry arrives at Hogwarts a bitter boy. Unusually intelligent, he's recruited by the Unspeakables and the Death Eaters at a young age. As he grows older, he constantly has to struggle to keep his footing around a manipulative and bored Dark Lord, who fancies mind games and intellectual entertainment.
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