Beautifully Broken People

I write Harry Potter Fanfiction, check me out on AO3!

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

And Then There Were Seven

For three weeks, their home had been a symphony of suffering. Harry retched over the toilet at dawn. Draco followed suit by noon. They took turns with Pepperup Potion, but the "steam coming out of their ears" phase only made them both dizzy and nauseous.

"It's a stomach flu," Harry groaned from their bed, one hand pressed to his abdomen. "A really, really persistent one."

"Clearly magical," Draco sniffed, pale and sweaty beside him. "Probably something you brought home from the Auror office. Your colleagues are filthy."

"You're the one who ate dodgy oysters at Blaise's dinner party."

They glared at each other through bloodshot eyes.

The healer at St. Mungo's examined them with practiced efficiency, waving her wand over Harry first, then Draco, her eyebrows climbing steadily toward her hairline.

"Well," she said, lips twitching. "Congratulations, Harry. Draco. You're both pregnant. Three months along, roughly. Same conception window, by the looks of it."

The silence was absolute.

"Both?" Harry squeaked.

"Pregnant?" Draco shrieked.

They turned to each other, identical expressions of horror dawning simultaneously.

"This is your fault!" they accused in unison.

"You said that experimental potion was safe!"

"You were the one who brewed it wrong!"

"You drank half of it yourself!"

"YOU MIXED IT WITH FIREWHISKY!"

The healer cleared her throat. "If I might interrupt—twins, Draco. And Harry, you're carrying triplets."

They stared at her. Then at each other.

"Triplets," Harry whispered.

"Twins," Draco breathed.

"Five children," Harry said stunned, voice trembling.

Draco's hand found Harry's. Their fingers intertwined, shaking.

"We'll need a bigger nursery," Harry said slowly.

"And a nanny. Several nannies."

"And names. Merlin, we need so many names."

Draco's pale face cracked into something radiant, terrified and luminous all at once. "We're going to be dads."

Harry laughed, the sound wet and wonderful. "Yeah. We really are."

They kissed, still clammy, still nauseous, and absolutely, deliriously happy.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

New Fic: His Little Lion

Chapter 1/22 posted now on AO3!

This fic is complete and new chapters will be posted every Monday, Wenesday, and Friday.

Click Here to check it out now!

Summary: When the weight of being the wizarding world's savior finally shatters him, Harry Potter discovers that the only way to survive is to stop fighting and learn how to kneel for the one enemy who sees the man beneath the myth.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Pureblood in a Plastic Boat

"The Muggles have invented a sport," Draco said, arms crossed, staring at the technicolor plastic boats bobbing in the chlorinated pool, "where the objective is deliberate collision. In water. Potter, I have never been more concerned for the survival of your species."

Harry just grinned, rocking back on his heels. "You love it."

"I distinctly recall saying no such thing."

"You will." Harry pressed a ticket into Draco's hand, his fingers lingering. "Come on. Live a little."

Draco sniffed, but followed.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment.

"EAT PAVEMENT, POTTER!" Draco shrieked, his hair wild, his eyes manic, his bumper boat surging through the water with the singular purpose of a heat-seeking missile. He slammed into Harry's stern with enough force to spin him in a complete circle.

Harry's head snapped back, laughing helplessly. "Merlin's Draco, where did you learn to drive?"

"Natural talent!" Draco crowed, reversing with alarming skill and ramming Harry again. "Also, I may have confunded the attendant into giving me the boat with the superior torque!"

"You what—"

"LOOK OUT, LOVE, I'M COMING AROUND YOUR PORT SIDE!"

He was relentless. Harry tried to flee, steering frantically, but Draco was a blond shark in a yellow plastic hull. Every time Harry gained distance, Draco would appear from behind a fountain or a fake rock, cackling, his face flushed with unholy glee.

"Your seamanship is atrocious, Potter!"

"I wasn't aware this required seamanship."

"Everything requires seamanship!"

Harry laughed until his ribs ached, until he was dizzy with it, until the attendant's whistle blew and Draco actually whined, "Already?" with such genuine disappointment that Harry's heart did something traitorous and warm.

"Time's up, gentlemen!"

Harry climbed out easily, still chuckling, wiping water from his face. He turned to offer Draco a hand. Draco stood in his boat, nose in the air, preparing to disembark with dignity.

The boat, traitorous thing, drifted six inches from the wall.

Draco stepped into empty air.

He dropped like a stone.

For a moment, there was only the sound of a loud splash. Then…"Potter!"

Harry peered over the edge. Draco was standing in the water, submerged to his neck, his hair plastered flat, his expression one of such profound, dripping indignity that Harry felt his knees buckle.

"Potter," Draco repeated, his voice rising to a shriek. "I am neck deep! I am drenched! I am humiliated! Stop laughing!"

Harry couldn't. He was doubled over, hands on his knees, tears streaming down his face, making sounds that were only vaguely human.

"Sir," the attendant said, trying not to smile. "Sir, please stop thrashing, you're making it worse."

"I am not thrashing, I am attempting to find purchase! Potter, if you do not cease that unholy cackling I will—oh, for the love of—"

The attendant lowered a plastic chair into the water. Draco had to climb onto it, soaking wet, his expensive robes clinging to him like a second skin, water pouring from his sleeves. He looked like an angry, bedraggled cat.

He stepped onto the concrete and advanced on Harry with murder in his eyes.

"You," he hissed, "will pay for this indignity."

"You're just wet," Harry gasped out.

"I am aware! I am also mortified and cold and I smell of chlorine and defeat!"

Harry, still snickering, took his hand and pulled him away from the crowd, around the corner of the equipment shed where it was quiet and secluded and the afternoon sun fell in warm stripes.

"You're ridiculous," Harry said, fond.

"I hate you."

"You had fun."

"I had fun," Draco spat, "until I became a submarine."

Harry pulled out his wand. "Siccus."

The water evaporated from Draco's clothes in a warm rush, steam rising around them. Draco's hair fluffed back to its usual impossible volume. He stopped shivering.

Harry stepped closer, close enough to feel Draco's breath against his chin. "Admit it," he murmured. "Best date ever."

Draco's mouth twitched. He looked at the bumper boats, now empty and bobbing peacefully. He thought of the chase, the collision, the wild laughter. He sighed, the sound full of reluctant warmth.

"...Yes, alright," he muttered. "But I'm choosing next time. And it will involve dry land. And dignity."

Harry kissed his damp nose. "Wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart."

Draco huffed, but his hand found Harry's, and he didn't let go.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Inseparable

They daycare was a converted townhouse in Godric's Hollow, all primary colors and magical childproofing. Narcissa Malfoy swept through the door with the precision of a woman who had never once in her life been late, her heels clicking against the enchanted rubber flooring. She was not pleased to see Lily Potter already there, red hair like a banner, laughing with the attendant witch.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Lily said, her smile tightening at the edges. She shifted her bag—canvas, Muggle, dreadful—and nodded once. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Mrs. Potter," Narcissa returned, barely inclining her head. She did not remove her gloves. "I trust the boys had a productive afternoon."

"Productive," the attendant said, her voice oddly strangled, "is one word for it."

She led them to the nap room, and Narcissa felt her carefully cultivated composure crack straight down the middle.

There, on the tiny cot meant for single occupancy, were their sons. Twisted together like roots, limbs tangled, cheeks flushed with sleep. Draco's blond head was tucked beneath Harry's chin, and—Merlin preserve her—Draco had Harry's thumb lodged securely in his mouth, sucking softly in his sleep. Harry's other arm was wrapped around Draco's waist, holding him like treasure.

"They refused separate cots," the attendant whispered, as if louder noise might shatter something precious. "Screamed the place down. This was the only way they'd settle."

Lily made a small sound. Narcissa pretended not to hear it.

"They've been inseparable all month," the attendant continued, apparently determined to professionally destroy them both. "Sharing toys. Trading snacks. Draco bit another child for trying to take Harry's blocks."

"Draco bit someone?" Narcissa asked, horrified and, traitorously, a little proud.

"He was defending Harry," the attendant said, as if this explained everything.

Narcissa looked at Lily. Lily looked at Narcissa. Something complicated passed between them; old houses, older grudges, blood and bone and the weight of what their sons might inherit.

Then Lily stepped forward, gentle as summer, and began the careful work of unwinding Harry's arm from Draco's waist.

"Come on, love," she murmured.

Harry stirred, his thumb slipping from Draco's mouth with a soft pop. Both boys' eyes fluttered open.

Draco's face crumpled first. "No," he wailed, reaching pudgy hands toward Harry. "No, no, no."

"Shh, Draco, darling." Narcissa tried lifting him, but he arched his back, rigid with fury.

Harry was worse. The moment Lily had him upright, he began to struggle, fat tears spilling down his cheeks, his arms outstretched toward Draco. "No day day!" he sobbed, the words half-formed, desperate. "No day day! Daco! Daco!"

"Hawwy!" Draco screamed, kicking against Narcissa's hold, his usually perfect hair standing in every direction. "Hawwy! Mine!"

They reached for each other across the gap, fingers straining, faces red with grief.

Narcissa felt something in her chest shift, a tectonic plate of long-held certainty grinding to a new position. She looked at Lily, and saw the same fracture, the same reorganization.

"Mrs. Potter," Narcissa said, her voice steadier than she felt. She adjusted her grip on Draco, who was now hiccupping against her shoulder, still reaching backward. "I find myself in possession of an excellent Earl Grey. And a garden that accommodates children... adequately."

Lily, bouncing Harry, who had buried his face in her neck and was crying in earnest now, raised an eyebrow.

"Tea," Narcissa clarified. "Tomorrow. So they might... play. Properly. Without the biting."

Lily was quiet for a long moment. Harry's small hand had found her hair and was gripping tight, still whimpering "Daco, Daco" into her skin.

"Three o'clock," Lily said finally. "I'll bring biscuits. The ones Harry likes. Apparently he shares them."

Narcissa felt Draco go limp against her, exhausted by his own tantrum, his breathing evening out into shuddering sighs. She risked a glance at Harry, who had peeked one wet eye out to watch them, his lower lip trembling.

"Three o'clock," Narcissa agreed. "And Mrs. Potter?"

"Yes?"

"Draco will want his thumb back."

Lily laughed, surprised and real, and for the first time, Narcissa thought she might not entirely mind the sound.

"Tomorrow, then," Lily said, and shifted Harry so he could see Draco one last time. The boys locked eyes, and Harry's tears slowed, replaced by a tremulous smile.

Draco waved, small and solemn.

"Tomorrow," Narcissa agreed, and found that she was waving too.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Fic Complete: In Sickness And In Health

Chapter 4/4 now posted on AO3, Click Here to check it out!

Summary: When Auror James Potter finds himself hunting a killer targeting werewolves, his orderly life turns into beautiful and terrifying chaos.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

My Love, My Darling, My Sweetheart

"Potter," Draco snapped from the bedroom, his voice carrying that particular edge that meant Harry had approximately thirty seconds to comply or face theatrical suffering.

Harry appeared in the doorway, still holding his wand from where he'd been repairing the kitchen cabinet. "Yes, darling?"

Draco was propped against approximately seven pillows, his swollen belly rising like a moon under his silk pajamas, his lower lip already jutting out in preparation. "I need ice cream. But not that awful Muggle kind from the fridge. I want the one from Fortescue's. The lavender-honey with the crystallized violets. And I need it now, Harry, the baby is very specific about wanting it now."

"Yes, love," Harry said immediately, already reaching for his cloak. "Lavender-honey with crystallized violets. Anything else?"

"Pickles," Draco said, counting on his fingers. "The spicy ones from that shop in Diagon. And…" he paused, his silver eyes narrowing as if receiving divine instruction from his own stomach, "A new pillow. This one has gone flat. I can feel it mocking me."

"Yes, sweetheart," Harry said, leaning in to kiss Draco's forehead, then his nose, then the bump of their child beneath Draco's hand. "Fortescue's, spicy pickles, and a pillow that knows its place. Back in twenty minutes."

"Fifteen," Draco corrected, already closing his eyes. "The baby says fifteen."

"Fifteen," Harry agreed, and apparated.

He returned in twelve minutes, slightly breathless, with the ice cream charmed against melting, the pickles in a jar that clinked against his buttons as he climbed the stairs, and a goose-down pillow that had cost more than his first broomstick but was, according to the saleswitch, "guaranteed to cradle a prince."

Draco sat up when he entered, his face softening at the sight of Harry's windblown hair and the ice cream already being scooped into a crystal bowl. "You ran," he observed.

"For you? Always," Harry said, settling onto the edge of the bed and holding out the first spoonful.

Draco accepted it, humming happily, and Harry felt his heart do that dangerous, foolish thing it had been doing since the war ended and he'd realized that Draco Malfoy's sharp edges were actually just armor, and that underneath, he was soft as treacle and twice as sticky.

"More," Draco commanded, but his hand had found Harry's knee, thumb rubbing in small circles.

"Yes, darling."

"The pickles, now. Together. The baby wants both."

"Yes, love."

They ate in silence, Harry feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream alternating with pickle slices, watching Draco's lashes flutter with each bizarre combination. When the bowl was empty, Draco let Harry arrange the new pillow behind him, then caught Harry's wrist before he could stand.

"Stay," Draco said, quieter now. "You've been fixing things all day. The cabinet, the garden, the nursery shelves. You haven't sat down since breakfast."

Harry smiled, easy and warm. "I'm fine, sweetheart. I like taking care of you."

"I know," Draco said, and his voice had lost its demanding edge, replaced by something tender and fierce. "Which is why I'm ordering you—" he tugged Harry down, "—to lie here. With me. Immediately."

Harry let himself be pulled, let Draco arrange them on their sides facing each other, Draco's belly pressed between them. Draco's fingers found the tension at Harry's neck and shoulders, kneading with surprising skill, and Harry melted into the mattress with a groan he hadn't meant to let out.

"Better?" Draco asked, his thumb tracing Harry's jaw.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, opening his eyes to find Draco watching him with that look, the one that said I love you.

"Good," Draco whispered, and leaned in, closing the distance. His lips were cold from the ice cream, sweet with lavender, and Harry kissed him breathless.

When they pulled apart, Draco's hand rested on Harry's chest, over his heart, “Harry.”

"Yes, love?" Harry asked, smiling.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Harry kissed him again, soft and sure, and whispered against his mouth: "Anything for you, my love, my darling, my sweetheart."

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

New Fic: In Sickness And In Health

Chapter 1/4 is posted now on AO3! Click Here to check it out!

Summary: When Auror James Potter finds himself hunting a killer targeting werewolves, his orderly life turns into beautiful and terrifying chaos.

COMPLETE: New chapters every day until complete!

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

New Fic: Wings of A Different Kind

This is a sequel to All Through The Night.

Summary: James and Remus have built a life for themselves and their family in the Sanctuary, but when a close friend becomes ill and leaves the care of her son in their hands, their family experiences growing pains as they learn to adjust to a new normal.

Now on AO3! Click Here to check it out!

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Fic Complete: Even If The Skies Get Rough

Chapter 4/4 now on AO3! Click Here to check it out!

Summary: Harry Potter, Head Auror in training, gets the worst assignment of his career: Draco Malfoy, freshly returned from France, as his new partner. They're supposed to solve a case involving cursed artifacts and ritual murders. They're not supposed to fall in love.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Hide and Seek

The nursery was dark, save for the wedge of light from the hallway, and Harry Potter was having opinions about bedtime.

"Come on, little man," James whispered, swaying on his feet, his glasses askew. "Mummy's been up with you three times already. Give your old man a break, yeah?"

Harry gurgled, then screamed, tiny fists clenched in fury.

James tried singing. He tried the mobile. He tried a warming charm on the milk Lily had left in the fridge. Finally, mercifully, Harry's eyes drifted shut, his breathing settling into the rhythm of deep sleep.

"Thank Merlin," James breathed. He reached for the blanket usually draped over the cot but his fingers found only empty air. He patted around in the darkness, exhausted, until his hand closed on something soft and draped over the back of the chair.

"That'll do," he muttered, shaking it out and draping it over the baby in the cot. It settled strangely, seeming to vanish into the shadows, but James was already stumbling toward his own bed, collapsing beside Lily with a groan.

~~~~~*~~~~

"Lily, love, calm down."

"Calm down? James, he's gone!" Lily was tearing through the nursery, blankets flying, her face pale as death. "The cot's empty! The window's open—"

"It's not open, it's just unlocked."

"Harry!" Lily shrieked, dropping to her knees to check under the cot. "Harry, Mummy's here!"

From somewhere near the center of the room, a muffled, indignant wail rose up, seemingly from nowhere.

James and Lily froze.

The wail came again, accompanied by a rustling sound, and James, slower than usual due to sleep deprivation, finally spotted the shimmering distortion in the air, the way the light bent oddly around the shape of their son.

"Oh," he said weakly.

Lily reached out and yanked. The Invisibility Cloak came away in her hand, revealing Harry, red-faced and furious, waving his fists from where he'd been perfectly concealed in the middle of the cot.

"You," Lily said, turning slowly to her husband, her voice dangerously soft. "Threw. The Cloak. Over our baby."

James held up his hands, backing toward the door. "In my defense, I was very tired!"

"You thought a blanket made of nothing was an appropriate substitute—"

"He was warm! Technically! Cloaks are warm, that's their whole—"

"James Potter, you absolute—"

"I'm sorry!" He scooped Harry up, who immediately grabbed his glasses. "But look at it this way…he's already brilliant at hide and seek. Natural talent. Must get it from his dad."

Lily stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then, despite everything, she laughed, a relieved sound, and collapsed against his shoulder, Harry squished between them.

"Never again," she mumbled into his neck.

"Never," James agreed, kissing her hair.

From beneath the cot, the Invisibility Cloak shimmered innocently, already waiting for its next adventure.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Personal Update

My mom passed away two nights ago, and the grief is heavier than I ever could have imagined. It's this constant, crushing weight that makes breathing feel like a chore some days, and I’m really sick of crying. I'm trying to navigate this new reality without her, but honestly, I'm feeling pretty lost. If you've been through this or just have a kind word to spare, I could really use some support right now. Sending love to anyone else who's walking this painful path.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Spoiled

"Draco, he does not need a miniature broomstick. He is four months old."

Draco held up the tiny Nimbus, which was admittedly adorable. "It's for developing motor skills."

"He can't even hold his own head up."

In Draco's arms, Teddy had already shifted—platinum hair, grey eyes, pointy little chin. He looked like a Malfoy heir who was judging Harry's financial decisions.

"He's supporting his head beautifully," Draco lied, adjusting the baby's leather-studded booties. "And he loves his broom."

Teddy turned his hair green.

"He's mocking you," Harry said.

"He's supporting me."

A week later, Harry found an expensive tiny tuxedo in Teddy’s wardrobe.

"For formal occasions," Draco said defensively.

"He's a baby."

"He's my son and he deserves the best."

When Draco showed Harry the crystal mobile he had gotten Teddy, Harry put his foot down. Absolutely not. No more spoiling. They were raising a well-adjusted, non-materialistic child.

Three days later, Harry came home with a huge stuffed Hippogriff that cost more than their sofa.

"He smiled at it," Harry told Draco, who looked deeply smug. "With his actual face. My face. He looked like me and he smiled."

Teddy—currently black haired and green eyed in Harry's arms—reached for the toy and cooed. Draco scooped up the baby, who immediately shifted to match Draco. "Of course he did," Draco said, kissing the baby's pointy nose. "He's brilliant."

"Give him back."

"Get your own."

They stood in the nursery, passing Teddy back and forth, watching him flicker between  looking like each of them, until Harry finally just wrapped his arms around both of them and decided that spoiled wasn't the worst thing a child could be.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Earning "Yes"

The Great Hall ceiling had barely finished displaying "LILY EVANS: DATE ME OR THE BADGER GETS IT" (James had stolen a Hufflepuff mascot and was holding it hostage with a water pistol) when Lily marched over and slapped him across the face.

"That badger is a first-year in a costume, you absolute menace!" she hissed. "No!"

The week had been a catastrophe of James Potter's own making.

On Monday, he'd released two hundred doves in the library and asked Lily out. They'd pooped on Madam Pince. Lily had said no.

On Tuesday, he'd paid two seventh years to sky-write "LILY + JAMES = TRUE LOVE" over the Quidditch pitch during a match. He'd nearly been decapitated by a Bludger looking for her response. She'd said no.

On Wednesday, he'd serenaded her outside the potions classroom with a mandolin he couldn't play. Snape had given him detention for "crimes against music." Lily had said no.

On Thursday, he'd attempted to Transfigure chocolate frogs into hearts. He'd turned them into heart shaped bugs instead. Lily had been disgusted, then said no.

And now it was Friday, and James Potter was sitting alone by the Black Lake, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"Potter?"

He startled, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve, but Lily had already seen the tears. She sat down beside him on the grass, her expression suspicious but concerned.

"Are you—are you crying?"

"Allergies," James said quickly, his voice thick. "Pollen. It's... it's ragweed season."

"It's October."

"Dirt, then. I'm allergic to... dirt."

Lily reached out and pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, his glasses smudged, his cheeks wet.

"James," she said, softer than he'd ever heard her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. I'm brilliant." He tried to laugh. It came out broken. "Just... just realized I'll never be good enough, is all. For anyone. Keep trying to be... to be impressive, or funny, or... and I'm just..." He wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'm just embarrassing."

Lily was quiet for a long moment. The lake lapped against the shore.

"James," she said finally. "Do you know why I keep saying no?"

"Because I'm a prat?"

"Because you're acting like one." She turned to face him, her green eyes serious. "All these stunts—the doves, the sky-writing, the hostage badger—you're not being you. You're being... a performance. A fool. And I don't want to date a fool, James. I want to date someone who is honest. You just need to be yourself."

James stared at her. "You... you think me as myself would be worth saying yes to?"

"I think," Lily said, standing and brushing off her skirt, "that the boy who stood up to Snape in fifth year when he called me a Mudblood—that boy, the real one, not the one with the chocolate bugs—that boy might be worth saying yes to. If he ever bothered to show up."

She walked away, leaving James blinking at the lake, the words settling into his chest like something warm.

It was three days later when Lily found a single white rose on her Charms textbook. No doves. No fireworks. No singing. Just James Potter, standing beside her desk, looking nervous and sincere and heartbreakingly himself.

"Evans," he said, his voice steady. "I really like you. Not because you're pretty or clever or because my mum would approve—though you are, and she would—but because you're kind when no one's watching, and you bite your lip when you're concentrating, and you stood up to Slughorn about house-elf rights last term even though it cost you an internship." He picked up the rose and held it out. "Would you please go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Lily looked at the rose. Then at James—really looked at him, at the hope and the fear and the sincerity in his eyes.

"About time, Potter," she said, taking the flower. "Yes."

James's face transformed, bright and blinding and real. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Lily smiled, small and secret. "But if you ever kidnap a badger again, I'm feeding you to the giant squid."

"Deal," James breathed, grinning so wide it hurt.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Your Face is Mine

They were practicing advanced transfiguration charms in Harry's dorm. The eighth year homework was theoretically simple and safe, until Draco and Harry’s spells collided mid-air and suddenly Draco was staring at his own body from across the room.

"Potter," Draco said carefully, looking down at Harry's scarred hands, "if you don't fix this in the next ten seconds, I will end you."

Harry, now inhabiting Draco's tall, pale form, had immediately spotted the small mirror on his nightstand. He was currently using it to make Draco's face scrunch up like a confused pug, then stretch into a wide grin, then puff out Draco's cheeks like a chipmunk.

"Merlin, your eyebrows are expressive," Harry said, waggling them at his reflection. "I can do this thing where they go up separately. Look."

"Stop making my face do that!" Draco shrieked, Harry's voice cracking in a way that would've been mortifying if he had any dignity left to lose. "I have a reputation!"

Harry turned from the mirror, still holding it, and made Draco's face do sad puppy eyes. "But I'm so good at it."

"You're defiling my aesthetic!"

"Your hair is so soft." Harry ran his fingers through it, watching Draco’s reflection in the mirror. "Is this why you take forty minutes in the bathroom? Just to stare at yourself?"

"I do not—fix this now!"

"I don't know how."

"What do you mean you don't know how?"

"It was an accident,” He glowered in the mirror, “You're pretty even when you're angry." Harry made Draco's face do a duck lip pout at his reflection. "Please don't be mad, Draco.”

"Stop! That's my face! You can't use my face to manipulate me!"

"Is it working?"

Draco marched over, snatched the mirror out of Harry's hands, and threw it on the bed. Then he grabbed his own face with Harry's calloused hands and kissed him hard. When they pulled apart, they were both back in their own bodies, breathless and disheveled.

"How did that—?"

"Emotional anchor," Draco said, smoothing his robes with shaking hands. "Swaps require a strong emotional connection to reverse."

Harry blinked. "So you...?"

"Shut up, Potter." Draco's ears were pink. "And stop smiling like that. I said shut up, not keep grinning like a lovesick fool."

"Make me."

Draco kissed him again. Purely for silencing purposes. Obviously.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

Disaster Date

The wine was already spilled before the appetizers arrived. Harry had knocked over his water glass trying to gesture at something, he couldn't even remember what now, and somehow managed to tear his napkin in half while attempting to fold it. Draco sat across from him in a tailored navy suit that probably cost more than Harry's flat, sipping champagne with the effortless grace of someone who had been born knowing which fork to use.

"Fascinating," Draco observed, watching Harry chase a runaway roll across the tablecloth. "I didn't know it was possible to injure oneself with bread."

"It's warm," Harry mumbled, cradling his thumb. "The crust was... sharp."

"Of course it was."

When the waiter arrived with their meals, Harry knocked over the pepper mill trying to hand it to Draco. It shattered. Pepper exploded everywhere. Draco didn't even flinch, just raised one perfect eyebrow while Harry turned the color of the wine he didn't drink.

"I should go," Harry said suddenly, standing so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. Several tables turned to stare. "I'm sorry. This is—I'm a disaster. You're perfect and I'm a mess and I ruined everything, so—"

"Sit down, Potter."

Harry sat. Mostly because his knees gave out.

Draco leaned forward, elbows on the table, all that poise finally cracking to show something softer underneath. "Do you think I agreed to this date because I expected you to be graceful? You're terrible at this. It's excruciating to watch." He paused. "It's also the first time I've seen you be genuinely nervous. You're just... Harry. Clumsy, hopeless, terrible-at-dinner-conversation Harry."

"That's... reassuring?" Harry squeaked.

Draco smiled. It wasn't his smirk. It was real, and it made Harry's stomach flip. "I like you anyway, you idiot. Now close your eyes."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm going to kiss you, and if you knock my teeth out with your forehead, I'll never forgive you."

Harry closed his eyes. Draco's mouth was soft and sure and tasted like champagne, and when they pulled apart, Harry's elbow slipped off the table and knocked over the dessert menu.

Draco didn't even comment. He just kissed him again.

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

New Fic: Midnight Confessions

Click Here to check it out now on AO3!

This is a short one-shot. It's a little sad and a little deep. Harry has some feelings and Draco is there to support him.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts

[beautifullybrokenpeople]

New Chapter: Even If The Skies Get Rough

Chapter 2/4 out now on AO3! Click Here to check it out!